Chapter 210 - 142: A Happy Reunion
Stepping through the main gate revealed a quiet, secluded courtyard. The flowers and plants had yellowed and shed their leaves. In a corner, a wintersweet bush had yet to bloom.
Though the house had been renovated, an air of age and decay still clung to every corner.
Duan Yu Yan pulled Zhou Yan inside, lowering her voice to ask, "What are you going to say to my grandmother? Do you need me to play along?"
"Just don’t say anything," Zhou Yan whispered back, pausing his steps. "I need to feel her out first. We don’t want to jump to the wrong conclusion if it’s not what we think."
Duan Yu Yan arched a delicate brow, a hint of worry in her eyes. "Just don’t go and conjure up a new grandfather for me. I wouldn’t mind, but I’m afraid my dad and my uncle couldn’t handle the shock of gaining a new father."
Zhou Yan looked at her. "You said if I can put the old lady’s heart at ease, you’ll sell me this house for ten thousand yuan. Does that offer still stand?"
"Don’t worry, I keep my word." Duan Yu Yan nodded and started walking again. "My grandmother is in the study practicing her calligraphy. Come with me."
Carrying the bowl, Zhou Yan followed, his eyes scanning the surroundings. The residence was even larger than he had anticipated. It was a two-courtyard compound with numerous rooms, the overall layout exquisite and ingenious. Many of the rooms were empty and locked.
They walked down a long corridor and stopped outside a room with an open door.
Duan Yu Yan stepped forward and knocked on the door. Looking at the old woman holding a brush at a long desk, she called out, "Grandma, that grandson from Zhang’s Braised Shop is here with the braised beef."
"’What do you mean, ’that grandson’?’ Zhou Yan raised an eyebrow. ’Are people from Xiangjiang always this impolite?’ His gaze followed hers into the room."
The study was furnished in a classic, antique style. One wall was lined with bookshelves filled with old tomes.
A long, solid wood table stood by the window on the right, with a calligraphy set—brush, ink, paper, and inkstone—laid out neatly upon it.
An old woman sat at the table, her side facing the door. She wore a black, three-quarter-sleeved cheongsam, her back ramrod straight. Her silver hair was gathered in a neat bun, held in place by a peach-wood hairpin set at a slant. In her hand, she held a calligraphy brush.
Zhou Yan’s gaze fell upon her face. Though the corners of her eyes were etched with fine lines, the curve of her profile remained soft. She possessed the same elegance of her youth, now imbued with an added layer of dignity.
For a fleeting moment, he seemed to see her as Miss Qiu, turning away at the Suji Stone Bridgehead with the Blue and White Porcelain Bowl in hand, her shoulders trembling as tears fell.
She was still the same woman. It seemed as if forty-odd years had done little more than etch a few fine lines onto her face before allowing her to age with grace.
’Mr. Duan must have treated her exceptionally well.’
At the sound of their voices, Qiu Qi’s hand trembled. A drop of ink fell onto the paper, blooming into a dark blot.
She turned to look at the doorway, her gaze landing on Zhou Yan standing there with the porcelain bowl. For a moment, her expression grew distant.
’The boy standing in the sunlight... he always used to stand at the door just like this, holding that Blue and White Porcelain Bowl.’
’But alas, it wasn’t him.’
Qiu Qi set down her brush and smiled faintly. "You’re the Zhang Family’s grandson?"
"’Yes. My grandmother asked me to send her regards.’ Zhou Yan replied with a nod and a smile of his own."
"’She... still remembers me?’ A flicker of surprise crossed Qiu Qi’s face."
"’When my grandmother was young, she saw the wedding you and Mr. Duan held at Feiyan Restaurant. She said it left a deep impression on her.’ Zhou Yan stepped forward and placed the porcelain bowl on the table. ’Miss Duan mentioned you were craving braised beef, so I prepared a special portion to bring to you today.’"
Staring at the porcelain bowl with its enamel lid, Qiu Qi reached out. Her hand stopped just before it touched the lid, her expression hesitant.
Duan Yu Yan’s fists were clenched in suspense, her eyes glued to Qiu Qi. It was the first time she had ever seen such an expression on her grandmother’s face—not her usual serene elegance, but a hint of... fluster.
Zhou Yan stood quietly, waiting for her to lift the lid.
After a moment’s hesitation, Qiu Qi finally lifted the lid.
Inside the white porcelain bowl, slices of braised beef were arranged in a neat spiral, layered meticulously from the bottom up.
Qiu Qi stared, transfixed, at the beef in the bowl. Her lips trembled, and two streams of tears traced paths down her cheeks.
’Forty-eight years... Still in this study. And the braised beef in the porcelain bowl... it looks exactly the same as it did back then.’
She used the table for support as she rose, walked over to a cabinet beside the bookshelf, and pulled open its door. From inside, she retrieved a Blue and White Porcelain Bowl.
Zhou Yan watched as she placed the Blue and White Porcelain Bowl on the table. Its glaze was covered in scratches. A corner had been broken and mended, and a crack ran halfway across its surface. But at the bottom, the painted peony still bloomed with unparalleled vibrancy.
’I can’t believe she still has this bowl.’
’The mottled, broken marks made Zhou Yan think of Wang Yu. How similar he was to this Blue and White Porcelain Bowl.’
Placed side by side, the two bowls looked nearly identical in size.
Qiu Qi wiped her tears away. After studying the bowl for a long time, she turned back to Zhou Yan. "Did you arrange this?"
"’My grandmother told me that the Fourth Young Master of the Wang Family used to bring a Blue and White Porcelain Bowl every time he came to buy braised beef,’ Zhou Yan nodded. ’He would always ask her to arrange it beautifully, because he was giving it to someone.’"
Tears welled in Qiu Qi’s eyes again. "Thank you," she whispered. "That was very thoughtful."
Zhou Yan looked at the bowl on the table. "This... this must be the very same Blue and White Porcelain Bowl from all those years ago, isn’t it? I’m surprised you still have it."
Qiu Qi’s fingers gently traced the surface of the Blue and White Porcelain Bowl, her gaze dimming. "It’s the last thing he ever gave me. I keep it as a memento. After all... I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead."
"’Is he the reason you refuse to go to Xiangjiang?’ Zhou Yan’s voice was gentle, but his question was startlingly direct."
Duan Yu Yan leaned forward slightly, her eyes wide with anticipation. ’This was some vintage gossip, and it was big and juicy. She was finally getting a taste of the drama from her grandparents’ generation.’
’You had to hand it to Zhou Yan. She would never have dared to ask a question that sharp.’