Wufu’s eyes widened in shock as she followed the direction of the girl’s finger. On an old desk, there was a spirit tablet with the inscription "The Seat of Mr. Shen’s Prosperous Descendants." In front of the tablet, an incense burner held a bunch of fresh incense, indicating that someone offered incense daily.
"This..." Wufu looked at the young maid.
Had she arrived too late? Had Old Man Shen died?
The young maid’s eyes were indifferent as she said, "Dead, he died last month!"
Wufu took a deep breath and asked, "How did this happen so suddenly, when was it?"
The maid glanced at her, then back at the spirit tablet, and emotionlessly replied, "He said he was going up the mountain before. Last month he came back, claiming he had finally found a good piece of jade. In front of my father’s tablet, he drank a whole bottle of strong liquor. The next day he fell ill, and within half a month, he was gone."
Wufu noticed another spirit tablet beside Old Man Shen’s, also bearing a man’s name. Was it this girl’s deceased father, the man who had fallen off the cliff?
"...Madmen, they’re all a bunch of madmen, old madman, young madman, all talking about restoring the family’s former glory. One after another, they went crazy running to the mountain. What was the result? They didn’t find the jade they desired and instead lost their lives for nothing. The young ones did it, and so did the old, ha."
Wufu looked over to see the young maid, a sarcastic smile on her lips as she stared at the spirit tablets, which made Wufu’s heart jump.
Such a young child, speaking of her father and her grandfather with the indifference of a stranger, devoid of the innocence children should possess.
Yet, looking at her, Wufu felt a piercing pain in her heart, and her brows furrowed deeply. She saw the clear brightness in the child’s eyes.
That’s right, all her closest kin had left her, one by one. How could it not hurt? She was just a child.
"You, don’t be sad, take care of yourself." Wufu put her hand on her shoulder, struggling to utter these words, but once spoken, she felt how pale and inadequate they were.
The maid wiped away her tears, looked back at Wufu with defiance, and said, "What do I have to be sad about? I’m used to it. I can live well on my own. It’s fine that they’re dead."
Wufu felt a twinge in her heart. Wasn’t this stubbornness a disguise for her own pain?
It made her think of herself in a previous life when at a young age she had been orphaned and had grown up through trials and hardships.
Wufu pulled her into an embrace: "Girl, if you want to cry, then cry!"
"I won’t cry. What’s there for me to cry about?" The girl struggled a few times, but she wasn’t as strong as Wufu and could not break free, so she gave up. She clutched the hem of Wufu’s clothing, yet tears continued to roll down unstoppable.
She was alone now. Her father was dead, her grandfather was dead. In the Shen Family, there was only herself left. She, Shen Hongyu, from this point on, could only rely on herself.
No matter how tough she acted, she couldn’t hide the fear and desolation in her heart, and the helplessness.
Wufu’s embrace made it impossible for Shen Hongyu to keep up her facade, her tears quietly falling, soon turning into loud sobs.
She was just a ten-year-old girl, after all. Her only relatives gone, she was scared too, but she dared not show it in front of others.
Hearing the child’s cries filled with frustration and panic, Wufu felt a sting in her eyes as she held the girl tightly, looking at the spirit tablets, she sighed. You’ve been searching all your life, you found what you sought, but how did you fail to hold on?
Was it because your wish was fulfilled, so your spirit dissipated, that you left without concern? But you forgot, there’s a pitiful young granddaughter here.
Innocent child, how could you bear to leave her behind!