Could it be that over time, the effects of Meng Po Soup would gradually fade...?
Since Zhuangzhou Post could send dreams to family, that was perfect for Di Yao. Even though she didn't remember, she still wanted to see her parents and relatives. If possible, she could even ask them to burn some needed items for her.
After seeing Lin Shuang off, Di Yao immediately followed the two women to Zhuangzhou Post.
Zhuangzhou Post sounded like an inn, but in reality, it was just a thousand-year-old ancient tree, a hundred-year-old well, and a small hut enclosed in the suburbs. The tree hollow could transmit sound and images from the Underworld, and the well could receive items entrusted by family in the living world. Under the ancient tree was a small Earth God shrine. The Earth God managed all affairs at Zhuangzhou Post.
Di Yao watched as the two women stood before the tree hollow for a moment, then retrieved a basket of light clothing from the well.
When it was her turn, she mimicked their procedure, standing before the hollow, and asked the Earth God what to do next.
The Earth God was very short, only reaching Di Yao's waist, with graying hair and a walking stick. He spoke patiently: "Little girl, to whom do you wish to send a dream?"
"Old sir, I want to know, if I send a dream now, will I receive things from my family later?" Di Yao asked.
The Earth God stroked his beard and shook his head with a smile. "No. Day and night are reversed between the mortal world and the Underworld. If you want to receive items, you must wait until here it is night, which is daytime in the mortal world. If you want to receive them immediately, your family would have to get up in the middle of the night to burn them for you. Those two women just now are sisters. They retrieved items they requested in a dream yesterday."
The Earth God's voice was unhurried and his explanation clear. Having understood, Di Yao had no further questions. She reached out and felt the empty tree hollow.
"Then I want to send a dream to my mother and father." Reminded by the Earth God that she could only send a dream to one person at a time, Di Yao chose her mother.
The Earth God lifted his walking stick and then struck it on the ground. With a thud, the previously pitch-black tree hollow suddenly transformed into a barrier that looked like a blue-green water ripple. The surface of the barrier rippled slightly, like a water mirror, clearly reflecting Di Yao's image.
"Is that all?" Di Yao asked eagerly.
Thinking she would soon see her mother, Di Yao's heart filled with anticipation. When Mother saw her, she would surely be overjoyed, right? She must miss her dearly. How had her health been lately? Was everything at home well...
Di Yao had so many things she wanted to ask.
Even though she couldn't remember the details of the past, the deep-rooted bond in her blood came naturally and instinctively. Especially after being away from home for so long, these feelings surged even stronger. Di Yao stared intently at the tree hollow, her heart nearly leaping into her throat.
But the blue-green barrier remained still.
Just as she was about to speak, the Earth God shook his head and said, "I can't find any information about your mother. Try someone else."
"Can't find?" Di Yao's brows furrowed. Her heart skipped a beat, as if struck by lightning. "Why can't you find it? Is there a mistake?"
The Earth God, however, was unfazed. "It means your mother is no longer in the mortal world. She has... passed away."
Though Di Yao had suspected as much, hearing the Earth God's confirmation still left her feeling disappointed.
"Then send a dream to my father."
A moment later, the Earth God shook his head again. "Young lady, both of your parents have already..."
So she had already lost her parents. Di Yao had worked for Meng Po for some time. None of the ghosts crossing the bridge had ever recognized her. If her parents hadn't crossed the bridge while she wasn't there, it meant they had left even before her.
Regardless of the truth, Di Yao felt as though she had experienced another parting. Her heart was filled with bitterness and astringency.
When she returned home, she was completely dejected. She didn't even feel like eating dinner.
Ever since they could cook at home, Di Yao would take every opportunity to drag Wei Xunzhou, who usually stayed in his room reading, into the kitchen to help.
Gradually, at dinner time, Wei Xunzhou would come out of his room and stand in the yard to enjoy the view, waiting for Di Yao to call him to cook.
But today, as evening approached, Di Yao didn't call out. Wei Xunzhou saw the light in her room and, after a moment's thought, headed to the kitchen on his own.
He opened the flour cabinet with practiced ease, then carefully dried a bowl, scooped out half a bowl of flour, added water, and began kneading the dough...
These steps seemed ingrained in Wei Xunzhou's bones, even though it was the first time he had cooked alone. Occasionally, when he came across an unfamiliar step, his mind would automatically recall how Di Yao did it—smoothly and naturally.
"Chirp chirp..." The sound of a baby chick came from some corner of the kitchen.
His ears twitched slightly, and he knew exactly where the chick was. Wei Xunzhou pulled open the kitchen door and found the chick behind it. Seeing Wei Xunzhou, the chick dared not chirp anymore; it just shrank back against the door until there was no room to retreat.
Looking at the little creature, Wei Xunzhou suddenly had an idea. He was rarely patient, but now his voice softened considerably. "Yuanbao, come here."
Yuanbao was the name Di Yao had given the chick. It suited its appearance and carried her grand aspirations. More importantly, the name worked for both male and female—she couldn't tell the difference, anyway. Di Yao was extremely satisfied with the name.
Initially, when Wei Xunzhou heard Di Yao calling the chick Yuanbao, he was eating and nearly choked.
He didn't understand why a mere chicken needed a name, let alone such an uninspired one. But after working with Di Yao for a while, he came to realize that Yuanbao was actually the most tasteful name she had come up with.
Di Yao had a strong urge to name things. Everything in the house had a name and a label. For example, her colorful clothes: Little Yellow, Little Pink, Little Red, Little Green. Even Wei Xunzhou's collection of black robes, she would find inspiration from patterns, fabric textures, or thread colors, resulting in names like Little Gold, Little Cloud, Fluffy...
Yuanbao was no ordinary poultry, but since it had never encountered any of its formidable relatives after hatching, its temperament was no different from that of ordinary chickens in the mortal world—timid and simple-minded. It ate a lot and grew fast, changing almost every day.
But Wei Xunzhou still seemed somewhat dissatisfied.
Simple-minded Yuanbao, seeing the wheat grains in Wei Xunzhou's hand, couldn't take its eyes off them. Today, Di Yao hadn't fed it anything all day, so it had sneaked into the kitchen to find food.
Without any effort, Wei Xunzhou lured Yuanbao over. He held it in his hands and glanced at the boiling water.
Di Yao had shut herself in her room and slept. She rarely dreamed, but this time she had a dream after a long while. In the dream, she turned into a butterfly, fluttering through a bustling market, watching people come and go. She saw a swing in a courtyard, crabapple blossoms swaying in the wind, and heard laughter and ordinary songs.
She knew that was her home in the mortal world. So she desperately tried to fly into that mansion to see her family. Just as she was about to enter the gate, her vision suddenly jolted violently. Her wings shattered, and her whole body hit the ground hard. No matter how hard she flapped, she couldn't get up.
Gradually, the laughter and joy from the courtyard faded away. She only heard the jeers of a group of children. Then, a brat holding a slingshot came forward triumphantly, picked her up, and put her into a pitch-black, icy box.
When she woke up, the lamplight was dazzling. It took her a while to sit up. She touched the teardrop stains on the pillow and tried to recall everything in the dream.
Everything in the dream felt so real, as if she had experienced it herself. But that shouldn't be—she had already drunk Meng Po Soup.
Could it be that over time, the effects of Meng Po Soup would gradually fade?
Di Yao stood up and stretched. Suddenly, an image flashed through her mind. Though blurry, it lingered persistently.
A crabapple tree, a swing set. A young man and woman were admiring flowers and reciting poetry, chatting about romance. Beside the stone table under the tree sat a beautiful woman, holding needle and thread, sewing a bright red dress.
"Red dress... wedding dress?" Before Di Yao could fully process this, she had already opened the wardrobe door.
When she first arrived in the Underworld, she was wearing a wedding dress. That dress was intricately made, with top-tier fabric and embroidery thread, and was worth quite a bit. For that reason, she had kept it well-stored in the deepest part of the cabinet.
After some rummaging, Di Yao pulled out the wedding dress and examined it carefully.
"Could this wedding dress be the one Mother made in the dream?"
The stitches on the dress were neat and delicate, clearly the work of considerable effort. She couldn't discern anything else.
Just as she was about to fold the dress back into the cabinet, she felt something uneven in the sleeve. Di Yao unfolded the dress again and took out the object from the sleeve.
It was a cyan sachet embroidered with mandarin ducks playing in the water. The design was simple, like something a man would use.
Di Yao studied the patterns on the sachet carefully. The stitches were crude, far inferior to the embroidery on the wedding dress, clearly not made by the same person.
"Then this sachet... could I have made it?" Di Yao knew she was clumsy even at sewing clothes, so her embroidery skills were mediocre at best.
Looking at the sachet, Di Yao suddenly noticed that the two sides were different. The lower left corner of one side was embroidered with the characters "墨墨" (Mo Mo), while the other side had "守砚" (Shouyan) in the same place.
"Mo Mo..." Di Yao repeated the name to herself. It rolled off the tongue smoothly, but she had no other impression of it. As for the other name, it sounded like a man's name.
Neither name had a surname. Di Yao didn't know who these people were, but she knew they must be connected to her.
A memento inside the wedding dress.
Could it be that this "Shouyan" was Wei Xunzhou's courtesy name?
Wei Xunzhou, courtesy name Shouyan... But why did it feel so strange?