Xu Jiamu personally chose the photo for the tombstone. It was taken by Xu Wanli when they were on their honeymoon.
In the photo, Han Ruchu had on a dazzling smile, her face emitting vigor and confidence.
In Xu Jiamu's memory, his mother had never smiled like that. In front of him, she was always caring and motherly. When she was with Xu Wanli, they were always a loving couple, but behind close doors, they were strangers that didn't meddle in each other's business.
When Xu Jiamu received the call informing him about her suicide, he was on the brink of collapse. Even while he was driving, all he could think about was the previous night when she was finally willing to speak to him. At that time, he told her that he would wait for her to come out... Why would she kill herself?
But when her body was finally cremated, he felt unusually calm.
His mother had indeed forgiven him but she didn't want to live anymore.
She told him, "Jiamu, take good care of yourself." At that time, she must have already come to the decision.
Maybe when she said that, she had already regretting how she'd led her life to this tragedy. But it was all too late, she could no longer turn back after spending her entire life in hatred. When she was suddenly asked to put down the hate, she was probably confused as to how to continue, choosing the easy way out.
Death was able to rid her off her torment.
What about her? She was finally able to free herself.
Xu Jiamu understood that to Han Ruchu, death was much better than living. .
When she was alive, the immense amount of hatred and sorrow she felt had driven her to become a demon.
When she was finally buried, Xu Jiamu could no longer hold it in. He knelt in front of the tombstone, tears streaming down his face.
Regardless of her misdoings, she was after all his mother. She was the one who had suffered in pregnancy for ten long months and had brought him up giving him all the best.
In her entire life, even if she never treated others sincerely, he couldn't deny that she had treated him wholeheartedly.
After Xu Jiamu and Song Xiangsi left, it was already 5 am the next morning. From the dark skies, there was a tiny drizzle.
Now that it was still early spring, the night rain had them trembling in cold. Xu Jiamu removed his jacket, placing it on Song Xiangsi's shoulders. He took her hand and they carefully tread down the wet staircase.
They didn't talk, silently taking in each other's presence. Sometimes, a silent companion could triumph over a thousand words.
It was 11 am when they returned to the city, the skies already bright. While Xu Jiamu bathed, Song Xiangsi headed downstairs to grab breakfast.
When she returned, she laid the breakfast on the table. Walking over to the dishwasher, she grabbed a few plates over. Just as she was about to put them down, the bedroom door open. Xu Jiamu held up her phone with soaking wet hair. "Phone."
It was ringing repeatedly.
Song Xiangsi reached over for the phone. After glancing at the screen, she answered the call.
"Xiangsi, what time will you be in the hospital?"
She instinctively turned to glance at Xu Jiamu—he was using a towel to dry his hair. "I'm a little busy now, can I contact you in a few days?"