pertwk Page 126
Page 126
The servants' eyes lit up, their faces full of surprise.
Mu Qinghan simply waved his hand dismissively, said nothing more, and walked along the stone path.
He paused as he passed the corridor outside the front hall.
In the past, at this time, Second Master would always move a rattan chair to sit under the eaves to bask in the sun, holding a small purple clay teapot in his hand, squinting his eyes and humming an old tune. When he saw him, he would wave and call out, "Qinghan, come here and chat with Second Master for a bit."
But now, only that rattan chair stands alone under the eaves.
The sunlight fell on the empty chair cushions, making the room seem somewhat desolate.
He remembered that after his second uncle passed away, some family members suggested putting the chairs away in the storeroom, saying that leaving them there was a nuisance.
Old Man Mu waved his hand, his voice hoarse.
"No, keep it."
"If his soul ever returns one day, and he sees this familiar chair, he will know that this is home, and he won't get lost and unable to find his way home."
Since then, the rattan chair has remained on the veranda.
Occasionally, children would run in, climb onto chairs, and swing their legs while playing. The maids tried to stop them, but Old Man Mu always managed to stop them.
"Let them play. He loved these little kids the most when he was alive. Seeing them having fun made him happy."
Mu Qinghan gazed at the rattan chair, his fingertips gently brushing the smooth wood grain on the armrest, as if he could still feel the warmth of the past.
The wind swept through the corridor, swirling up a few fallen leaves that landed on the chairs before swirling away.
He stood there for a moment, then sighed softly and turned to walk towards the master bedroom.
His parents are still waiting for him.
Before I even reached the master bedroom door, a slightly comical, playful sound drifted out through the crack in the door.
First came a deliberately high-pitched voice, tinged with a hint of lewd teasing.
"Hehehe, little lady, don't run away, let this old man take good care of you."
Mu Qinghan paused abruptly, her eyebrows twitching slightly, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes. She then slowed her pace, her fingertips gently touching the door panel, without immediately pushing it open.
The laughter from inside the door grew clearer, and another voice retorted with a smile.
"Hahaha, you're quite the actor when it comes to playing a fool."
"What idiot!"
His voice immediately rose, but due to a lack of confidence, it only added to his naivety. "I am the infamous flower thief in the martial arts world. Don't you know the rules?"
"Is there any womanizer as old as you? Your hair is almost all white."
His teasing voice was full of laughter.
The next second, the "flower thief's" voice suddenly softened, carrying a hint of grievance.
"Waaaaah, my wife, you think I'm too old..."
"Okay, okay," the woman's voice immediately softened, with a coaxing tone, "You are my hero, you are not old at all, you are even more energetic than when you were young."
"Hehehe, my wife is still the best."
Hearing this, Mu Qinghan gently pushed open the door a crack.
His gaze fell into the room, and his fingertips suddenly trembled slightly.
I saw my mother sitting on the edge of the bed, holding my father in her arms, gently stroking the white hair at his temples with one hand, her eyes full of tenderness.
The father, who usually stood tall and straight, was now leaning on the mother's shoulder like a child, with a smug smile on his lips.
The father sacrificed a great deal of his lifespan to protect his family.
Every time the mother saw the father's white hair, she couldn't help but shed tears.
So her father always tried to make her happy. In his eyes, he didn't care about himself, but he absolutely could not let his family be sad or upset.
My father's once jet-black hair has turned mostly white, and the wrinkles around his eyes have deepened, making him look like an old man in his fifties or sixties, no longer possessing his former vigor.
At this moment, his father's white hair was particularly conspicuous in the candlelight. Mu Qinghan felt as if his heart was being gripped by an invisible hand, and a fine, dense pain spread through him.
Perhaps hearing the door open, the father suddenly sat up from the mother's arms, hastily straightened his clothes, and even cleared his throat.
"Ahem, Qinghan's back? Why didn't you tell me beforehand? Just now... just now your mother insisted on having a hug, and your father had no choice."
His mother couldn't help but glare at him, scolding, "Get lost! You're the one who refused to get up from my arms, and now you're blaming me!"
"Ha ha ha ha--"
When his father was exposed, he wasn't angry. Instead, he laughed heartily, his wrinkles around his eyes crinkling together, but full of warmth.
Mu Qinghan stood at the door, watching the two laughing in front of her. The bitterness in her heart gradually dissipated, and a gentle smile appeared on her lips.
He gently closed the door, shutting out the chill of the courtyard, and slowly walked towards the warm candlelight.
The warmth of home is never sustained by anyone's high spirits.
Rather, it is this unwavering companionship and warmth that has remained unchanged no matter how many trials and tribulations we have endured.
As soon as he sat down at the table, his mother came over with a bowl of warm tea and handed it to him.
"Qinghan, Ya Ya is here. Did you see her?"
Mu Qinghan paused, her fingers holding the teacup. She looked up at her mother, a hint of doubt in her eyes.
"Hmm? Is Ya Ya here? I just came back from outside and haven't seen her yet."
"Then he's probably staying in your room."
His mother sat down beside him, her tone tinged with a hint of reproach, yet full of tenderness.
"Ya Ya is clingy to you and always wants to spend more time with you, but you're always busy with the Dao Alliance."
At this point, she sighed softly and gave another word of advice.
"Try to spend more time with her in the future. Girls are thoughtful, so don't keep her waiting all the time."
"Yes, I understand, Mother."
Mu Qinghan lowered his head and took a sip of tea, the warmth sliding down his throat into his stomach.
Looking at his appearance, Old Lady Mu suddenly seemed to remember something, a smile appeared on her face, and she leaned closer and whispered.
"Oh, by the way, if you and Ya Ya are ready... Mom wants to hold her grandson."
"If I could have a granddaughter as beautiful as Ya Ya, that would be great too. Hmm... even if she's just a little fox, I'd be happy."
"You can go out and play as you please, Mom will stay home and take care of the children."
"This... Mother, I..."
Mu Qinghan looked up, but the words were on the tip of her tongue, and she didn't know how to respond.
"Haha, Mother was just kidding."
Seeing his appearance, his mother couldn't help but laugh, but as she laughed, her voice gradually lowered, and the smile in her eyes faded, replaced by a hint of loneliness.
"Mother is just a little scared..."
She raised her hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, her fingertips trembling slightly.
"I'm afraid I'll suddenly leave one day, afraid I won't see you and Shenqi get married and have children, and I won't be able to help you with your wedding."
"I'm afraid I won't see the Mu family line continue, I'm afraid... I'm afraid of so many things. I can't sleep at night because I keep thinking about them."
"Haha, is your mother getting old, just like your father, and turning into a nagging old woman?"
Old Man Mu, who was sitting at the table, also remained silent. He got up, walked to Mu Qinghan's side, and gently patted his shoulder.
The force wasn't heavy, but it carried a profound warmth.
It seemed to be conveying something, or perhaps offering silent comfort.
Mu Qinghan looked at his mother's haggard face—he didn't know when, but fine lines had appeared at the corners of her eyes, and a few strands of white hair had appeared at her temples, and she no longer had the radiance she once had.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something to comfort him, but when the words reached his lips, he found that all words seemed pale and powerless. He could only hold the warm teacup and remain silent for a long time.
The candlelight inside flickered gently, casting the shadows of the three people on the wall. It was so quiet that only the occasional sound of the wind outside the window could be heard.
"Alright, Qinghan, look at you, with such a sad face. I was just joking, don't take it to heart. Go on, go see your wife."
"Mmm... Mother..."
Chapter 149 Relaxation
The bathtub was steaming with water vapor.
Water droplets slid down Tu Shan Ya Ya's smooth arm and fell into the pool, splashing up tiny ripples.
She took a silk handkerchief and gently wiped the water stains from her shoulders, but her gaze unconsciously drifted towards the clothes rack.
The ice-blue skirt cascaded down, overlapping perfectly with the plain white brocade robe beside it, like two butterflies quietly nestled together.
A few pale pink peach petals floated on the water, making her bare skin appear even whiter, like fine jade soaking in warm water.
Suddenly, she heard soft footsteps outside the door, carrying a scent she knew all too well.
Tu Shan Ya Ya's hand holding the silk handkerchief suddenly paused, then a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes, and her ears perked up quietly.
"Ya Ya, are you inside? I'm coming in."
Mu Qinghan's gentle voice came from outside the door, and the door hinges clicked softly, the gap about to widen.
Tu Shan Ya Ya instinctively cried out, her heart pounding rapidly.
But as soon as she said it, she bit her lower lip.
She had seen it all these past few days; Mu Qinghan was constantly running around for various matters, and his eyes always carried an unyielding weariness. If only she could help him relax a little…
She took a deep breath, her fingertips curled slightly, and slowly stood up from the water.
Clear water slid down her exquisite curves and dripped onto the edge of the pool, the "drip-drip" sound particularly clear in the quiet room.
"You come in."
Her voice trembled slightly, and her cheeks were already flushed.
She raised her hand and tightly covered her chest, her knuckles turning slightly white.