Bian Yiqiu, a grown man in his thirties, was so startled by the innocent words of the two children that his heart nearly skipped a beat, and he quickly fled in a panic. With a loud bang, he slammed the car door shut, cutting off all the sounds from outside, and only then did his heart return to normal. After a moment of calm, he realized he shouldn’t have left like that. He should’ve grabbed that smug little brat who had said, “Because you like me,” and given him a good lesson, remind him not to act so arrogantly or take things for granted in the future.

Because you like someone, they should obey you? There was nothing more pitiful than that.

On the 28th of the twelfth lunar month, Madam Mei sent a large batch of New Year’s gifts to the Yuelu Mountain Manor, along with a message asking Bian Yiqiu to come home early for the New Year’s Eve dinner. She also insisted that he bring Uncle Shi along, claiming it would make the gathering livelier.

Since leaving Xuyuan, Uncle Shi had never returned there. Bian Yiqiu sensed that he wasn’t eager to go back, and just as he was about to politely decline, Uncle Shi agreed first. His attitude was respectful, his tone gentle, showing no signs of emotional fluctuations. On New Year’s Eve, he even dressed in a newly tailored suit, adopting a somewhat English butler-like demeanor, looking radiant and rejuvenated, as if he had regained several years of youth, with his posture significantly straighter.

The New Year’s gifts for Madam Mei had already been sent to Xuyuan the day before, along with the skilled Aunt Qin, who had been temporarily borrowed. Madam Mei called to praise Xiao Qiu’s thoughtfulness and maturity. She mentioned that the osmanthus sticky rice lotus root dish Aunt Qin had made was something she had been craving for half a year, and no matter how skilled the best chefs at hotels were, they could never recreate that particular taste.

In a good mood, Madam Mei even increased the size of the red envelopes for the servants, and the one she had prepared for Bian Yiqiu was especially generous.

The New Year’s Eve dinner consisted of ten dishes, symbolizing peace, joy, and perfection. Bian Yiqiu tried a bit of each dish and even drank a few cups of wine with Madam Mei.

Madam Mei was the epitome of a Southern beauty, graceful and delicate in her youth, and now in her forties, she maintained an air of serene elegance, carrying the peacefulness of someone in their prime.

After the meal, the customary New Year’s Eve vigil began. They couldn’t escape the tradition of watching the Spring Festival Gala on television. The older servants joined Madam Mei at the card table, while Zuo Cheng and several children played with fireworks and firecrackers in the yard, making a lot of noise and creating a lively atmosphere.

Uncle Shi disappeared after dinner, and strangely, Madam Mei didn’t ask about his whereabouts, as if he didn’t exist at all.

Bian Yiqiu, feeling stuffed from the meal, didn’t want to play cards. He lazily slouched on the sofa and said to Madam Mei, “If I win, it’s yours; if I lose, it’s mine.”

While speaking, he mischievously unwrapped a red envelope candy and popped it into his mouth. It was so sweet it made his throat ache, but he forced himself to swallow after chewing it roughly with some water.

Madam Mei, swiftly organizing her cards, turned to him with a smile. “You’re over thirty, yet you act like a child. Red envelope candy is just for show, no one actually eats it.”

Bian Yiqiu just smiled without replying. Even he couldn’t explain why he had a sweet tooth. Perhaps it was because of the hardships he endured as a child, making him yearn for and obsess over the taste of sweetness.

As the Spring Festival Gala played halfway, he received a WeChat message from Lu Xiao, simple and to the point: “Qiu ge, Happy New Year.”

Bian Yiqiu thought to himself, “Happy my ass, so boring,” but he still replied with a message: “Happy New Year, bro. What are you up to?”

Lu Xiao quickly replied: “Setting off fireworks at the art academy with Chu Yi.”

Bian Yiqiu instantly regretted asking that question. He felt like he was just looking for trouble. He wanted to reply with, “Show off your love and you’ll die young,” but he realized that if Chu Yi heard it, he’d definitely make him out to be a rival.

Not knowing what else to say, he decided to send a red envelope. However, since he thought 200 yuan wasn’t enough to match his “rich guy” persona, he switched to a bank transfer, with an amount that was very lucky—9999.

It took two minutes for Lu Xiao to receive the transfer, then he sent three words: “So much?”

Bian Yiqiu replied, “If you don’t want my heart, then I can only give you money.”

Lu Xiao: “Is your heart still with me?”

Bian Yiqiu: “Of course, I can’t take it back even if I want to.”

Lu Xiao: “Screenshot taken.”

Bian Yiqiu: “???”

Lu Xiao: “Forwarded.”

Bian Yiqiu: “???”

Lu Xiao: “Sent it to Ke Mingxuan.”

Bian Yiqiu immediately jumped up from the sofa. Before he could respond, Lu Xiao sent another message: “Bian Yiqiu, watch out for your legs.”

“Dammit!” If this person was Lu Xiao, something was definitely off. “Chu Yi, are you out of your mind?!”

Holding Lu Xiao’s phone, President Chu laughed proudly: “Yeah, only Lu Xiao can cure my illness. Try thinking about him again.”

Just after sending the message, Lu Xiao ran out of the bathroom: “It’s freezing! Let’s go back. Why are you laughing?”

Chu Yi turned off the phone screen, no longer paying attention to the frantic Bian Yiqiu on the other end. He wrapped his arm around Lu Xiao, planted a kiss on his forehead, and said, “I’m happy when you’re by my side.”

Lu Xiao chuckled foolishly, walking with him towards the door.

“Bian Yiqiu replied to me?”

“No.”

Poor Bian Yiqiu had sent several messages, but they all sank into the abyss without a single reply. What he didn’t know was that Lu Xiao never even got the chance to glance at those messages, as they were deleted by the scheming Chu Yi.

While they were taking a break from the card game, Madam Mei glanced at Bian Yiqiu, who seemed a bit unsettled, and asked what was wrong. Bian Yiqiu said it was nothing.

“If you have something to do, you can leave first. You don’t have to stay and keep us company for the New Year’s Eve.”

“I’m really fine.”

In fact, he didn’t even know what he was so restless about. Not to mention whether Chu Yi really sent such a trivial message to Ke Mingxuan, even if he did, what difference would it make? He and Ke Mingxuan weren’t even friends with benefits anymore. Who he had feelings for and where his heart was had nothing to do with him. It was ridiculous.

Although that’s what he thought, Bian Yiqiu still instinctively touched his leg. Only then did he belatedly begin to worry that one day, while walking on the street, he might get hit in the back of the head again. After all, Young Master Ke was quite experienced in doing such things, and he was more skilled at pulling dirty tricks behind the scenes than even someone like him, who was in the underworld.

Around twelve o’clock, Zuo Cheng called out to him from outside, “Boss, come out for the first firecracker of the New Year.”

Bian Yiqiu staggered over to the garden, and the few people at the card table, having finished the last round, followed him outside.

The lanterns hung high in the courtyard, the red plums standing proudly against the snow, their cold fragrance mingling with the faint scent of gunpowder in the air.

The heavy wall clock in the living room chimed with a long, echoing “dong—”, followed closely by a series of crackling firecrackers that exploded in a burst, their deafening sound echoing through the sky. Both adults and children covered their ears, faces beaming with joy, while at the same time, they shouted New Year’s greetings, exchanging words of good fortune. It was all the usual wishes—peace, prosperity, good luck, and smooth sailing. No one had to think hard about what to say, and those listening took it all to heart, simply hoping for happiness, harmony, and joy.

Bian Yiqiu was quite surprised. He had thought that after offending Ruan Chengjie, those second-generation officials had probably blacklisted him, but to his surprise, someone still remembered him at this time.

He clicked on Liang Ziyue’s message, which contained no words, just a video. In it, a small, fair-skinned girl dressed in a festive red cotton jacket and wearing a fluffy lamb hat was facing the camera. She cheerfully said, “Uncle Qiu, Happy New Year, wishing you prosperity, muah~~”

The chubby little hand blew him a kiss towards the camera, so cute that Bian Yiqiu felt his heart melt. He immediately sent a large red envelope, what else could he use to express his excitement? He was just that kind of ordinary person.

Liang Ziyue quickly replied: “Does this count as using my daughter to collect money and accept bribes?”

Bian Yiqiu thought of Liang Ziyue’s official position and couldn’t help but laugh: “Don’t ask for trouble. This is just giving the child New Year’s money.”

“Alright, I’ll save it for her as a dowry in the future.”

“…If I had such a daughter, I’d never want her to get married.”

“If she really can’t get married, then you’d be anxious.”

So, the two men in their thirties, having a deep discussion for over twenty minutes about the issue of their precious daughters getting married. Even though Bian Yiqiu might never have a daughter in his lifetime, he fully used his imagination. He felt that if the little princess he had carefully raised, who he held in the palm of his hand, were to fall in love with another man one day, he just couldn’t accept it. In the end, feeling helpless, he could only say to Liang Ziyue, “If it’s possible, I’d still prefer to have a son. At least they can bring a daughter-in-law home.”

Liang Ziyue deeply agreed, looking at his daughter with a somewhat melancholic expression. Then Bian Yiqiu said, “She’s only two years old. Are we worrying too early?”

“Seems like it…”

“Let’s just go to sleep.”

The two old men finally realized how boring they were, and decisively ended this heavy conversation.

Since they had to visit Baoding Mountain the next day to pay respects to Old Master Jiu, Bian Yiqiu and the others stayed at Xuyuan. It was still the same room as before, and Madam Mei had arranged everything neatly and properly well in advance.

For some reason, before going to bed, Bian Yiqiu picked up his phone and went through that pile of messy messages again, as if he was confirming whether he had missed any names. In the end, he probably realized that he might have been tricked by Chu Yi and angrily muttered a few curses. He tossed his phone to the bedside and fell asleep.

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, outside the Baoding Mountain Cemetery, nearly twenty black sedans stopped at the same time. The people who got out of the cars were all dressed in formal attire, their expressions solemn, causing passersby to glance back repeatedly, wondering which important figure they were coming to pay respects to.

Bian Yiqiu and Madam Mei walked at the front, followed closely by Shi Shu and Zuo Cheng, with several older uncles behind them. Ye Zhen, He Xu, Lao Meng, and others were further back. The group marched toward the resting place of Old Master Jiu in a grand procession.

Old Master Jiu was never a person who sought attention or lived extravagantly in life, but Bian Yiqiu felt that the layout of this cemetery was simply too cramped. When the burial site was chosen, he bought several adjacent plots all at once, effectively transforming a small snail-shaped tomb into a large mansion, claiming it was to allow Old Master Jiu to live more spaciously and comfortably.

As his son and the current head of Jiu’an, Bian Yiqiu, according to tradition, was the first to pay his respects.

He respectfully knelt on both knees, carefully and solemnly kowtowing three times. It wasn’t a formal gesture; his forehead directly hit the ground with each knock—bang, bang, bang. Each one was solid and genuine, without the slightest pretense. The others stood in two rows behind him, facing the tombstone, bowing at a ninety-degree angle in unison. Their movements were synchronized, creating a spectacular and awe-inspiring scene.

After the ceremony, the subordinates gradually left. Bian Yiqiu instructed He Xue to take Madam Mei back to Xuyuan and Old Meng to escort Uncle Shi back to Yuelu Mountain Villa. Once only Zuo Cheng remained by his side, Bian Yiqiu said, “Wait for me in the car.”

Zuo Cheng nodded but didn’t walk far, his gaze still following him.

Bian Yiqiu bid farewell to Old Master Jiu and turned toward another area, following the number he remembered.

Area E, Number 19. The owner of the tombstone was named Bian Ying.

How long had it been since he last came here? He had spent four years in prison, and after Old Master Jiu passed away, he was busy clearing out the family business around the New Year, trying to stabilize his position, taking over Jiu’an, and dealing with a group of old-timers in a battle of wits. He hadn’t had the time to visit her, and on normal days, he hardly remembered. As for the anniversary of her death, sorry, it had been so long that he had forgotten the exact day.

What he remembered was that winter, the cold was especially harsh. Snowflakes as big as goose feathers filled the sky, blocking the sun and sweeping through with fury. The bitter north wind howled through the cracks in the dilapidated door, like the wails of ghosts and wolves. Inside the dark, cold room, it was like an ice cellar. He only wore a tattered cotton jacket and a pair of cotton shoes with his toes exposed, sitting quietly, waiting for the woman named Bian Ying to get up and make him a meal.

He didn’t know how long it had passed—two days? Or three? His next-door neighbor finally pushed open the door, cracked and worn with age, and carried him out, freezing and starving, nearly frozen to death. The neighbor fed him a bowl of hot soup and then told him, “Your mother is dead.”

At four or five years old, the child didn’t understand what death meant. He only vaguely realized that he would never see the woman named Bian Ying again. Although she wasn’t often in a normal state and hadn’t been particularly kind to him, on the rare occasions when she was mentally clear, she would occasionally smile at him and gently say, “Xiao Qiu, Mommy will cook for you.”

In his memory, Bian Ying’s appearance was always blurry. He couldn’t remember whether she was beautiful or ugly, tall or short. He only vaguely remembered that she liked to wear off-white dresses, and how alcohol and drugs had ravaged her body, leaving her frail and skeletal. The dress always looked too large, swaying with every movement, like a kite on the verge of falling apart.

Finally, one day, the kite’s string snapped. She staggered and flew away, never to return.

“Hey, Bian Ying.” Bian Yiqiu crouched before the tombstone, reaching out to gently brush away a fallen leaf from the stone, greeting her with a smile.

The past was like the wind. Even the most painful memories had scabbed over, and thinking about them didn’t hurt as much as he expected