Chapter 363
Chapter 363 Comfort
As he wandered through the rear hills, he couldn’t locate the place where Xian'er had built a hut to watch over her mother’s grave. Doubts crept in, making him wonder if the old Emperor had deceived him. But then, from a distance on the hillside, a wisp of green smoke rose with the wind, clearly visible. A surge of joy filled his heart, and he quickened his pace, heading straight for the source of the smoke.
As he approached, about several dozen yards away, a vast bamboo grove came into view, lush and verdant. Young bamboo shoots were just beginning to sprout, displaying their vigor. Within the bamboo grove stood a small house made entirely of hollow bamboo – simple, yet cleverly constructed. He was reminded of a scene outside Hangzhou in Longquan village. Xian'er’s mother had a fondness for green bamboo; he was certain Xian'er was here.
Taking two steps forward, he softly called, “Xian'er, Xian'er...” The bamboo forest echoed his voice, silent and devoid of response.
Reaching the bamboo house, he gently pushed the bamboo door. It creaked softly, revealing an interior with a table, two chairs, and an embroidered bed. Beyond that, there was nothing else. The room was immaculately clean, free from any dust, and the air was infused with the rich scent of premium sandalwood. This elegant place, he thought, must have been specially prepared by Xian'er in memory of her mother. Lin Wanrong nodded in approval and looked around the room, but there was no sign of Xian'er.
The lingering scent in the room indicated someone lived here, but where had she gone? Exiting the house, he ventured deeper into the woods. After a short while, the delicate sound of flowing water reached his ears. Before him lay a clear, shallow stream, originating from higher up the mountain.
Following the stream uphill, the first thing to catch his eye was a green tomb covered in moss, nestled beside the stream and the bamboo grove. A woman, dressed entirely in white, knelt with her back to him. Her shoulders trembled lightly, as if she were crying. Beside her were the remnants of recently burned joss paper, still warm.
"Xian'er..." he called softly. The kneeling woman trembled at the sound and quickly turned to face him. A beautiful, serene face met his gaze: delicate eyebrows, clear eyes, and quivering lips. Tear tracks glistened on her cheeks. If it wasn't Xian'er, who else could it be?
"Husband..." Xian'er's voice, filled with anguish, called out and she threw herself into his arms, holding him tightly as she sobbed uncontrollably.