I nodded at the lady: "I remember, you are Mr. Liu's wife. How did you come to Beiping?"

She didn't carry an umbrella and was covered in snow. I took her inside the house to warm up.

"Miss Yu, my husband, he's gone. In a few days, there will be a funeral, and I would like to invite you, to ask you to attend."

Liu Xingzhi has died.

He was only thirty-three years old.

A thunderous roar filled my heart, like an avalanche in the mountains.

Suddenly, the lady exclaimed, "Miss Yu, your glove is on fire."

I snapped out of my daze, realizing that I had been too close to the stove, and the cotton glove had caught fire. The lady hurriedly used her hands to put it out.

I understood.

What Liu Xingzhi had done, in this turbulent era, life and death had long lost their significance.

I picked up the hot water bottle from the table and poured her a cup of hot water.

While she was drinking, I took the opportunity to speak, "Lady, I'm not going to Wuxi anymore. Liu Xingzhi and I have had no contact for a long time."

The lady anxiously held the cup and said, "But, Young Master Xingzhi has always been thinking of you."

She took out a large paper package from her bosom.

"He wanted me to burn these letters, but I couldn't bear to. I opened them and they were all written to Miss Yu."

I skeptically opened the package and immediately recognized the school's letterhead.

There were probably dozens of letters, all addressed to A Ge, written by him, but never sent.

The topmost letter was written four months ago:

A Ge, I might die. Before the matter is accomplished, I bid farewell. You and I won't be able to witness the spring breeze of liberation blowing to Jiangnan together. These letters have no chance of reaching you, so I was prepared to destroy them. I don't know if the lady will listen to me, but in case you see them, please burn them for me.

I held the letters, my knuckles turning red, a breath stuck in my chest from my throat.

I cried.

Seeing this letter, I truly felt that the Liu Xingzhi I knew was really gone.

In the midst of my crying, the lady was at a loss, sitting up straight, her actions more restrained.

When my sobs gradually subsided, she patted my back.

"Miss Yu, after that year's falling out, Mr. Liu rarely returned to Wuxi. Could you tell me what he was doing?"

I didn't lie to the lady, Liu Xingzhi and I had no contact.

Over a decade, by chance, we had only met a few times.