But it doesn’t matter anymore, as death is like a snuffed-out lamp; her controversies and disputes have vanished like smoke and clouds.
I was a child born late in life, my mother adored , and she would obtain anything I desired, this indulgence of maternal love... To be honest, if I weren’t so sure I ca from her womb, I’d suspect she was spoiling to death. Such principle-less doting from a mother would surely turn any man into a spoiled and reckless scion, a sure cause of trouble for the nation and the people when grown up.
To tell the truth, I only learned that my mother was from the Yang Family and the daughter of Yang Lan when I t my uncle. I’ve t Yang Lan twice, once at my parents’ funeral and once at Grandpa’s funeral, and I’ve heard he’s a very formidable military man. My mother was also much doted upon in the Yang Family; I heard that Yang Lan treasured her like the apple of his eye because she greatly resembled my grandmother. Even after she married, no one could shake my mother’s position in the hearts of my grandparents.
I don’t like going to the Yang Family’s house because I don’t like seeing Yang Lan. My body has long since decomposed to dust, yet they are all still living well. The Yang Family and the Ye Family didn’t suffer much trouble back in the day, but I still have to be grateful for their favor. My son’s current achievents owe much to the support and efforts of him and Ye Junying.
But Yang Lan liked seeing very much. Every ti he said I looked remarkably like my past self, and my silly son nad ’Ji Feng’, which shows how much he admired .
My son is very fertile; I have three older brothers and one older sister. They’ve made significant contributions to spreading our family branches. In this regard, I’m not as good as him. For three generations before , the family line was single-threaded, and by my generation, it was dangerously close to dying out.
I have no aspirations. I know everything I should, and I know things even my son doesn’t. My mother has always indulged . As long as I’m happy, I think even if I were to beco a beggar, she would still raise her hand in agreent. Of my three brothers, two are in the military, and one is in business. My sister is involved in so form of art, traveling to all corners far and wide. I spent my days idly, soon growing bored, and began seeking thrills.
Following the example of those frivolous young masters, I frequented bars and womanized, lavishly spending fortunes in one night for a woman. Tired of my profligate ways, I would drive alone by mountain roads in the middle of the night, seeking the thrill of high speeds.
As they say, if you travel night roads often, you are bound to encounter ghosts. On one twisting mountain path, I took a drift too sharply and broke through the guardrail, tumbling down from the mountain peak. It was a cliff below the guardrail, hundreds of ters high. A fall ant sure death without leaving even a trace, yet I didn’t feel afraid as I fell; instead, I felt an adrenaline rush. When I awoke, I found myself not dead, my legs trapped beneath the car, with my upper body thrown outside onto the grass, which was my saving grace. However, my head was throbbing, likely suffering from a concussion.
Not dead, but not far from it either, this place was desolate, and no one would know of the accident. My phone was lost, and I had no way to call for help. I could only wait for death, feeling only regret for my mother.
Just as I was about to give up, I saw a fairy—a real fairy—in ancient dress, floating down from the sky. As she approached , for a mont I feared she’d be frightened by my disheveled appearance. I told her, "Don’t co over, it will scare you."
The fairy in white looked at for a while, but still walked over. She placed a hand on the car door, and with a gentle lift, the vehicle flew out. I thought to myself, worthy indeed of the woman I took a fancy to, truly out of the ordinary. She gave dicine, and then she left. My heart went with her, and since then it’s felt empty.
I thought I would never see her again, but two years later, I saw her injured, lying alone in an alley in Beijing, her frail appearance piercing my heart. I took her back to my apartnt, taking great care of her.
The fairy was very guarded, hard to get close to at first. My friends suggested a strategy: that a relentless suitor can overco a resistant lady. I spent years persistently pursuing her, and eventually, I opened her heart. Gradually, she began to share things with and introduced to her world—a magical world.
The fairy’s na is Lan Tian, and I gave her a nickna, Xiao Lan. I asked her if I could call her that, and Lan Tian said that a na is just a label, and if it made happy, it was fine. From then on, I called her Xiao Lan, to show the closeness of our relationship.
We wandered hand in hand, visiting all the famous scenic spots and great mountains of Dragon Country. After exploring Dragon Country, we traveled the world, and later Xiao Lan even took to her Secret Garden, a place as beautiful as the Immortal Realm.
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