Halfway up Lake Mountain, Bingzhou.
A winding path led uphill here. With no visitors for years, Shitai Street had become covered in moss.
Before a gravestone, Su Mulin had just laid down the lilacs in his hands.
A light rain pattered down, showing signs of growing heavier. Su Mulin paid it no mind. Together with the wild wind, the rain knocked blossoms from a peach tree beside the grave, and a few petals landed on the gravestone.
Su Mulin reached out a trembling hand and carefully traced the words on the gravestone, his eyes filled with tenderness.
"Qianqian, I'm back."
The words had barely left his mouth before his voice began to tremble. A scalding tear slid down his cheek and finally fell into a cold little puddle on the ground.
Su Mulin stroked the gravestone gently, as though caressing the person he loved.
"Qianqian, did you know? Our Xiaohan is in high school now. She's grown into such a beautiful young lady."
"Xiaohan stayed at her grandmother's house this New Year. Your mother is in very good health. She couldn't help crying when she saw her granddaughter."
"Xiaohan and I miss you every moment. We're always thinking of you. That girl is so considerate now. When she was little, she would cry and shout that she wanted to see her mother. Now that she's older, she doesn't cry or make a fuss anymore, but she has never forgotten you."
The light Qingming rain was like the cold, wild wind; his gentle words were like a softly trickling stream.
Su Mulin's voice grew quieter and quieter, his shoulders shaking harder and harder. This man who was strong before others, this mature public servant, this dependable father, finally revealed his most vulnerable side here.
"Qianqian, I miss you so much."
Su