Just a few days after I put on my spring clothes in the provincial capital, my grandmother Shen's family letter arrived.
The letter was sent by Wu's mother herself. This old man, who had been serving Mr. Shen for thirty years, was dressed like a dusty servant, but there was an unbreakable gloom locked between his brows. She didn't even accept the tea from Fu Yuheng. Instead, she handed a thin letter to him in a hoarse voice: "Master, Madam, please come back quickly."
Fu Yuheng opened the letter. The familiar agarwood fragrance that my grandmother used to use was actually mixed with a very light, rust-like smell. The handwriting on the letterhead belongs to Shen, but it has lost its former calmness and order. The writing is sloppy and the ink is fast. Between the lines, he only repeatedly emphasized that "it is related to the foundation of the Fu family, and he will return as soon as he sees the letter", but the specific reasons were kept secret.
Fu Yuheng twirled the letter paper between his fingers, with a careless, slightly boyish smile on his lips: "Grandma loves to make a fuss out of molehills." He threw the letter paper on the desk and glanced at the freshly green sycamores outside the window, but his thoughts were a little far away.
Counting the days, I haven't gone back for some time.
He seemed to miss his sister a little.
With a slight sour taste on the tip of his tongue, Fu Yuheng picked up a preserved green plum from the porcelain plate on the desk and put it into his mouth. This was prepared by his sister for him. It had been soaked in honey. It had a refreshing sour taste at first. After chewing it carefully, strands of sweetness came over and lingered between the teeth and cheeks. It smells... A bit like hers.
It doesn't hurt to go back. He thought idly.
It just so happened that he hadn't tasted "Sister" for a long time.
Intention: Love is not about possession and control, but respect and fulfillment. Real strength is not to tame others, but to control yourself.