''Good morning," Zhan greeted his parents as he entered the dining room. He took a chair and settled himself across from his father, reaching for the coffee. "Whose letter are you reading, Dad?" Fengmian was holding a letter, and his face reflected a serious mood.
"China, this comes from the lawyer of your grand uncle, Wei Wuxian."
He frowned thoughtfully. His father is referring to his granduncle, Wei Wuzxian, who is the second cousin of his grandmother, the late mother of his father. Wei Wuxian was more than ten years older than Fengmian's mother. Throughout his life, he could count on his fingers the number of times he met the old man.
Wei Wuxian was already very old, in his early nineties, when Zhan last saw him. And that was eight years ago when his Grandma died.
Wei Wuxian is there with them during his grandmother's wake, and he is accompanied by his two nurses. A very eccentric old man. One of the reasons Fengmian refrains from visiting him frequently is because of his irritation, as he claims that he is in good health and will not be dying anytime soon. Wei Wuxian treated him tenderly. According to his dad, Wei Wuxian was there at the hospital when Zhan was born and strongly suggested that he be called 'Xian.' In line with his name...
Ziyuan expressed her objections strongly. Nevertheless, the old man was unwavering, and Fengmian's mother pleaded with Ziyuan.
Ziyuan consented. But not exactly what the old man suggested. He was named Xiao Sean Zhan. Growing up, during the rare occasions they visited the old man's home, Wei Wuxian frequently pointed out to Zhan that he resembled the old man in his youth.
To prove to Zhan what he was saying, the old man showed him an old photo album containing images of himself from the past. The photographs were black-and-white. Creased and faded. And although the young Zhan saw that Wei Wuxian was handsomely beautiful in his youth, he could not see the resemblance between them.
He turned his face up to his father. "What about him, Dad?"
"He died a week ago," Fengmian replied softly. Then raised a guilty face to his wife. "I should have been there."
"Don't blame yourself," said Ziyuan as she settled into her chair on the right side of the tab. "From my understanding of Uncle Wuxian, he didn't want us to be there and witness whatever he was experiencing. He preferred to be with his nurses."
An overwhelming sense of sadness washed over Zhan. Somehow, he knew that his father's old uncle loved him.
"When I die, Xian," Wei Wuxian said, refusing to use the name 'Zhan. ' They were on the balcony, where the elderly sat in an aged rocking chair. "...I leave you this house." Wei Wuxian looked around the entire structure of the house, memories reflected in his misty gaze.
"This house is imbued with a wealth of lovely and sorrowful memories, Xian. That's why my husband cannot force me to leave and sell this."
Zhan was very young, only thirteen, and he could not fully understand the old man's words. What would a boy like him do with an old house?
"The time now is different, Xian," Wei Wuxian continued. "A lot of money is needed to live and get treatment. And I have nothing to give to you except for this house."
"Don't worry about me, Grand Uncle. Use the money for your treatment..."
"If it were solely up to me, I've been longing for some rest for quite a while now, Xian."
Zhan couldn't quite tell if there's tears welling up in the old man's eyes.
The old man sighed and looked at him again. "Do you know Zhan, not a single day has passed in my life without thoughts of him? And when Wangyin passed away, I couldn't help but hope he would come back, believing that now I am finally free, and our love could finally be fulfilled..."
