Cheng Dong followed Cheng Ying’s gaze toward what was inside the doorway; it did look quite awkward. Who keeps such things in their front yard for no good reason? But then again, wasn't this household special? It wasn't as if one could simply choose not to look.

He then looked at the girl, her weeping so heartbreaking it made him ache. He spoke to comfort her, “Ah, there’s nothing to be done about it. Everyone goes through this. While Grandma was alive, you didn’t feel the loss too keenly. That thing is just an object. Aren't the children already grown? Go inside quickly.” The villagers were simple folk; when they offered comfort, they meant it, without all the frivolous pretense.

Cheng Ying snuffled a breath, and saying the truth—just that one simple action—completely stripped away any composure she might have had. It made Cheng Dong grimace. Good heavens, was this what city girls were like? Even village girls didn't snuffle like that.

It was a stroke of luck that such a handsome fellow as Wu Zi would fancy their girl. Truly, that was Cheng Dong’s honest assessment.

It just proved that rumors couldn't be trusted; one had to see things firsthand. This girl was even worse than she had been before.

To be honest, Cheng Ying had left a truly poor impression on Cheng Dong. Just for the way she could scold his mother so thoroughly that she retreated to stew in her own temper, Cheng Dong considered the girl no good. He must have been mistaken just now to think she looked pitiful in her sorrow.

Cheng Ying had no idea that the way she sniffled was so evocative of bygone days; it was actually quite down-to-earth. “Brother Dongzi, thank you for coming to help. I’ll go in first.”

Those polite words had to be said; the man had genuinely come to lend a hand. Cheng Dong waved a hand dismissively. “No need to be so formal between neighbors.” He then scratched his head. Cheng Ying’s face really did look rather unsightly at the moment.

Chi Wu emerged just as he heard those two sentences. Seeing Cheng Dong lingering by the door with his wife, Chi Wu felt a wave of unease wash over him. No matter how tense the situation, Chi Wu’s sense of crisis never dropped, especially concerning Cheng Ying. He couldn't afford to be careless.

His wife was inherently swayed by looks, and Cheng Dong had a history with her. Back then, Cheng Ying had once washed his mess tin right in front of him. Chi Wu felt the profound malice emanating from the world itself.

While this wasn't the time for jealousy, Chi Wu simply couldn't suppress the two things that had long been his deep-seated taboos: one was Cheng Ying having washed that mess tin, and the other was Cheng Ying having sung.

How could he not be annoyed? His face was impossibly grim. You could say his entire family had died and he wouldn't look any worse. “Yingzi, Grandma is calling for you.”

Cheng Ying waved again. “I’m going in now.”

Cheng Dong thought that Chi Wu’s dark expression had nothing to do with him. Wasn’t someone in their family about to die? If they weren't scowling, it would be strange.

So Cheng Dong paid it no mind and followed them into the yard, bustling around. Chi Wu felt utterly dreadful. In the brief lulls amidst the chaos, he could always see Cheng Dong rushing back and forth. What was the man’s objective?

Chi Wu felt as if afflicted by a lingering ailment. If he hadn’t been angry with Cheng Ying, Chi Wu would have already taken his wife and left, allowing no gap for anyone else to slip into.

Originally, with the Old Matriarch holding sway in the house, Chi Wu felt his life was secure. Her single word carried more weight than half an hour of his own strenuous effort. His wife listened to the Old Matriarch.

Take their engagement, for instance—such a major event. Simply because of the Old Matriarch’s suppression, Cheng Ying agreed without a word of protest. Chi Wu had never let this thought go. He didn't need Cheng Ying to find fault; he himself was a constant source of worry.

But now that the Old Matriarch was gone, Chi Wu felt insecure. There were so many things to fret over now, and he had to start by worrying about the people closest to his wife.

If Cheng Ying knew what Chi Wu was thinking at this moment, she would surely ask him, Why don't you start worrying about the two children around me? You damned fool, can't you think along normal lines for once?

But for now, Cheng Ying was still being supported by Chi Wu, staying close to the Old Matriarch, talking with the elders.

After returning to the village, the Old Matriarch seemed to have a moment of clarity. “I must have been here before. This courtyard looks so familiar; why is this place so etched in my memory? I’ve seen it in my dreams.”

Others hearing this thought it was just the Old Matriarch missing home. Hadn't she lived here for most of her life?

Cheng Ying heard this and thought the Old Matriarch was so desperate to be with her, missing home so much that it manifested in her dreams. If not for being near the Old Matriarch, Cheng Ying would have cried until she couldn't see the sky.

It was Dry Auntie who explained to Yingzi, “The Old Lady is confused. Her memory was never very good; she only remembers things that left a deep impression. It must be this house, and it has nothing to do with anything else. Don't overthink it.”

Yang Zhi glanced at Dry Auntie, her eyes filled with gratitude. She could see her own daughter blaming herself, but she was too inarticulate to offer comfort. Thankfully, her sister-in-law was here.

Cheng Ying grasped the Old Matriarch’s withered hand. “If you like it here, we won’t leave anymore.”

The Old Matriarch was quite pleased, though she seemed slightly agitated, as she had been these past few days. Having woken up after such effort, she could only manage a few words before drifting off again. In the next moment, the Old Matriarch looked displeased. “Then what about my fish?”

Cheng Ying thought, You’ve forgotten your home, yet you still worry about fish. “We brought them all here for you.”

The Old Matriarch was satisfied but immediately made another demand. “You have to stay with me too, and my grandson can’t go to school.”

Cheng Ying nodded. “We’ll stay with you.” In the span of those few words, the Old Matriarch was exhausted and fell asleep again.

Cheng Ming performed another examination on the Old Matriarch. Afterward, he offered only one sentence: It’s quite good that she can be this lucid. This meant her current state was stable.

The entire room, including First Uncle, fell silent. Even in the hidden corners of the courtyard, one could hear stifled sobs. People were finding places to weep in private, trying not to let others hear.

First Uncle held the Old Matriarch and wept openly. She had finally returned, and hadn't spoken a word to him! This was his own mother. The grief was immense.

When Old Aunt arrived, she stood outside in the courtyard, sobbing silently for a long time before finally coming inside.

It was only upon seeing the coffin placed outside that she truly felt the crushing sorrow, utterly startled.

When the Old Matriarch finally woke again, though she didn't recognize anyone, her children remained by her side, speaking to her.

The Old Matriarch’s eyes seemed to look past her own daughter and son; she only spoke to Yingzi, Wuzi, and Mingzi.

You could see that after the First and Second Uncles had spoken to the Old Matriarch for a long time, she hadn't paid them any heed. Instead, she clutched Mingzi and Yingzi, asking to see her old hen.

First Uncle could not bear it. Even though he understood the situation fully, to pretend to be a filial descendant now, when she didn't even recognize him—didn't he feel a crushing sense of shame?

First Uncle could no longer hold back his tears, quickly stepping away to leave. He couldn't complain; he could only weep alone.

In the courtyard of the Cheng family’s Old Matriarch, a scene unfolded: the woman hadn't yet passed, but her two sons were already embracing the coffin and weeping. What they were crying for, perhaps only the two of them truly knew.

However, the two of them were relatively decent: whatever the Old Matriarch needed, they attended to personally. It didn't matter that the Old Matriarch didn't recognize them; as long as their intentions were clear, that was enough.

Old Aunt sat beside the Old Matriarch. When the Old Matriarch woke, she spoke a few words to her. When the Old Matriarch slept, Old Aunt wept.

The atmosphere in the household grew heavier day by day. The Old Matriarch slept for twenty hours a day. The remaining four hours were spent in confusion.

Cheng Ying was almost too exhausted to cry anymore. Sometimes she wished the Old Matriarch could just stay asleep; it seemed more comfortable for her.

She couldn't bear to watch the Old Matriarch wake up tiredly just to play with her—truly, to play with Cheng Ying.

Later, as more and more people gathered around the Old Matriarch, she seemed to grasp the situation. She took out the golden egg she never let leave her pocket and gave it to her great-granddaughter. “This is for Lele, just for Lele.”

Cheng Ying took it and tucked it away for the child. The Old Matriarch then handed the prized hen, which she was reluctant to let go of, to Cheng Ying. “This is for the boy. I don’t have two golden eggs anymore; this one still laid eggs this year. Give it to the boy this year, do you remember?”

Cheng Ying heard this as if it were a last will and testament and clutched the Old Matriarch’s hand, afraid to let go. Chi Wu said, “Grandma, I know. I won’t be biased; I won’t give it to anyone else.”

Later, Cheng Ming gently pried Cheng Ying’s hand open and told her the Old Matriarch was just asleep.

After five or six days, the Old Matriarch slept through an entire day without waking up, perhaps for the last time.

Cheng Ming estimated that either she wouldn't wake up, or if she did, it would only be for this one brief instance.

Cheng Ying held the Old Matriarch even tighter, refusing to let go. Old Aunt wailed nearby.

The Old Matriarch eventually woke up one last time, clutching a piece of tiger skin. She handed the tiger's head, usually kept at the bottom of the chest, to Cheng Ying. “This is your dowry.”

The rest of the tiger’s body, the full hide, the Old Matriarch never let go of again.

That evening, Cheng Ming came to call people; the Old Matriarch had breathed her last.

Cheng Ying held her two children and kowtowed to the Old Matriarch, donning mourning attire. She seemed entirely lost. Although they had prepared for this day, its actual arrival was unbearably difficult to accept, truly hard to comprehend.

Chi Wu held his wife close and dared not let go; Yingzi’s emotional state was deeply alarming.

First Uncle, Second Uncle, and Chi Yong had already coordinated. They would split up to call the family relatives and arrange the Old Matriarch’s funeral rites.

Chi Wu saw that his wife’s condition wasn't sustainable, so he handed the two children over to Dry Auntie’s care. Yingzi hadn't left the Old Matriarch’s side anyway.

No words of comfort could penetrate her grief.

Chi Yong notified the Chi family elders to come and see the Old Matriarch off. Unexpectedly, accompanying the Chi elders were several of the Old Matriarch’s fellow opera enthusiasts from the park, as well as business associates of Cheng Ying and Chi Wu. They all knew the Old Matriarch was near her end, and knowing the proceedings would happen in the village rather than the city, they had come out of sincere respect, gathering around the Chi elders to inquire.

When Chi Yong saw this group of familiar and unfamiliar faces, he felt somewhat adrift. He finally pulled Chi Wu away from Yingzi. It was at this moment he remembered that Chi Wu had married into the family, and this responsibility fell to him.

When Chi Wu saw these people, he simply patted their shoulders. No other words were necessary; what mattered was that they remembered. It was better to have people showing face than those who didn't. “Everyone remembered, and traveled such a distance to come.”

They were all people of decorum. “President Chi, you carry on with your duties. We are here to see the Old Lady off; it’s the sentiment that counts.”

With that, they found places to stay on their own, requiring no hosting whatsoever.

First Auntie looked at this throng of people. The small cars from the village were lined up from her door all the way to the end of the village. She truly felt that the relatives she could invite from her side were insignificant and not worth showing off. Her boasting ceased immediately.