The memories halted, and at this moment, Yan Feng still sat in the corner, dazed, clutching his head in silence.

He had been like this for an entire day.

But in truth, Chen Xi wasn't worried. She had already completely won over the man's body, and as for his heart, she could take her time.

Putting down the spatula, the young girl poured a small bowl of freshly cooked meat porridge, carefully carried it, and crossed the living room to the man.

"Uncle, it's time to eat~"

But Yan Feng, lying on the bed, remained unresponsive, staring blankly as if his soul had left him.

Seeing this, Chen Xi wasn't angry. Instead, she scooped a bit of the porridge with a spoon, pried open the man's lower lip, and fed it to him bit by bit with a smile.

Yet the man was already dead inside, unable to swallow. After just a few spoonfuls, the porridge began to spill out.

Even so, the young girl wasn't disgusted. Instead, she patiently took a tissue from the side and wiped him clean, inch by inch, with meticulous care.

In the process, she playfully ran her fingertip over the man's thin lips, gently teasing, as if she were handling a precious treasure, over and over...

Suddenly, Chen Xi seemed to think of something, her lips curled into a smile. She took a sip of the porridge herself, then gently cradled the man's head with both hands, pressing her lips to his, transferring it all.

Not a drop was wasted.

The interruption in memory brought consciousness back, and Yan Feng's pupils trembled violently. He instinctively pushed Chen Xi away, covering his mouth and gasping for air.

He glanced at the porridge spilled on him, then at the bewitching young girl smiling before him, his lips twitching.

A surge of immense guilt and a sense of betrayal overwhelmed him, shattering all his mental defenses. The man couldn't hold on any longer, rolling off the bed, scrambling to his feet, and fleeing out the door without bothering to put on clothes or shoes.

…………

Walking down the street, Yan Feng felt as if he had returned to an unknown time in the past, just as lonely and uncared for, just as disheveled and dirty, not knowing where home was.

But unfortunately... no one would come to pick him up, pat his head, and let him call them sister...

He suddenly longed to go home... to that place called an embrace...

With this thought, he stopped, standing by the roadside, woodenly waving at passing cars.

Soon, a taxi pulled up beside him, and the man, lost and forlorn, got in, hearing the driver ask:

"Hello, where to?"

His lips twitched, attempting to speak, but his voice came out hoarse like never before:

"To... the cemetery..."

…………

After paying and getting out of the car, the familiar scene appeared before him once more, just as simple, just as comforting.

His soul dragged his body into the small house, the noise startling the old man still watering the flowers. The old man looked at the visitor with a hint of surprise in his eyes:

"Young man... what's happened to you? Why aren't you wearing shoes, and why are you in such a state?"

Hearing this, Yan Feng's consciousness slightly returned, and he looked at his own attire.

It was clearly late autumn, yet he was only wearing a T-shirt, with white stains on his long pants, and no shoes on his feet, one bare foot, the other in a white sock that had turned black from dirt.

He felt embarrassed, quickly apologized, and turned to leave.

Just then, the old man's voice called out to him from behind.

"Young man, you're here to see her, aren't you?"

Yan Feng stopped in his tracks, facing the old man again, but not daring to meet his eyes, only nodding while looking down.

"That's good... it's good to know you're here to see her..." The old man said, turning to rummage through a nearby wardrobe, pulling out a set of old, washed-out linen clothes and a pair of cloth shoes, handing them to him:

"These are my old clothes from when I was young. They're old, but they're clean. Young man, tidy yourself up before you go see her..."

Yan Feng accepted the clothes, nodding gratefully, and took out his phone to pay the old man.

But the old man waved it off with a smile.

"It's been a year, and no one has come to keep this old man company, only you, young man, willing to come and talk to me..."

The old man bent down, picking up a few freshly cut roses from the ground, handing them to him: "If you have something on your mind, go see her, and take one for the one next to her for me."

"Next to her?"

"Yes..." The old man nodded, smiling: "I, an old man, spent most of my life with her without having a child. She kept asking me to find one in those years, but I never listened. Just do me this favor, let her see what a 'son' looks like, and fulfill our wish..."

Hearing this, Yan Feng straightened his back, solemnly accepting the roses, nodding:

"Don't worry."

…………

At the place of eternal rest, between life and death, the two finally met again.

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Yan Feng didn't follow Uncle Zhao's instructions but left all the roses for the man's wife.

Because he felt that he was not worthy of offering Bai Xi a rose.

Reunion, though it had only been a month, felt like a lifetime.

Yan Feng looked at the name engraved on the tombstone, his knees buckling, and knelt on the ground with a thud, bowing his head, repenting for his sins.

The wind blew, a bit chilly, the thin fabric couldn't block it, and it all brushed against him.

Gradually, he became a statue, standing guard by her side.

Until dusk fell, until the shadows lengthened.

A few others who came to pay their respects passed by him, not as sorrowful, just muttering among themselves.

Their words happened to reach his ears.

"Hey, technology is really advanced now, these fake flowers look just like real ones."

"Right? If fake ones are made well, there's no difference from real ones, and you don't have to spend a lot of money or worry about them rotting and making the person inside angry."

"But can fake flowers replace real ones?"

"Well, it's better than letting the dead watch them rot. Besides, many people don't want to use real flowers for offerings. Flowers are so beautiful, they should grow in the ground, have their own life. If they're picked, they'll die soon..."

The discussion drifted away, but the man suddenly lifted his head, as if he had realized something.

He stood up abruptly, but his legs, numb from kneeling too long, almost caused him to fall.

With insufficient blood flow to his brain, in a daze, he seemed to see Bai Xi's shadow.

Still in that blue and white dress, still so gentle and beautiful, still nodding at him, as if affirming his current actions, as if doting on him.

Yan Feng steadied himself, suddenly realizing that his elongated shadow just happened to cover the tombstone before him, looking like the little boy who used to hide behind his sister.

And now, the roles had reversed, he was the one sheltering from the wind and rain, yet the one seeking refuge was still the young girl.

He suddenly laughed, deliberately showing his two front teeth, childish and awkward.

But she liked it.

As his figure left, a breeze blew, scattering the rose petals placed beside him, with one landing right in front of her.

The same attachment, never changing.