Jade Cold Brocade

My name is Jinse. This name was given by my mother. 𬩽 Is the man's last name, and Jinse was her best song when she was young. She died in the winter when I was seven years old. Before she died, she put a piece of jade into my hand and said: Keep it away so no one can see it. That piece of jade was mutton-fat white, with a dragon pattern and the character 𬩽 engraved on it. It has followed me all my life, from Suzhou to Nanjing, from Nanjing to Shanghai, and from Shanghai to Guangzhou, Hong Kong, Hainan Island, Guangxi, and Yunnan. I have traveled thousands of miles to escape, dodged Japanese gunfire, and seen countless lives and deaths. I have met many people in my life. My mother, Shen Wanjun, has been waiting for a man for ten years, and she died without waiting for him. My father, Wangting, had been hiding in a foreign country for fifteen years. When he came back, his daughter no longer recognized him. Xiao Jinghuan wandered in Japan for fifteen years, and when he came back, his sweetheart was already married. Duan Yunhe, the governor of Jiangbei, wrote fourteen letters to me. The last one only had three words: Jinse, I... And those seven people, the enemies who killed my mother. I didn't kill them, I just asked them to go to the mass graves in Suzhou every Qingming Festival and kneel in front of my mother's grave, burn paper and kowtow for twenty years. They went. Twenty years. Passed down from generation to generation. I lived to be ninety-three years old and lived alone by the Tonglu River. There is an osmanthus tree in the yard, which blooms every autumn and is very fragrant. Those fourteen letters were later scattered in the sea of ​​Hong Kong. I remember those three words in my heart. The piece of jade was finally buried under the sweet-scented osmanthus tree. In my life, I have waited, hated, killed, and let go. In the end, I was left alone, guarding that river, that tree, and those memories. Worth it.