[The previous Chapter and so sections were censored, apologies for not editing them further.]
One day, Tian Sangsang was summoned to answer a phone call. It was from Beijing, soone trying to reach Jiang Jinghuai.
Tian Sangsang had no choice but to take the call, feeling as though she were picking up a ticking ti bomb. She tried to keep her voice steady and said, "Hello."
Just as she spoke, the voice on the other end spoke too—a soft yet sowhat lancholic female voice: "Jinghuai."
As the words fell, both parties froze, a brief silence hanging between them.
Tian Sangsang held her breath. The caller didn’t seem surprised and spoke with a heavy tone, saying, "I don’t care who you are. If you know Jinghuai, please let him know that his grandfather has passed away. We’ve already handled the funeral arrangents. It’s too far here, tell him not to co back. In so ti, we’ll make arrangents to transfer him back to Beijing."
Before Tian Sangsang could reply, the caller hung up abruptly.
Tian Sangsang was stunned and hung up as well. She tried to identify the voice; it sounded like Jiang Jinghuai’s mother?
She wondered if she had handled the call appropriately. Had she been careless in her speech? Would she give his mother a bad impression? The caller seed a bit upset—was it anger? Perhaps emotions were inevitable when a family mber passes away. Surely it wasn’t because of her; after all, she had only said one word, "Hello," which didn’t warrant any criticism. Besides, his mother probably didn’t know she existed. But wait—was that truly his mother?
Now wasn’t the ti to dwell on this—it was... Jiang Jinghuai’s grandfather had passed away.
His grandfather had passed away.
Tian Sangsang didn’t feel deeply saddened, as she had never t his grandfather. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel so lancholy. Death in this world always evokes sorrow, and he was, technically, her grandfather too.
It was unfortunate that neither she nor her son had ever t the old man.
As she walked and pondered, a sudden thought struck her. The plot had already deviated from the original trajectory, yet she couldn’t afford to let her guard down. In the original storyline, Jiang Jinghuai’s mother had passed away, leading to his descent into darkness. This wasn’t a literal blackening, but a transformation of his inner world into sothing harsh and shadowed. Now that his grandfather had passed away, would he also...?
This was a terrifying foresight.
Tian Sangsang’s thoughts beca scattered. Privately, she didn’t want to share this news with Jiang Jinghuai; she worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle the blow. But secrets can’t be kept forever—the truth would inevitably co to light.
Recently, there had been plenty of wild ga caught in the mountains nearby. Every day, Tian Sangsang made millet porridge with shredded wild chicken at. The aroma was fresh and enticing, and the dish turned out delicious.
After finishing lunch preparations, she set everything on the table. Calling ng Shuyan inside, she crouched down and whispered, "Yanyan, your father’s grandfather has passed away."
ng Shuyan tilted his head thoughtfully and blinked solemnly: "Is that my great-grandfather?"
"Yes." Tian Sangsang instructed, "Your father is going to be very sad. So later, while eating, don’t say too much. After the al, go play on your own. Try not to disturb him—we need to give him a quiet environnt to process his grief. Rember, act natural, not too deliberate. Otherwise, he’ll notice."
"Okay." ng Shuyan nodded, then scratched his head in confusion. "But shouldn’t we comfort Dad?"
Tian Sangsang gently held his small shoulders. "No, we can’t do that. So people, when you comfort them, it feels like pity to them. The best way is to act as if nothing has happened."
Not long after, Jiang Jinghuai returned ho. He couldn’t help but feel that the atmosphere was slightly different today. His wife and son were sitting quietly, waiting for him to sit down for the al. Although they always did so, today...
"You’re back." Tian Sangsang greeted him with a soft smile and served him a bowl of millet porridge. "Let’s eat."
Quietly eating his food, he noticed his wife sneaking occasional glances at him. Raising his gaze in concern, he asked in a low voice, "Sangsang, is there sothing you need to tell ?"
Tian Sangsang had been rehearsing what to say but was caught off guard. Under his intense gaze, she had to muster courage. After so hesitation, she softly said, "I just received a phone call from your family."
She kept an eye on him as she spoke, and he gripped his chopsticks so tightly his veins nearly popped.
The blackening process was indeed unfolding.
"It was a woman; she’s probably one of your relatives. She said that your grandfather had passed away." She pressed her lips together and asked, "Do you want to go back to see him?"
Jiang Jinghuai’s expression remained calm—so calm that it showed no traces of sadness.
After a long pause, he finally uttered, "I’ve been quite busy lately. Even if I took ti off, I wouldn’t make it in ti. Let’s pay our respects here instead."
By this, he implied he wouldn’t be going back. The mont the phone call arrived, his grandfather had already passed.
She murmured an "Oh," paused for a mont, and added, "Your family also ntioned that they’ll make arrangents to transfer you back to Beijing in a while."
Jiang Jinghuai fell silent. "Hmm."
Tian Sangsang quietly ate her al, unsure of what else to say.
"Sangsang," he suddenly called out to her, his voice low.
"Yes?" She looked up at him with wide eyes as if trying to read him.
"He was my grandfather. That makes him your grandfather too. My family is also your family. Watch your wording in the future."
"Alright." She nodded obediently.
During the al, Tian Sangsang kept observing Jiang Jinghuai; he seed very quiet. But she could sense his sadness. After sharing a bed for so long, she had grown attuned to his emotions.
Moreover, he only ate one small bowl of food today.
Afterwards, Tian Sangsang avoided initiating conversations with him. She simply watched him discreetly; whenever he seed to notice, he’d give her a knowing look, and she’d feign composure by averting her gaze.
She thought ti would heal his wounds and bring peace to his heart. But what she hadn’t expected was his gradual descent into deeper silence. Slowly, the way he looked at her beca increasingly somber and enigmatic.
If loneliness doesn’t lead to an outburst, it will consu you instead.
Sure enough, the silence was a facade—he finally erupted. That night, after their son had fallen asleep, he pulled her into the West Room. Without warning, the encounter turned fervent...
She was overwheld, rarely treated this way before. Her hands scratched red marks onto his back. Physically she felt drained, emotionally torn between heartache and frustration.
Sweat dripped from his forehead, his entire body drenched in anguish...
"Stop... please stop..." All she could do was plead pitifully. In the dark, she saw his glowing eyes, and sothing damp fell onto her shoulder—rolling, hot tears. She stopped resisting, rembering the grief he had been bottling up these days. Her heart softened.
Maybe... this was what he needed.
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