I have loved him for ten years, but I am only worthy of being her shadow. The first time I saw him, I was being chased and pushed into a fire pit. He rescued me from the traffickers, took off his coat and put it on my shoulders, and said warmly: "Girl, you are free." From that moment on, I knew that I was destined to follow him for the rest of my life. Not because of repayment, but because - he was the first person who didn't want anything from me and just wanted me to live. I followed him around, trying to find someone with him. I've been looking for it for ten years. His temples turned completely white overnight at Anqing Ferry one year. Because someone told him that his wife had appeared there. He chased you for three days and three nights, but it was not you who he chased. He squatted on the dock all night. When I found him the next day, his temples were completely white. He never cried when he drank. When I'm awake I don't shed a single tear. Only drunk, lying alone on the inn bed, shouting "Die'er, Die'er, where are you, where are you", tears flowing from the corners of the eyes into the pillow. I wiped it for him. He never knew. He bought the house in the south of the city. The yard is filled with gardenias, the swing is set up, and the children's room is decorated. He goes there every year, sitting alone in the empty yard and staring at the gardenia tree in a daze. The flowers bloom and then fade, and then bloom again. You never came back. Later, he finally found her. She stood in the pavilion, wearing a simple and elegant kimono, her eyebrows were as cold as frost, like someone walking out of a painting. I stood outside the pavilion and suddenly felt that I was very, very small - like a grass on the roadside. I looked up and saw a flower blooming in the sky. I was illiterate, my hands were covered with calluses from washing and cooking, and I was wearing coarse clothes that had turned white from washing. And on her, even the folds on her cuffs are beautiful. No wonder. No wonder he missed her for so many years. That day, he knelt in front of the Yang Mansion all day long, exchanging all his family property for betrothal gifts, and just wanted to beg her to come back. She refused. She said to him in unfamiliar Japanese - "Sir, you have the wrong person." When he walked out, the light in his eyes went out. He walked past me without even seeing me. She was always the only one in his eyes. I rushed into the pavilion, knelt in front of her, and told her every word of the suffering he had suffered over the years while crying. His search, his yearning, his drunkenness, his insomnia, his gray hair. I don't want anything else but to ask her to come back - as long as she is willing to come back, I can leave. I can disappear completely. She just stood there, looking at me expressionlessly. Finally, she said something coldly in that unfamiliar tone - "If you love him, stay by his side and warm him. Sooner or later, he will feel your love and accept you." Then she turned around and walked away step by step. I know she is not heartless. In her sleeves, the blood from her fingernails had stained the lining red. Like me, she is using the coldest expression to hide the most painful heart. Later he finally married me. On the wedding day, he drank a lot of wine and became unconscious. I helped him back to the room, and he leaned on my shoulder and shouted her name. A year later I gave birth to my daughter, and he named her Niandie. Zhang Zhiming's daughter, Zhang Niandie. It dawned on me at that moment. In this life, in his heart, I will always be just a shadow of her. Niandie, Niandie. If you keep thinking about it, there will be no response. Until his death, he carried the silver butterfly hairpin she left in his arms. I stood in front of his grave without crying. I just put another hairpin, the one she last wore on her head, with his. "You are finally reunited." I said, "She has been waiting for you all her life, and you have been waiting for her all her life. Don't miss it in the next life." And that exquisite crystal ball - the only hand-picked gift he gave her - I quietly put it into my daughter's swaddling clothes. Let Niandie grow up with it. It is the only tenderness left in her father's life.
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