Chapter 56

The quiet cemetery gate saw cars entering one by one, each with a white ribbon tied to the side mirrors—clearly coming straight from the funeral home for a burial.

Shen Duoyi stepped out of the car, holding Grandpa Shen’s urn tightly in his arms. He glanced up at the tall stone steps ahead, his face expressionless. His eyes were swollen and aching, the tears seemingly never-ending. Beside him, Qi Shi'an placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Duoyi, let’s go up.”

Nodding, Shen Duoyi hugged the urn closer and began ascending the steps. Each step was deliberate, his lips pressed tight, his gaze fixed on the ground. With Qi Shi'an by his side, he reached the tombstone.

Behind them, the neighbors couldn’t contain their sobs. They had watched Shen Duoyi grow up, stuffing him with treats as he darted from one end of the alley to the other. Now, they saw his thin, solitary figure standing before three tombstones, bereft of all family.

Shen Duoyi knelt before the tombstone, carefully placing the urn into the grave. He grabbed a handful of soil and sprinkled it over the urn. Qi Shi'an knelt beside him, bowing his head three times alongside Shen Duoyi.

Once the grave was filled, the burial was complete. The entire process lasted no more than fifteen minutes. The three tombstones stood side by side—Grandpa Shen’s, and Shen Duoyi’s parents’. It was as though the family was finally together, reunited.

One by one, the neighbors stepped forward to bow and lay flowers. Some wept uncontrollably; others murmured words, asking Grandpa Shen to rest in peace. White chrysanthemums piled up before the grave, and the image on the tombstone bore a faint smile.

Shen Duoyi’s legs felt weak as he turned unsteadily to face the neighbors, bowing deeply.

“Thank you all. My family is small, and this funeral could not have been arranged without your help.” His voice was thick with emotion, his eyes glistening, and the hem of his mourning robe damp with tears. “From childhood to now, my grandpa and I have received so much care from all of you. Before he passed, he asked me to have his procession start from the hutong, so everyone could see him off. He always held you in his heart, grateful for your kindness.”

Wiping his tears with the back of his hand, Shen Duoyi continued, “My parents left early, and now Grandpa has gone to join them. They’re together now, and I’m happy for them.”

He spoke a great deal—sometimes quickly, other times choking on his words, unable to continue. But he finished, haltingly yet resolutely. Qi Shi'an stood silently beside him, tears falling freely more than once.

At first, Qi Shi'an thought Shen Duoyi resembled a hydrangea—beautiful and delicate. Later, he thought he was like a sensitive plant, shy and reserved.

Through it all, Qi Shi'an wanted to be a sturdy tree, shielding him from the wind and rain, building a greenhouse for him. But now, he realized Shen Duoyi was a free bird, growing strong amidst storms, always flapping his wings against the gales.

When the ceremony was over and the mourners bid their goodbyes, they left the cemetery in small groups. Shen Duoyi stayed behind, waiting until everyone was gone. Alone with Qi Shi'an, he crouched in front of the three tombstones.

Tugging on Qi Shi'an’s pant leg, Shen Duoyi looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. “Come crouch with me.”

Qi Shi'an joined him, kneeling beside him as they adjusted the white chrysanthemums on Grandpa Shen’s grave. “Grandpa, there’s no more space here. I’ll divide them up for you,” Shen Duoyi murmured, his voice trembling but steadier than before.

He divided the flowers into three bundles, placing one in front of each grave. Dusting his hands off, he turned to Qi Shi'an and dusted his hands too. Suddenly, he grasped Qi Shi'an’s hand tightly and bowed his head.

“Grandpa, Dad, Mom, can you see this? Shi'an came wearing mourning cloth. I’m not alone. I have him.”

Qi Shi'an wrapped his arms around Shen Duoyi. “That’s right. You have me.”

Shen Duoyi, crying and laughing at the same time, buried his face against Qi Shi'an. “My eyes hurt.”

Qi Shi'an gently wiped the corners of Shen Duoyi's eyes with his sleeve and said tenderly, "Then stop crying. Let’s go home."

The two walked down the stone steps side by side. Shen Duoyi removed his mourning hat and cloth, finally taking off his white mourning robe. As they left the cemetery, the sky was clear and bright. Shen Duoyi turned back for one last look.

He shouted, “I’m leaving!”

Then, in a quieter voice, added, “I’m doing well.”

Qi Shi'an drove Shen Duoyi back to Qiuye Street, where they helped tidy up the house. Before leaving, Shen Duoyi expressed his gratitude to Lin Yuzhu and Fei De’an.

Lin Yuzhu, worried, held Shen Duoyi’s hand. “Stay here for a while. How will you manage on your own?”

Qi Shi'an stepped forward. “Auntie, don’t worry. I’ll take care of Duoyi.”

The couple exchanged glances, puzzled. Qi Shi'an wearing mourning attire during the funeral had raised questions they hadn’t dared to ask. Qi Shi'an himself felt a twinge of regret, worried it might embarrass Shen Duoyi.

But Shen Duoyi’s warm hand slipped into his, dispelling his concern. “Uncle, Auntie, I’m like Fei Yuan,” Shen Duoyi said plainly.

It took Lin Yuzhu and Fei De’an a moment to process his words. Their surprise was evident as Shen Duoyi confidently tugged Qi Shi'an closer. “This is Qi Shi'an. We’ve been together for a while. He’s really, really great, so I’m doing great too. Don’t worry about me.”

As they left the house and strolled from one end of the alley to the other, Qi Shi'an’s emotions swirled in bittersweet confusion. He couldn’t help but tease, “Am I really that great?”

Shen Duoyi nodded. “Don’t you think so yourself?”

Qi Shi'an grinned, wanting to lighten the mood. “Actually, I do.”

They first stopped by Wenhu Apartments. The moment Shen Duoyi stepped inside, his recently steadied emotions churned again. The scent of the elderly lingered in the air, stirring a wave of sorrow in both his chest and nostrils.

The rocking chair sat on the balcony. The radio rested on the coffee table. The blanket lay crumpled on the sofa.

Everything remained as it was, as if Grandpa Shen hadn’t left. Shen Duoyi stood in the middle of the living room, dazed. The overhead light illuminated the room, but within him, the world dimmed inch by inch.

“Duoyi,” Qi Shi'an said softly, “pack some things and come with me. Don’t stay here.”

Shen Duoyi turned to him. “When we moved in after the renovations, I covered Grandpa’s eyes and asked if he was surprised. He was so happy, hobbling around the house with his cane, saying he never imagined living somewhere so beautiful.”

“In the winter, we went to hot springs. In the summer, we fished. He loved sitting in the rocking chair, enjoying the view or listening to storytelling until he drifted off to sleep.” Shen Duoyi took a deep breath, exhaling heavily. “In the end, there were no regrets.”

He packed a few clothes, and they left Wenhu Apartments. It seemed unlikely he would return anytime soon.

Qi Shi'an’s apartment was fully prepared, with all the essentials in place. Both men were utterly exhausted after the day’s events. Shen Duoyi hung his clothes in the wardrobe, then stood before the open door, lost in thought.

“Duoyi,” Qi Shi'an approached, “stop spacing out. Take a hot shower and get some rest.”

Shen Duoyi picked up his pajamas and headed to the bathroom. Soaking in the warm bath, he found a fleeting sense of safety and comfort. Afterward, he returned to the bedroom, where Qi Shi'an sat on the bed with a towel in hand, ready to dry his hair.

Shen Duoyi knelt in front of Qi Shi'an, wrapping his arms around his waist.

The towel slowly absorbed the moisture from his hair, becoming damp. Qi Shi'an felt the warmth of a wet patch against his waist and realized Shen Duoyi was crying.

“I’m sorry,” Shen Duoyi looked up, tears streaming. “I might cry a lot these days. I don’t want to, but I can’t control it.”

Qi Shi'an pulled him onto the bed and gently pinned him down. After washing the towel, he returned to find the pillow soaked with fresh tears. Draping the cool towel over Shen Duoyi’s eyes, he coaxed, “Cry for five more minutes, then sleep. Otherwise, your eyes will hurt.”

Shen Duoyi sniffled, his closed eyes blurring the line between reality and dreams. He fell silent, quietly wishing Grandpa Shen would visit him in his dreams.

By the time Qi Shi'an finished his shower, Shen Duoyi was fast asleep. Qi Shi'an climbed into bed and pulled Shen Duoyi into his arms.

His only family was gone now. The faster Shen Duoyi seemed to recover, the more Qi Shi'an worried about him.

The heavy curtains shut out the outside world. In the darkness of the bedroom, the two clung to each other in sleep, their troubles momentarily forgotten.

Unsure how long he had been asleep, Qi Shi'an woke up feeling cold and damp. Groggily, he opened his eyes but hadn’t yet turned on the bedside lamp when he heard a shout. Shen Duoyi was drenched in cold sweat, thrashing in the darkness. Suddenly, he scrambled out of bed, stumbling as he bolted from the bedroom.

“Duoyi!”

Qi Shi'an jumped out of bed and followed him. A loud bang echoed as the living room door opened and slammed shut. Qi Shi'an didn’t even stop to put on shoes; he grabbed his keys and ran out.

Taking a separate elevator down, he dashed through the lobby, only to see Shen Duoyi’s figure disappear through the entrance. Panic surged through him, and he nearly collided with a passerby in his haste. Racing outside, Qi Shi'an finally slowed when he spotted Shen Duoyi standing under a sycamore tree, staring blankly at the busy street.

Qi Shi'an approached him, his own eyes reddening. “Duoyi, don’t scare me like that.”

“I didn’t mean to…” Shen Duoyi’s voice was strained as he frowned, staring toward the end of the street. “I swear I saw my parents. They came to get Grandpa—they were calling him. He left with them, and he didn’t even wait for me…”

Qi Shi'an cupped Shen Duoyi’s face in his hands. “Grandpa’s gone, Duoyi. We said goodbye to him together today. Don’t you remember?”

Shen Duoyi’s unfocused eyes finally regained clarity. He nodded slowly. “I forgot. He’s already gone.”

After the ordeal, Shen Duoyi was silent on the way back, like a child who knew he had done something wrong. Once inside, he quietly went to the bedroom, climbed into bed, and cocooned himself in the blanket, shutting his eyes tightly.

Qi Shi'an, unable to relax, sat by his side reading a book. Realizing the sound of turning pages might disturb him, he moved to the adjacent room. Missing a whole day of work had already doubled his workload; now, catching up seemed insurmountable.

Opening his laptop, he started working, both to make progress and to stay alert in case Shen Duoyi had another nightmare. Files and documents soon piled up, spreading across the floor.

Shen Duoyi, however, slept peacefully this time. When he turned in his sleep, reaching for the spot beside him, his hand met only emptiness. Stirring awake, he realized he was alone.

Quietly stepping out of the bedroom, Shen Duoyi saw Qi Shi'an hunched over his desk in the dimly lit room.

Tired, burdened, yet composed. Supporting everything on his own with an air of calm.

At that moment, Shen Duoyi woke up—not from sleep, but from his fog of grief.

He turned back to the bathroom, washed his face, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. It was time to stop wallowing and rise to face life alongside Qi Shi'an.

In the kitchen, he warmed a glass of milk and used the last bag of bread to make four sandwiches. Carrying the plate into the study, his footsteps finally drew Qi Shi'an’s gaze from the documents.

“Mr. Qi,” Shen Duoyi said softly, “have a late-night snack.”

The two of them sat on the carpet, leaning against the sofa as they ate sandwiches and drank milk. Qi Shi'an devoured three and still wanted more, clinging to Shen Duoyi with mock petulance. “I’m so busy. There’s no busier boss on Central Street than me.”

Shen Duoyi neatly stacked a pile of blank paper in front of him and picked up a pen. “Big market analysis, right? Let me help.”

Qi Shi'an hesitated. “You should rest. I can manage on my own.”

But Shen Duoyi was already writing. “Let’s finish together, then rest together.”

Working side by side at the desk, Qi Shi'an analyzed while Shen Duoyi sketched charts and calculated figures. Occasionally, their eyes would meet, and sometimes they’d challenge each other’s ideas. When the debates got heated, they devolved into playful banter.

Shen Duoyi glanced at the computer screen. “The ones above 3000 points have already started doubling.” He circled a few stocks on the data sheet and passed it to Qi Shi'an. “Check these out. Don’t you think they’re risky?”

Qi Shi'an grinned. “Volatility’s building a base. Could be the dark horses of the future.”

They worked late into the night. During a brief pause, Qi Shi'an called the nurse's station at the hospital, but unfortunately, Zhang Yiming had not yet woken up. Shen Duoyi tidied up the desk, neatly clipping his data analysis sheets together.

The busy night had distracted him from his sorrows. Stretching, he noticed the astronomical telescope on the balcony.

Curiosity drew him over, and he sat down cross-legged, leaning over to peer through the eyepiece. The view was pitch black—he didn’t know how to adjust the focus—but he knew Qi Shi'an would come to help.

Sure enough, a familiar warmth pressed against his back as Qi Shi'an knelt behind him, arms wrapping around to adjust the telescope. With a few deft movements, the vast expanse of the starry sky came into view.

“Can you see now?” Qi Shi'an asked.

“Yes,” Shen Duoyi replied softly.

“What do you see?”

“I see my mom. She’s so beautiful tonight.”

Qi Shi'an felt a bittersweet tug at his heart and gently patted the back of Shen Duoyi’s head. Shen Duoyi, afraid to blink, stared unflinchingly at the brilliant celestial scene before him.

“There’s a new, bright star,” Shen Duoyi whispered. “Could that be Grandpa?”

Qi Shi'an hugged him tightly. “It is. Say hello to Grandpa for me.”

Shen Duoyi turned and wrapped his arms around Qi Shi'an’s shoulders. “You were right,” he murmured. “All misfortunes have no reason—only our reluctance to face them or accept them.”

Their love was steadfast, yet the road ahead was littered with trials. Qi Shi'an was grappling with the uncertainty of his dearest friend’s fate and a mountain of professional obligations. Shen Duoyi, having lost his last family member, faced the crushing weight of grief once more.

They had shared joys in better times; now, they shared sorrows.

Holding each other close, it was impossible to tell who was comforting whom, but the solace was mutual.

Shen Duoyi rested his hands on Qi Shi'an’s shoulders, gazing into his eyes. “You always know what I like, and you always see through my lies.”

Qi Shi'an smiled faintly. “What about me?”

Shen Duoyi’s expression softened. “Whatever path you take, I’ll walk beside you—always.”