Peaches and Plums Don’t Speak – Chapter 139
by Little PandaWhere Her Heart Finds Peace (Part One)
After being busy with the funeral arrangements for several days, the entire family was utterly exhausted. Physical weariness was nothing; the sorrow in their hearts was what was truly unbearable.
The old residence seemed to empty out all at once.
Normally, the two elders didn’t come downstairs very often. They spent most of their time on the second floor reading books, watching television, chatting, and teasing their grandchildren. When the weather was pleasant, they would walk a bit farther out for a stroll. When Grandfather’s health was slightly better, he would tend to the flowers he had planted alongside the family driver.
When they were there, the old residence would be filled with the sound of their gentle voices speaking to the children, the sound of the piano, singing, and laughter…
As long as they were there, the children felt completely at peace.
Now, all of that was gone.
With the funeral over, the adults went back to work and the children returned to school. Everything was quiet and tinged with grief.
Before this, the children of the Yan family had an unspoken, unwritten rule: no matter how busy they were, they would always set aside one weekend a month to spend at the old residence and come back for a meal.
During the first week after the elders’ passing, Yan Yixi and Yan Yinan couldn’t manage to stay at the old residence at all. Both of them were working overtime at their respective units.
Yan Xi also went to work as usual. Anzhi simply couldn’t bring herself to feel at ease leaving her, so she didn’t dare rush back to America. She had no choice but to request a leave of absence from her advisor1 so she could stay and accompany her.
She went to work during the day and came home for dinner in the evening. She would talk and even smile with Anzhi, but she was noticeably much quieter.
Anzhi could sense that Yan Xi was putting up a front of being “fine” in front of her, probably because she didn’t want her to worry. Or perhaps Yan Xi still felt Anzhi was too young and wasn’t used to confiding in her, even though they were now lovers.
Anzhi knew in her heart that she couldn’t rush her.
Before heading out that day, Yan Xi patted her head and said, “Book your plane ticket today. You can’t let your studies fall behind.”
Anzhi smiled and said, “It’s fine, I’m doing great.” It was just a bit tough on the classmates in her research group, who had to video call her late at night to discuss things. She could review the lab reports on her own, but that wouldn’t be enough. Their team was on the verge of a breakthrough regarding material costs, and she likely wouldn’t be able to participate fully if she stayed like this.
Still, none of that was as important as Yan Xi.
She showed her dimples to Yan Xi and stuck out her tongue, playing cute on purpose, though she couldn’t guarantee it would work.
Please, don’t buy the ticket for me behind my back.
If Yan Xi set her mind to it, she might actually do just that.
Yan Xi gazed at her for a moment. Her eyes softened, and she stroked her cheek, murmuring, “Alright then. Stay for a few more days.”
In the middle of the night, Anzhi reached out and found the pillow beside her empty. Yan Xi wasn’t in bed. She hurriedly sat up.
There was no one in the second-floor living room.
After a brief thought, Anzhi went back to the bedroom to grab one of Yan Xi’s knit cardigans and quietly headed downstairs.
In the small side parlor on the first floor, she found her just as she had expected. Under the warm, dim light, Yan Xi’s slender fingers held a crystal goblet filled with a ruby-red liquid. Her delicate shoulders were trembling slightly.
Anzhi walked slowly over to her side. A picture frame sat on the side table.
It was the family portrait of their large household taken that day.
Only in the very first photo had everyone smiled properly with their white teeth showing. A second or two after that shot, the twins being held in their arms had started crying and fussing. Everyone had turned to look, some helping, some coaxing, and some laughing.
The sunlight really had been beautiful that day. The photographer had captured that exact moment, and the family’s happiness practically spilled out of the photo.
Anzhi’s eyes pricked with tears.
Yan Xi’s fingers gently traced the faces of Grandfather Yan and Grandmother Yan. The two elders were smiling with their usual warmth, gazing down at their juniors.
Anzhi draped the cardigan over her shoulders and pulled it snug around her.
From behind, Yan Xi reached up to grasp her hand and patted it.
Anzhi wrapped her arms around her neck, pressing her head close to her ear.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke, quietly soaking in this tender moment of intimacy.
Then, Anzhi softly said, “Yiyi…”
“Come here.” Yan Xi pulled her to the front and lifted her onto her lap. Anzhi was taken aback at first, her face flushing slightly. Just like when she was a child, Yan Xi would hold her in her arms whenever her mood was low. But now, it felt different. She buried her face against Yan Xi’s collarbone and took a deep breath.
“You smell so good,” she murmured, her breath like sweet orchids.
But it was Yan Xi who truly smelled wonderful, her breath laced with a hint of wine.
Anzhi’s cheeks grew even redder.
It was already late in the night, and the heating in the side parlor was a bit weak. She held Yan Xi tighter. “Yiyi, let’s go back and sleep, okay?”
“Mmh,” Yan Xi let out a soft hum. “Just let me hold you.”
Anzhi wanted to say she could hold her in bed too, but Yan Xi’s almost-spoiled gesture made her yield unconditionally. She let her have her way, mimicking her actions by gently stroking her hair.
“Taotao, I haven’t been good enough to you,” Yan Xi suddenly said.
Anzhi let out a puzzled “Mmh?” in inquiry.
“When you were little, I wasn’t good enough to you. You were so small, yet you had to face death all on your own with no one to lean on. And back then, I only cared about my work…”
“Yiyi,” Anzhi interrupted her in a rush. “That’s not true at all. You were so, so good to me. You brought me home. Even though you were so busy with work back then, everyone in the family doted on me.”
Grief welled up in Yan Xi’s heart. At her grandparents’ age, the passing of a relative was considered an auspicious funeral2, yet she still couldn’t bring herself to accept it. By comparison, Anzhi hadn’t even been six years old back then.
Anzhi knew what she was thinking. She offered gentle comfort, saying, “You’re the one who made me a part of this family. Everything I have today is because of you. You brought me to your side and let me love you.”
Her words were as warm as spring, carrying a deep and heavy devotion. Yan Xi breathed in the fragrance of her hair—the same scent as her own, yet it felt so unique on Anzhi.
Yan Xi stroked her cheek as tenderness washed over her.
She knew the kind of bond her grandparents had shared—one of companions and lovers. She had always chased after such a deep, affectionate love, but never before this very moment had she felt so clearly that this exact love was right beside her.
Once this realization sank deep into her mind, she couldn’t help but reflect on herself, feeling there were so many things she hadn’t done well.
“And before, I broke your heart…”
“Shh…” Anzhi lowered her head to kiss the crown of her hair, knowing that Yan Xi’s emotions were fragile right now.
“Then just treat me well from now on and dote on me more.” Anzhi kissed her again, her heart aching for her vulnerability in this moment.
“You still have me. I’ll always be by your side.” Anzhi held her tight.
“Could you try not to be so sad anymore?” Anzhi whispered.
“Alright,” Yan Xi murmured, kissing her chin in return.
“Then don’t drink anymore,” Anzhi took the opportunity to say.
“Alright,” Yan Xi agreed without a second thought.
Anzhi’s dimples showed. She reached out to take the glass and took a small sip.
Before she could even taste it, Yan Xi’s lips chased after hers, drawing the liquid from her mouth into her own.
“Mmh…” Unprepared for this, Anzhi gasped softly. The two of them kissed with tender intimacy for a while, as if the hands of the clock had slowed to a crawl.
“This is good wine.”
Anzhi felt a little tipsy. Resting her forehead against Yan Xi’s, she whispered, “Yiyi, let’s go upstairs.”
“Mmh?” Yan Xi’s lips curved into a smile as she leaned close to her ear. “…Are you hinting at something?”
Anzhi blinked, her face heating up in embarrassment. “…It’s very late. It’s time to sleep.”
Yan Xi smiled, stroked the photo frame, and let out a soft sigh. “Alright.”
There wasn’t much grief in her sigh, only a touch of melancholy, a trace of reflection, and a gentle sense of peace.
Anzhi stood up and reached her hand out to her. A quiet, gentle calm had settled into Yan Xi’s eyes. Anzhi’s fingers were slender and white, soft like those of any young woman, waiting for her. They might not have been as strong or powerful as a man’s, but they could offer her a warmth and peace that no one else could give.
She placed her hand in hers.
Anzhi flashed her a bright smile and pulled her up gently. “Alright, Yan Xiao Wu, let’s go sleepy-sleep.”
She even swayed their joined hands back and forth.
A warm, dense light gathered in Yan Xi’s eyes.
It was as if a familiar scene from her memories was playing out, except that little girl had now grown up and become her lover.
She followed her upstairs.
Anzhi had her lie down, then wrapped her arms around her under the covers, kissing her and whispering sweet, endless words of love into her ear.
Yan Xi stroked the girl’s soft, full cheek as they kissed, sharing a deep warmth. Their hair tangled together as Yan Xi’s fingers traced her chin, her neck, caressing her limbs and her sensitive places.
Anzhi whimpered softly and whispered, “Yiyi, let me do it.” Yan Xi let out a soft, ambiguous sigh that drifted between them. “Taotao…”
Yan Xi nestled into her young, beautiful embrace, letting her undo her buttons one by one from top to bottom, like a scene playing in slow motion.
Yan Xi panted, feeling the young woman’s fresh fragrance spread all around her body, as if she were nestled in a sea of flowers. Myriads of petals gently washed over her, their sweet, light scent seeping through her warmth and into her very blood.
It was like a dense forest in the morning, the air fresh and damp from a recent rain, where every leaf and flower clung to droplets of dew. A single ray of light pierced through the thick canopy, followed by another, then a beam, and then another, until more and more sunlight cascaded down to coat the earth.
In the end, only the soft, light scent of ethereal blossoms and a hint of sweet peach remained, slowly blending with the woman’s soft sighs.
The author has something to say:
We have officially entered the final countdown to the end of the story.
Today is my birthday! There will be a second update later.
Footnotes
- An academic or thesis advisor (导师 - dǎoshī) who closely mentors graduate and doctoral students, supervising their research, coursework, and laboratory projects.
- An auspicious funeral (喜丧 - xǐsāng) in traditional Chinese culture, celebrating the peaceful passing of an elder who lived a long, prosperous, and full life.
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