Chapter 001 Returning Home
Parallel universe number 106337.
Solar system, the third planet - Blue Planet.
March 19, 2017 AD.
There was a lot of traffic on the highway, and the bus driver was looking intently at the signboards on both sides, his expression appearing cautious.
There was a drizzle outside the car window .
The early spring, when the weather is still cold, always brings some capricious emotions.
The passengers in the car seemed to be feeling sad too, at least on the surface, all dressed in uniform black suits, black gauze armbands and white chrysanthemums.
In the depressing atmosphere, the bus driver saw the sign ahead, which clearly read "Huashi 10 kilometers".
In the front seat, a pale young man was looking out the window with bloodshot eyes, his gaze was empty and blank, and his hands were tightly clasping two small jars.
The dark clouds in the sky seemed to be filled with everlasting despair and depression; the cold icy rain hitting the glass looked so pale and powerless.
After a while, the driver gently turned the steering wheel, and the bus drove off the highway with its turn signals flashing.
As soon as we entered the township road, the potholes and small stones on the road caused the bus to shake slightly.
Instead of entering Huashi Town, we turned to the township road in the southwest direction.
Clouds and mist linger between the hills and mountains.
The drizzle came and went, and the road was still bumpy. The unexpected bumps made people feel somewhat uncomfortable.
However, the young man leaning against the car window had no ripples in his heart, as if it were a pool of stagnant water.
The storm outside and the depressing silence in the car were not even a fraction as great as his grief.
"Qingye, we're here."
A gentle and magnetic voice rang in his ears, and the source of the voice had a sad and concerned look on his face.
Li Qingye woke up from his grief and looked at the old man with gray hair in front of him. His lips trembled slightly as he replied, "I know, Uncle Wu."
The old man turned his head and ordered seriously: "Jianxin, Xiaohong, you help Qingye."
"Okay." Du Jianxin, the short, round-faced young man, nodded.
Another tall, square-faced young man wearing glasses, Su Hong, also stood up and quickly helped Li Qingye up to prevent any accidents from happening to the urn.
With the help and escort of the two people, the group finally got off the car.
Du Jianxin and the old man were holding a black umbrella together.
There was still drizzling rain in the sky.
More than a dozen villagers from Gaoshansi Village, Qingshanqiao Town, led by two elders, waited at the village gate for a long time holding black umbrellas.
The elegant old man hurried forward to greet him: "I am Wu Heguang, a good friend . I would like to trouble you fellow villagers with the funeral affairs this time."
"Mr. Wu, you are too polite. I am Zhonghua's seventh uncle. It's fate! Alas..." The old man with the cane glanced at the pale Li Qingye and sighed slightly.
Seventh Uncle comforted Li Qingye a few more words, then took the group to the small square in the village.
In the small square, in a shed that had been set up long ago, there were a mourning hall, a memorial tablet and wreaths. Li Qingye silently placed his parents' urn on the table in front of the memorial tablet, and then knelt on a cushion on the side.
The long sound of the suona is like the blood-crying cuckoo.
The sound of gongs and drums was deafening, like falling stars.
"One bow... two bows... three bows!"
"Family appreciation gift!"
Li Qingye had a blank look in his eyes and mechanically repeated the greeting.
Soon, the guests who had come by bus left in groups of three or five, and one Mercedes-Benz and BMW after another drove away in the rain.
At the village gate.
The two Mercedes-Benzes, escorted by four large Raptors, slowly left the small mountain village.
In the car.
A man with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes coldly tore off the black gauze armband and threw the white chrysanthemum pinned on his chest and the armband out of the car window.
In the wind and rain, the white chrysanthemum fell into the weeds by the roadside. The cars whizzing past splashed up a large amount of water, washing the white chrysanthemum into the river not far away.
The white chrysanthemum drifted with the current, drifting farther and farther towards an unknown destination.
…
The golden crow sets in the west.
The small village in the mountains looked even more gloomy.
The funeral music became weak, and the relatives and guests who came to see him off had almost all arrived. In the flickering candlelight in the mourning hall, Li Qingye's face became even paler.
"Mr. Li, please go back and have a rest! Leave this to me and Old Su!" Wu Heguang pulled his seventh uncle and said with concern as they walked.
Uncle Seven sighed and replied tiredly, "I'm old now, so I can only trouble you. Zhonghua is lucky to have friends like you. President Wu and President Su should also go to bed early!"
"I'll stay with Aoba a little longer." Wu Heguang said with a sigh.
"Then let me take Uncle Li there!" Another square-faced old man, Su Ruoyu, held up an umbrella and supported his seventh uncle as they walked away.
"Okay, thank you for your help, Old Su." Looking at the backs of Su Ruoyu and Seventh Uncle, Wu Heguang looked calm as he took out a cigarette and lit it.
Smoke swirled around its face.
Su Ruoyu suddenly looked back. Under the dim street light, the drizzle and mist made the face blurry.
The gazes of the two seemed to penetrate the rain and smoke, and everything was said without words.
Su Ruoyu continued to support his seventh uncle as they walked further and further away.
Wu Heguang put out his cigarette, turned around and walked into the mourning hall.
The two people walked away from each other, and no one knew what they were thinking.
the next day.
The weather is still drizzling.
Accompanied by his seventh uncle, Wu Heguang, Su Ruoyu and others, Li Qingye stored his parents' ashes in the old house.
This is a small villa that Li Qingye’s father bought when he returned to his hometown. It is located at the foot of Changshan Mountain.
Li Qingye, decadent and bewildered, knelt before the spirit tablet. The sudden death of his parents dealt him a huge blow, and for a moment he was unable to accept this reality.
As the funeral came to an end, the villa became deserted.
Only Li Qingye, Wu Heguang with gray hair, and Ruoyu with a sad face were left.
"Qingye, I'm so sad." Wu Heguang patted his shoulder and said, "Zhonghua's spirit in heaven wouldn't want you to be depressed."
Li Qingye still stared blankly at the spirit tablet, kneeling there without saying a word.
Su Ruoyu wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and sobbed, "Qingye, it's Uncle Su. I'm sorry for you and Zhonghua. If it weren't for..."
"Okay, Lao Su, who could have predicted such an accident? It's fate!" Wu Heguang sighed.
In Li Qingye's eyes, tears were like the Yellow River bursting its banks, flowing down her cheeks and falling silently onto the floor.
Suddenly, there were slight vibrations in Wu Heguang's pocket.
He quickly walked out of the mourning hall, took out his cell phone and answered the call.
After a while.
Wu Heguang said apologetically, "Qingye, there is an emergency at the company. Lao Su and I must rush back to Pengcheng. I have already talked to Mr. Li here. Someone will come to deliver meals every day. You must take care of your health and cheer up."
Su Ruoyu's eyes changed slightly.
Wu Heguang continued, "Qingye, your parents' shares will be left to you by me. You must cheer yourself up again. I don't have any children either, so my share will be yours in the future."
Li Qingye's eyes were filled with emotion, and he immediately knelt down and kowtowed to Wu Heguang:
"Uncle Wu, Qingye has no way to repay your kindness."
"Qingye, this is what your uncle should do." Wu Heguang wiped his tears and took a document from the assistant's hand: "This is your uncle's notarized will. If anything happens to me, you can take this will and inherit my share of the shares!"
"This...can't be done..." Li Qingye looked hesitant.
Wu Heguang patted his shoulder , "Qingye, my uncle has no children. You can just burn three sticks of incense for me on Qingming Festival in the future."
After saying that, he stuffed the will into Li Qingye's hands.
Su Ruoyu, who was standing aside, had a blank expression on his face and said nothing.
In Li Qingye's helpless gaze.
Wu Heguang and Su Ruoyu hurriedly left the villa, got on their own motorcade, and drove away in the continuous rain.
The third floor of the villa.
Li Qingye stood by the window, watching the convoy disappear at the foot of the small mountain village. His eyes showed confusion, contemplation, and more importantly, a tangled mess of thoughts.
