As night draped its velvet cloak, heavy with the weight of recent loss, Guo Baiyu and Zhao Renshu remained, each leaning against a cold side of Ping'an's statue, their bodies rigid with grief, words failing them. A distant light flickered, growing steadily, as Xiao Hui and Xiao Dan approached, their steps soft, tentative. The two sisters sat gently beside them, each producing a small pot of fragrant rice wine from their robes.
"Drink something," Xiao Hui offered, her voice soft and alluring, laced with a tender concern, as she handed a pot to Zhao Renshu. "You two haven't eaten or drunk."
"Everyone is very worried about you two," Xiao Dan added, her gentle smile tinged with sadness, as she passed a pot to Guo Baiyu. "Father said we leave for Fox Mountain early tomorrow morning. If you're staying here overnight, the wine will warm your body."
The two men, weary and numb, accepted the pots, their hands trembling slightly.
"Thank you, we are alright," Guo Baiyu managed, a faint, almost ghost-like smile touching his lips, devoid of true mirth.
"I know you're fine," Xiao Hui countered, a worried crease forming in her brow, her concern deepening. "But are you in good spirits?"
Guo Baiyu's faint smile was now clearly tinged with profound sorrow, a raw vulnerability in his eyes. "We just need time to adapt," he whispered, acknowledging the gaping void in their lives.
Xiao Dan's gaze drifted to Ping'an's serene, unchanging form, a silent question in her eyes. "What will happen to Ping'an?"
"She will remain like this for eternity," Guo Baiyu explained, his voice heavy with a grief that resonated in every syllable. "If the Demon Gate opens again, she will come back to life as Syaoran, and after her work is completed, she will change back into a clay sculpture like this, again and again."
Xiao Hui looked at the two men, her concern palpable. "What about you two?" she asked softly.
Zhao Renshu took a slow, deliberate sip of his wine, the warmth doing little to thaw the ice in his heart. "We will stay here with her," he stated, his voice flat, resolute, a vow.
More lantern lights emerged from the oppressive darkness, a beacon of concern, rushing towards the small, grief-stricken group. Fang Yaoting, Lee Dachin, Lim Peizhi, the Huang sisters, Guo Longtong, Boss Xiong, and Xiong Lifeng approached, their figures casting long shadows, forming a large, comforting circle around the three seated friends, a silent embrace of support. One by one, Xiong Lifeng's meticulously prepared dishes were brought out, their rich aromas a stark contrast to the somber mood. Everyone ate in a quiet, somber communion, the only sounds the clinking of chopsticks against bowls.
Guo Longtong finally broke the heavy silence, his voice a little hoarse, a forced lightness in his tone. "You two don't remember how to hold chopsticks?" He chuckled, a bittersweet sound that wavered on the edge of tears. "I remember the first time I saw Ping'an picking up two pairs of chopsticks, ha...ha...ha... one in each hand. Then she picked up a piece of meat and put it in your bowls, and then handed you the chopsticks... I got goosebumps."
A ripple of soft, melancholic laughter spread through the group, a brief, fragile moment of shared nostalgia.
Xiao Hui's voice was low and smoky, a wistful memory in her tone. "I still remember the first time I saw her. I was chased by wild wolves, and I ran to her. When Renshu attacked the wolf, I changed into a human form, and she was so scared!" She laughed softly, a tender, reminiscent sound. "Her frightened face was priceless."
Xiao Dan chuckled softly, a memory of her own surfacing. "For me, she whipped me so hard. It was difficult to avoid her attack!" The memory, though painful, brought a faint smile to her lips.
The laughter continued, a bomb, fragile but effective, against the pervasive grief, warming the cold night.
Huang Hongse's voice was cool, distant, yet held a hint of grudging admiration. "When I first saw her, I didn't like her. But her love for you two defeated me." Her gaze rested on the statue, a silent acknowledgment of Ping'an's unwavering affection.
Huang Yueliang smiled, a gentle sadness in her eyes, a softness in her voice. "For me, it was her willingness to help people in need. That's what I liked about her, her boundless compassion."
"For me, it was her sincerity," Lim Peizhi added, his gaze fixed on the statue, his voice filled with quiet respect. "Her willingness to go the extra mile, to truly care."
Fang Yaoting smiled, a wistful expression on his face, his eyes distant with a shared past. "When I saw her for the first time, I hated her the most. I hated that someone like her could dominate Baiyu's heart. But to me, she became a true friend. She's a person who would never leave you behind. She'd accompany you on the most dangerous road, without hesitation." He raised his pot of wine towards Ping'an, a solemn gesture. "I toast to you," he murmured.
Lee Dachin's voice was soft, fragile, trembling with unshed tears. "For me, she showed me strength, courage, and the will to continue living. She's the kind of person who wouldn't let go of that rope, willing to die with me, to save me." Tears welled in his eyes, spilling freely. "If that day she didn't hold onto the rope tightly, I wouldn't be here today."
Guo Longtong turned to Guo Baiyu, his eyes filled with gentle inquiry. "Baiyu, how about you?"
Guo Baiyu's voice was a raw whisper, barely audible, thick with the weight of his heart. "She's our everything."
Zhao Renshu's gaze hardened, fixing on Boss Xiong with a chilling, predatory intensity, his eyes burning with accusation. "What about you? What is she to you? Why are you here?!" he demanded, his voice sharp, cutting through the comforting atmosphere.
Guo Baiyu looked at Zhao Renshu, a silent plea in his eyes, a warning. "Renshu."
"Not this time, Baiyu," Zhao Renshu retorted, his voice cold and sharp, his resolve unyielding. "What was she to you? I'm very curious about a father who doesn't recognize his daughter, who doesn't let her use your surname. A father who let his daughter be an offering, a sacrifice. A father who raised his daughter as a servant. What was she to you, Boss Xiong?!"
Boss Xiong closed his eyes, a pained expression twisting his features, a lifetime of regret etched upon his face. "I hated her," he confessed, the words heavy, torn from his soul, laden with self-loathing.
Everyone stared at Boss Xiong, stunned into shocked silence, the air suddenly thick with revelation.
"If you hated her, why the hell are you doing here?!" Zhao Renshu roared, his anger erupting, raw and uncontrollable, reverberating through the still night.
"I hated her for looking so much like her mother!" Boss Xiong shouted back, his voice cracking with emotion, raw grief pouring from him. "I hated her for taking away my best friend! I hated her for taking away my confidence, my pride, my courage, and my first love... I hated her for being the reason that cost the death of my most beloved wife! For that reason, I hated her!" He broke down, bawling openly, his body wracked with sobs. "I was not good to her, so she would leave, and I wouldn't have to see her face again." He stumbled to his feet and knelt clumsily before her statue, his voice filled with desperate, agonizing remorse, tears streaming onto the cold clay. "But no matter how bad I was to her, she never complained. She pretended not to hear all the verbal abuses, all the name-calling, all the scolds, and all the hits. After all those mistreatments, she never tried to leave. She endured everything. I was wrong. Will you forgive me?"
Xiong Lifeng stepped forward, her face pale, protesting on her father's behalf, trying to bridge the gap. "My father never truly hated her. It was my mother's fault. When Ping'an worked hard all day long, and if there was no more food left at night, father would always have Old Lu cook for her, but he ordered Old Lu not to tell her the truth." She went over and helped her father up, guiding him gently. "Brother-in-law Renshu, I dare to ask. When you see that scar on Ping'an's left chest, does it always remind you of the person who put it there? I hope that both of you can forgive father, just like father accepted the two of you as his sons-in-law." Her voice was soft but carried a profound meaning.
Zhao Renshu understood Xiong Lifeng's meaning instantly, a bitter taste, sharp and metallic, in his mouth. Every time he saw the scar on Ping'an's left breast, it always reminded him of Hu Qinge, a haunting phantom of the past. He spoke in a low, remorseful tone, his anger dissipating, replaced by regret. "I'm sorry, Boss Xiong."
"Boss Xiong?" Lim Peizhi interjected softly, a hint of gentle correction in his voice. "You need to change how you address Boss Xiong now."
Boss Xiong cried, his voice choked with emotion, overwhelmed by the forgiveness. "Please forgive me?" he pleaded again, his eyes seeking affirmation.
"She forgave you a long time ago," Guo Baiyu said, his voice gentle, filled with compassion. "She once told us that she should thank you for being strict with her, because it made her understand the value of love and friendship. Moreover, you turned her into the woman she is now—a woman of immense strength and love."
"It reminds me of the night we were on the roof of Peace Town ten years ago," Fang Yaoting murmured, a nostalgic, wistful smile touching his lips, recalling a happier, simpler time.
"Yueliang, play us a song," Lim Peizhi requested, his voice soft, a plea for comfort in the melody.
Huang Yueliang, her eyes filled with gentle sorrow, took out her guzheng and began to play the same hauntingly beautiful song she had played ten years ago. Now, however, the moment did not echo the joyful past, when the friends sat on the rooftop watching fireworks scatter across the night sky, their hearts light. Instead, they sat together, listening to the familiar melody, but now accompanied by the profound, aching loneliness of missing Ping'an, a void that the music could not fill, only acknowledge.