12 Dwelling on the Pas (2/2)

”Whatever makes him happy.” She sighed before closing her eyes once more.

Wen Jian nodded, as he sat solemnly in the carriage, sitting opposite of madam Lin. He too closed his eyes and went into meditation.

After some time, he heard the madam's voice full of warmth ”Ah Jian, do you miss your family?”

”No. They probably have less of a burden now that I'm gone.”

”How could you say that, all parents no matter rich or poor will love their children, it is an instinct even all creatures have.”

”It doesn't matter now, I have been gone for twenty years, they probably forgot I existed.”

”I know you don't think that, if you did you would have thrown away that jade, and yet you still keep it with you.”

Wen Jian immediately touched that small piece if amber colored jade that hung around his neck by a leather string. He gave a slight smile. ”Madam, what do you wish to tell me?”

”Some of your family are living near Qing Cheng.” Madam Lin said as she handed him a small bamboo tube. It was the ones that were used to hold important messages, they would hold information, and was used to carry intelligence.

”Thank you, madam.” The man bows as he puts the bamboo tube away.

Ruan Wang Fu

In a small remote courtyard, there was a man sitting, he was only in his forties, yet he had a head of hair that was almost fully white, pinned up by a simple wooden stick, making him look like an old man, he was dressed in dark colored brocade robes that seemed to meld in with the darkness. If madam Lin saw this man, she would recognize him as Ruan Wang, as for the room, she would be surprised to see that not a thing in her room had been moved since she was gone.

The old man was sitting in a room, dimly lit by a single candle. On the table, one could see a scroll, it was a portrait. The portrait of a young woman with ordinary features, but her eyes were as bright as the stars shining in the sky. He stared at the woman in the painting, as he toasted her a cup of wine and downed the drink himself, his eyes were full of sorrow, as he looked upon the painting. It was all he had left of her, it kept him from forgetting what she looked like. The painting looked like a younger version of Madam Lin, a painting from a time of youth and innocence.

”You said you would haunt me even as a spirit. Why aren't you here as promised? Why won't you even meet me in my dreams?” The man's hoarse voice said as he stared into the bright eyes of the woman who seemed to be unaffected by time, perfectly preserved in the lifelike portrait.

The room itself was quite unenthusiastic, with not much decor, the only things that stood out was a bunch of paintings and handmade knickknacks, there was also a bamboo parasol, with a red leaf drawn on its oil paper. It was a large detailed leaf, full of meticulous lines, that showed every single one of its veins, all painted in red, a contrast to its plain white background.