Chapter 16

The door swung open halfway.

Yun Chun stepped through into the courtyard.

Her first glimpse was breathtaking.

The small yard brimmed with the essence of summer.

It was filled with flowers of every variety, all blooming in a riot of colors.

Yun Chun paused for a moment, then found herself wandering deeper into the yard amid the blossoms. Butterflies and bees danced among the petals, and the air was thick with sweet nectar.

It was a feast for the eyes, filling Yun Chun’s heart with the vibrant hues of summer.

She reached out, gently nudging the nearest flower bud. The bloom trembled in response.

She imagined that anyone who could cultivate such lush, dewy flowers must love life dearly. Did that mean Aunt Lu and Uncle Lu had started to move past Lu Qingxue’s death?

As a petal fluttered down from the quivering flower, Yun Chun walked to the door of the main house.

Peering through the glass, Yun Chun spotted a figure in a white dress. The woman sat on a beige sofa, head bowed over some handiwork. Her thick hair was woven into a fishtail braid draped over one shoulder, with a stray lock falling softly along the curve of her face.

Yun Chun’s eyes curved into a smile. She tapped on the glass. When the woman looked up in confusion, Yun Chun pushed the door open and called out with a grin, “Aunt Lu.”

Lu Wanyi, who had her head down, stared as the visitor entered. She set aside her bamboo weaving and rose slowly to her feet. Gazing at the young woman’s striking figure and lovely features, she whispered in disbelief, “Little Yun?”

“It’s me, Aunt Lu. Don’t you recognize me?” Yun Chun replied.

Yun Chun approached Lu Wanyi and set the fruit basket on the coffee table.

Looking at the stunned woman, Yun Chun opened her arms and pulled her into a gentle embrace.

A hug was the world’s best comfort.

Years ago, when Yun Chun had tripped while rushing to a dance performance, Lu Qingxue had scooped her up, brushed the dirt off her clothes, and given her a hug. “This will make it better,” she’d said. “All the pain will disappear.”

No matter what had happened, facing Lu Wanyi—who had lost her daughter—Yun Chun decided a hug was the first step. It would make things better.

Lu Wanyi trembled in her arms, guilt and embarrassment crowding her face.

After the brief embrace, Yun Chun stepped back half a pace. She looked at Lu Wanyi and said, “Aunt Lu, you haven’t changed a bit all these years. You’re still as beautiful as ever.”

Now certain it was truly Yun Chun standing before her, Lu Wanyi heard those words and felt her eyes well up uncontrollably. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she choked out, “Little Yun… I’m sorry…”

Yun Chun’s parted lips pressed together. Something in her chest tightened like a punch, a sour ache rising in her throat.

She hadn’t expected Lu Wanji’s first words to be an apology. Yun Chun had always melted for kindness but stood firm against force—one sincere “sorry” lodged all her confusion deep inside.

Lu Wanji’s tone was earnest, not a ploy to leverage pity or weakness, but a genuine apology.

At the same time, Yun Chun realized Aunt Lu was still the same Aunt Lu. Nothing had changed.

That meant her fears of an awkward confrontation wouldn’t come to pass.

Yun Chun forced a smile through the lump in her throat and said softly, “Aunt Lu, I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t even know about Sister Qingxue’s passing. I never came back to see you.”

Lu Wanyi raised her arms. Overcome with emotion, her hands shook as she cupped Yun Chun’s cheek. Hot tears reached her lips, but she smiled tenderly. “You’ve done nothing wrong, dear. It was all my fault—I put you through so much.” Her hand slid down from Yun Chun’s face, and she took the girl’s hand, giving it a few gentle pats. “Such a good girl… You’ve grown so tall. If I hadn’t seen your photos, I wouldn’t have recognized you.”

Lu Wanyi wanted to pull Yun Chun to the sofa for a chat, but Yun Chun’s peripheral vision caught the black-and-white photo on the cabinet against the wall.

She stared at it, then turned to Lu Wanyi. “Aunt Lu, could I light some incense for Sister Qingxue first?”

Lu Wanyi followed her gaze, wiped the tears from her face, and smiled through fresh ones. “Of course, dear. Let me get the incense for you.”

While Lu Wanyi fetched it, Yun Chun stood before the portrait, staring woodenly.

It felt so strange. Last night, she’d seen Lu Qingxue—felt her touch her face, ruffle her hair, even kiss her. Other than the lack of warmth, she’d seemed utterly lifelike, indistinguishable from the real thing. They’d even talked before she came here, as if Lu Qingxue had never left her side. Yet gazing at the black-and-white image, a wave of sorrow crashed over her anyway.

Lu Qingxue looked just like the real person—but real people didn’t float. They didn’t vanish or appear out of nowhere.

A knot of frustration twisted in Yun Chun’s chest.

Before seeing the portrait, she’d clung to a shred of denial, convincing herself she was losing her mind: hallucinating Lu Qingxue as a ghost by her side, imagining her death and ghostly embraces. But reality had a way of sobering her up.

Especially this portrait.

They’d chosen a formal ID photo, straight-faced and proper. Yet it was beautiful, strikingly so—the kind of beauty that black and white couldn’t dim.

Lu Qingxue’s beauty mark beneath her eye stood out sharply in monochrome, like a himiscus from the River of Forgetfulness, its vivid red faded to black but still alluring in its bloom. Even her willow-leaf eyes, cool and distant, held a gentle warmth in Yun Chun’s eyes.

The whole image was impossible to ignore. But it was heartbreaking, too.

Lu Wanyi handed Yun Chun three sticks of incense. Yun Chun took them, lit the tips with a lighter, and gently shook them until the flames died to glowing embers. She held the incense between her fingers—right hand below, left above—and before bowing in reverence, she glanced sideways at Lu Wanyi.

Lu Qingxue stood there, watching her mother.

The moment Yun Chun thought of her while standing before the portrait, she had appeared.

She wore a black dress, her hair styled in the same fishtail braid as Lu Wanji’s.

Side by side, they stirred memories of Yun Chun’s childhood: a gentle aunt and a gentle older sister.

She’d loved the warmth of the Lu family, so she’d often pestered Yun Yueqin to bring her over to play.

Noticing Yun Chun looking her way, Lu Qingxue shifted her gaze from Lu Wanyi and smiled softly at Yun Chun. “Little Darling is such a good girl,” she said tenderly. “She even knows to light incense for her big sister.”

Yun Chun blinked awkwardly.

At the same moment, Lu Wanyi saw Yun Chun staring in her direction without speaking. Thinking she had something to say, she asked a bit uncomfortably, “W-What’s wrong?”

Yun Chun shook her head without a word and inserted the incense into the burner.

As the smoke curled upward, Yun Chun could have sworn Lu Qingxue’s figure flickered, growing more translucent than before.

~~~

After Yun Chun paid her respects, Lu Wanyi led her to the sofa.

She poured hot water for Yun Chun, washed some fruit, and bustled about for a few minutes before Yun Chun stopped her and they both sat down.

Once seated, a few seconds of silence passed before Yun Chun broke the tension. “Is Uncle Lu not home?”

Lu Wanyi gave an awkward smile. “He had work at the company, so he went back yesterday to handle it. If I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t have let him go.”

“Work comes first,” Yun Chun said.

Lu Wanji’s lips twitched, but she couldn’t find words.

Her heart raced with panic at facing Yun Chun alone.

She knew the ghost marriage was a grave wrong against her. Even though she’d gotten Yun Chun’s contact from Lü Feng months ago, she’d never reached out.

Every time she picked up her phone to call and explain, shame had stopped her cold.

She’d wronged Yun Chun. Wronged her late friend Yue Qin.

But she had no other choice. Between the two, she’d ultimately chosen her daughter.

The thought made Lu Wanji’s eyes redden again. She choked out, “Little Yun, I know why you’re here. It’s my fault—I never asked you… never got your consent before deciding on my own to have you and Little Snow…”

Lu Wanyi gripped Yun Chun’s hand, sobbing. “Yell at me if you want, or tell me to do anything. I can’t live with the guilt otherwise.”

She wasn’t pressuring Yun Chun; she truly meant it.

Yun Chun glanced toward Lu Qingxue, who stood by the coffee table watching Lu Wanyi with pained, shadowed eyes.

Lu Wanji’s cries filled her ears. Yun Chun opened her mouth, unsure what to say. She wanted to tell her that Lu Qingxue was right there, watching them—but who would believe it without seeing for themselves? It would just sound like empty comfort.

Yell at Lu Wanyi? Yun Chun could never lash out at her the way she had at Lü Feng. The words wouldn’t come.

Lu Wanji was a pitiful soul too, in the wake of her daughter’s death.

Even if her actions disgusted Yun Chun, the sight of this woman weeping like rain made it impossible for one woman to condemn another.

Things had happened. Anger changed nothing now. Better to find a way forward.

Yun Chun’s gaze shifted from Lu Qingxue to Lu Wanyi. She leaned forward, pulled a tissue from the box on the coffee table, and handed it over.

“Aunt Lu…”

At Yun Chun’s call, Lu Wanyi stifled her sobs and looked up.

The instant Yun Chun spoke, Lu Qingxue’s figure shimmered and vanished into thin air.

Yun Chun knew she was giving them space to talk.

Seeing Lu Wanyi with tears streaming down her face, Yun Chun’s heart softened. She said gently, “To be honest, I did resent you a little.”

Upon hearing this, Lu Wanyi parted her lips, but before she could speak, Yun Chun continued, “Don’t apologize to me again. I know you had your reasons.”

“Because I thought about it—you and Uncle Lu both received higher education. You’re not the type to cling to outdated superstitions. A ghost marriage—” Yun Chun paused for a moment. “Something like a ghost marriage shouldn’t have happened at all… right? So, can you tell me why? Why did you arrange a ghost marriage for Sister Qingxue? Was it just so she wouldn’t be alone? But why choose me of all people?”

She had a string of questions, far from finished, as doubts swirled in Yun Chun’s mind. Right after, she posed yet another one—a question that had troubled her before, one she couldn’t bring herself to ask Lu Qingxue directly, nor expect an answer from her.

“And…”

“How did Sister Qingxue die?”

Yun Chun grasped Lu Wanyi’s hand in return. “Can you tell me everything from the beginning?”