The Belated Ceremony

As soon as the morning light filtered through the window, Tang Wulin and Na'er were already sitting on the edge of the bed.

The two small beds stood side by side against the wall. The sunlight outside had not yet fully spread, casting only a thin patch of brightness across the floor. Na'er's feet dangled in midair, swaying as she tilted her head closer to Tang Wulin. Lowering her voice as if sharing a secret, she asked, "Brother, what do you want Na'er to do?"

Tang Wulin lowered his voice as well. "Go with Mom to buy new clothes today and make her happy. I'll stay home and help Dad set things up."

"Set things up?" Na'er's eyes lit up. "Is it a surprise for Mom?"

"Yes."

Na'er nodded hard after hearing that, as though she had been entrusted with an important mission. Then she leaned closer still. "Then Na'er wants new clothes. Pretty ones, with lace."

"Okay."

"And delicious food."

"Okay."

"Remember, Mom has to come home wearing her new clothes."

"Okay."

"Then it's settled." She held out her little finger. Tang Wulin looked at it and held out his own, hooking it with hers.

The Golden Dragon King's voice sounded in his mind. "Is this avatar an idiot? Why does he agree to everything?" There was a note of bafflement in his tone. Tang Wulin paused and sank into the Sea of Spirit. "What do you mean—" Before he could finish, a force shoved him back out. He sighed inwardly and did not sink back in. Rising to his feet, he headed for the door. "Now that it's come to this, let's eat first."

The kitchen was brighter than the bedroom. Lang Yue had already laid out breakfast, with the bowls and chopsticks arranged neatly and a small dish of pickles beside each bowl of porridge.

The bowl of porridge in front of Tang Wulin was deeper and more generously filled than the others. When he sat down, the rim was still hot, and steam rushed against his face, carrying the fragrance of rice and chopped scallions. Tang Ziran sat at the table as morning light slanted through the window, casting a long, narrow shadow along the edge of the newspaper in his hand. He turned a page as if he were reading something, though he was not truly looking at it.

After taking two mouthfuls of porridge, Tang Wulin set down his bowl and said naturally, "Dad, I want to visit Teacher Mang Tian today, but I haven't been there in a long time, so take me with you. Let Mom take Na'er out to look around. She hasn't bought new clothes in ages."

Lang Yue paused mid-motion as she picked up some food, her chopsticks hanging in the air for a moment before lowering. She said nothing and merely turned to glance at Tang Ziran.

Tang Ziran lifted his eyes above the newspaper, his gaze resting briefly on Tang Wulin's face before dropping back to the page. "Fine." Then he added in the same calm tone, as if confirming something that needed no discussion, "Then you take Mom and Na'er out to buy some things. Tang Tang and I will go to the workshop." Lang Yue's gaze lingered on Tang Wulin's face as though searching for something, but she found nothing. She merely nodded. "Then come back for lunch."

After clearing the dishes, Lang Yue took Na'er's hand and left the house. Tang Wulin stood in the courtyard and watched them walk out of the alley. Na'er looked back toward the courtyard once, her skirt lifting in the morning breeze before falling again. Then she turned back and continued on. The sound of their footsteps at the mouth of the alley gradually faded, and the shadows on the wall disappeared as though the sunlight were swallowing them inch by inch.

The courtyard fell quiet. Wind passed through the empty clothes hangers on the line, raising a faint clinking of metal. Tang Ziran stood by the kitchen door with his head lowered, rolling up his sleeves. There was a pale mark on the back of his neck, like a trace left by the sun, the skin there lighter than elsewhere. After rolling up his sleeves, he looked up at Tang Wulin as though waiting for him to say something.

Tang Wulin walked over to him. "Dad, come with me first." He went inside and took a flat box from his Storage Soul Tool, opening it and setting it on the table. Inside lay a silver ring, free of unnecessary decoration, its edges polished smooth. A line of tiny words was faintly engraved around its inner band: Tang Ziran and Lang Yue's names, connected by a slender line like two endpoints gently drawn together.

Beside it lay a dark suit, folded neatly. The fabric carried a soft sheen beneath the morning light.

Tang Ziran stood by the table, looking down at the ring. He stared at it for a long time, long enough for the morning light to shift from the corner of the table to its center, leaving a patch of warmth on the back of his lowered hand. His Adam's apple moved once. Then he reached out, lightly touched the edge of the ring, and drew his hand back.

He closed the box and set it back on the table, his voice lower than before. "Thank you."

He had never imagined that one of the few shining moments in his life would be given to him by his teenage son.

Tang Wulin said nothing more. He turned toward the living room and began moving the table.

The table had stood against the wall for so long that moving it revealed a pale mark on the floor, like a small patch of its original color finally exposed after years of being covered. He removed the tablecloth, folded it, and set it on a chair, then spread the newly bought tablecloth over the table. He smoothed down the corners and ran his palm along the edges.

Tang Ziran dug an old bundle of ribbons out from the corner of the storage room. When he untied it, dust sprang into his face. He sneezed and staggered half a step back, wiping his face with the back of his hand, but he did not put down the ribbons.

Tang Wulin walked over and pulled him up, brushing the dust from his shoulders before taking out the tie from the box and handing it to him. Tang Ziran glanced down at its color when he accepted it, rubbed the edge between his fingertips, then slowly tied it on. The living room lights came on amid their work, dim and yellow, falling across the freshly laid tablecloth and newly hung ribbons, making the whole room feel warmer than usual.

By evening, twilight began seeping in from the horizon, stretching the old locust tree's shadow halfway up the courtyard wall. The light in the courtyard softened, as though something were slowly turning it down. Tang Wulin hung up the last ribbon, stepped back to inspect it, then moved forward again to adjust a crooked corner.

Tang Ziran stood behind him, already dressed in the dark suit. Its fabric was thicker than the ordinary clothes they usually wore, folding into a soft dark gleam beneath the dusk. His tie was a little tight. Tilting his head, he adjusted his collar, pressing and releasing the knot with his fingers as though he had not worn such clothing in a long time. He lowered his eyes to look at the back of his hand, then raised them again.

Footsteps sounded outside, light and quick, followed by Na'er's laughter filtering through the door, carrying the breathless sound of someone who had just run a distance.

The moment the door opened, Na'er rushed in first, carrying many bags. As she entered, the air by the doorframe caught her skirt, making it flutter up before falling again. Lang Yue followed her inside. "We were so lucky today. The shopkeeper said we were lucky customers and gave us a discount. And this white dress too." She lifted the hem of her skirt. "The shopkeeper said that if I wore it out on the street to advertise for them, it would count as payment."

Only then did she notice...

Everything in the house had changed from before they left. The table had been moved, the tablecloth was a new color, and a row of tiny decorations had appeared along the window. Twilight streamed in through the window, swaying gently over the newly hung ribbons.

Her gaze moved from the tablecloth to the window, from the ribbons to the candlestick at the corner of the table, and finally settled on Tang Ziran. He stood by the table with his back straighter than usual, his tie pulled so tight that even the line of his jaw seemed drawn taut. It was as though something inside him were slowly rising, lifting little by little the things that had once weighed him down. His Adam's apple moved, and then he stepped forward, stopping before her.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He took another step forward and knelt on one knee upon the floor lit by both lamplight and twilight. The fingers holding the ring had turned pale from the force of his grip, and the silver edge flashed once in the dusk.

His lips trembled, as though the words had reached his throat only to become stuck there. His eyes reddened first, and then two clear tears slid from the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, down the curve of his cheekbones. They paused briefly at the edge of his jaw before falling.

Lang Yue stood frozen for a moment. Then she crouched down and wrapped her arms around him. Her arms went around his shoulders, her palm resting against his back through the fabric of the new suit, as if she were feeling its warmth and solidity. "Making such a fool of yourself in front of the children," she said, her voice thick and trembling. "Why are you crying?"

Outside the window, wind passed through the branches and leaves of the old locust tree, making a soft rustling sound that slowly filled the brief silence in the room. Twilight spilled in from the windowsill, laying a layer of warm yellow light across the floor and gathering the outlines of the two of them together.

Na'er stood by the door, the hem of her new dress stirred gently by the wind. Her gaze rested on the two figures crouched on the floor, embracing each other. Then, in the twilight, she turned her head to glance at Tang Wulin by the window. The shadow of his clothes stretched long, overlapping with the shadow of the potted green plant on the sill.

She did not make a sound. She only whispered silently in her heart, This is so nice. If only it could always stay like this... She did not finish the thought. Like a coin carefully put away, it was returned to the depths of her pocket.

The wind passed through the branches and leaves of the old locust tree, seeping in through the crack in the window and gently stirring the newly hung ribbons, as though something were slowly catching the words she had left unspoken, then carrying them onward, onward into the distant twilight.