Oblivion

Early in the morning, Ye Shuang took Bai Yuyou home, but before they left, Chen's Mother stopped them and asked a few questions. Though it was a bit odd why she was asking, Ye Shuang still shared everything he knew.

"Remember to come by next time. Auntie will make soup for you," Chen's Mother said with a smile.

"Got it."

"Qin is really something—still sleeping in."

"Auntie, she just returned from abroad. Let her rest for now," Ye Shuang replied with a chuckle. "I’ll visit again another day."

"You sweet talker, saying things like that will make me upset," Chen's Mother teased before turning to Bai Yuyou. "Little Bai, remember to come by and play next time."

Bai Yuyou gave a slight nod.

After saying their goodbyes, Ye Shuang led Bai Yuyou to the car.

The morning air was fresh after last night’s light rain. Ye Shuang cracked the window open slightly, letting in a cool breeze.

It felt like an embrace from the wind—fleeting, disappearing without a trace before he could react.

Perhaps lost in thought, Ye Shuang’s expression grew somber, his breathing heavier.

Suddenly, he spoke to the girl beside him. "Yuyou, after we get back, stay at home. I need to go out for a bit."

Bai Yuyou tilted her head. "Ye Shuang, where?"

"..." He hesitated for a few seconds before forcing a smile. "Somewhere I don’t even want to go myself."

"I want to come..."

Ye Shuang asked, "It might be boring, you know?"

But the girl shook her head. "As long as I’m with Ye Shuang... I don’t mind."

Ye Shuang said nothing more.

After about an hour’s drive, Ye Shuang parked in a square. Once out of the car, he led Bai Yuyou straight into a flower shop.

The scent of flowers filled the air—similar to Bai Yuyou’s own fragrance, but richer. The shopkeeper, a young woman, quickly noticed them and eagerly approached.

"We just got fresh roses in. They’re lovely."

Ye Shuang glanced around before saying, "I need flowers to visit a departed loved one."

The shopkeeper paused, then smiled. "Chrysanthemums, perhaps? White ones symbolize remembrance and mourning, often paired with yellow ones for tribute. Most customers choose this combination."

Ye Shuang nodded. "That’ll do."

"Alright, that’ll be thirty."

After paying, Ye Shuang took the bouquet. Bai Yuyou watched him hold the flowers, vaguely understanding the mention of a "departed loved one" but not fully grasping its weight.

Next, Ye Shuang drove them to a cemetery.

After checking in, they walked past rows of gravestones and low shrubs lining the gentle slope. The scenery was beautiful, yet an unspoken stillness hung in the air, as if even the breeze carried a heaviness.

Silent, Ye Shuang led Bai Yuyou uphill until they stopped before a tombstone.

A familiar black-and-white photo stood stark against the dark stone. Ye Shuang carefully placed the chrysanthemums in front, then sat down, quietly gazing at it.

Bai Yuyou stood behind him, curiously studying the photo on the tombstone.

Last night, drunk, Ye Shuang had dreamed of his parents. If possible, he wished that dream could have lasted longer.

"I wasn’t close to my parents," Ye Shuang began softly.

"I hated my mom’s nagging—always worrying if I worked too hard, if I ate poorly, if I skipped meals or stayed up late..."

"I took her care for granted, like it was owed to me. Even as an adult, she still saw me as a child..."

"She always told me not to chase money at the cost of my health, that well-being mattered most. I’d brush her off, annoyed..."

"She was always thinking of me... as if even the city I lived in worried her..."

"And I hated my dad’s stubbornness—his silent strength, the way he shouldered everything alone..."

"How he’d insist he was fine even when hurt, calling it nothing..."

"But by the time I realized it, they’d already grown old..."

"Wrinkles at their eyes, fretting over gray hairs, dyeing them..."

"I remember helping my mom dye hers once. She wondered aloud what I’d look like with white hair, then sighed, saying she wouldn’t live to see it..."

"When they died in that accident—because of me—I finally understood the saying: 'A child’s regret comes too late.'"

"I always accepted their love without thought, yet I was too ashamed to tell them how I felt... And by the time I wanted to, I’d already lost the two people who loved me most."

"..."

Ye Shuang murmured, "I failed as a son..."

He spoke for a long time, while Bai Yuyou listened quietly. She didn’t fully grasp the complexity of his emotions, but she embraced them all the same.

Sitting there, the vast cemetery made them seem small.

When Ye Shuang finally came back to himself, he realized two hours had passed—and Bai Yuyou had stayed by his side, wordless.

"Was it boring, coming here?" He steadied his voice and smiled.

Bai Yuyou shook her head. "Not at all."

As she sat beside him, watching his slightly gaunt profile, it struck her—even he had his fragile side.

"Hug?" She suddenly spread her arms. "Can... recharge you..."

Ye Shuang pulled her into his embrace instead. Her soft warmth soothed him, and as he closed his eyes, his heart settled.

It really did recharge him.

"Ye Shuang."

"Yeah?"

"So... is death the end for everyone?" Bai Yuyou asked abruptly.

Ye Shuang paused, then replied gently, "Death isn’t the end. Life and death aren’t opposites—death is just part of life’s continuation."

The girl tilted her head, half-understanding. "Then what is the end?"

Ye Shuang thought for a moment before smiling. "Being forgotten, maybe. That’s scarier than death. When the world holds no trace of you, and no one remembers you... it’s like you never existed."

Bai Yuyou suddenly stepped in front of the tombstone, scrutinizing it carefully.

"What’s wrong?"

She answered earnestly, "I’m memorizing your parents’ names... so the world has one more person who remembers them."

Ye Shuang stood frozen for several seconds before smiling tenderly.

"Silly."

A breeze swept through, lifting Bai Yuyou’s hair—like an embrace that lingered, long and quiet.