417: Chapter 417 The storyteller has always been here! — Bonus chapter sponsored by <The Old Man's Paradise>

The door to the study was pushed open from the inside.

Autumn light flooded through the crack in the door, spreading a layer of warm white spots across the floor tiles.

Lin Que stepped out of the threshold first, followed by Xu Zhengqing, whose pace was half a beat slower than when he had entered.

Xu Changge was sitting on a horseshoe-back armchair in the outer room.

The purple clay teapot on the low table beside him was emitting thin wisps of white steam, and the tea had already been refilled for the third time.

His hand rested on the armrest, his knuckles slightly stiff from waiting for so long.

Seeing the two come out, Xu Changge stood up from his chair.

His gaze swept quickly back and forth between his grandfather and Lin Que.

"Grandpa, are you two finished talking?"

Xu Zhengqing stopped at the threshold.

The expression on his face was much more relaxed than it had been in the study, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothed out.

It revealed a kind of easygoing manner that only appeared in his own courtyard.

He looked at Lin Que, then turned to look at his grandson, his tone very natural.

"Jingwen, see your classmate out for me."

Xu Changge responded and quickly walked to Lin Que's side. The two walked side by side toward the courtyard gate.

As they passed through the corridor, Xu Changge glanced sideways at Lin Que.

He wanted to ask something; his lips moved, but he swallowed the words back down.

His grandfather was still standing in the courtyard, so some things were not suitable to be said here.

The shadow of the old locust tree fell on the blue brick ground; when the wind blew, the shadow swayed along with it.

Lin Que reached the courtyard gate and stopped outside the threshold.

He turned around to face Xu Zhengqing.

The old man was still standing at the end of the corridor, one hand resting on a pillar, looking over against the light.

That gaze, spanning the entire courtyard, was still steady and remained unfathomable.

Lin Que kept his hands at his sides and bowed slightly.

He raised his head, his tone solemn, each word striking with resonance:

"Rest assured, Elder Xu, I will certainly keep the words you entrusted to me in mind."

Xu Zhengqing nodded by the corridor pillar without speaking.

Lin Que straightened up. He did not turn to leave immediately.

The autumn wind poured in from the entrance of the alley, causing the pair of copper rings on the door frame to sway gently.

"Additionally, regarding Elder Xu's concerns about the Chinese Literary World just now."

Lin Que's voice was not high, but the layout of the courtyard carried every word to the end of the corridor.

"I have one more thing to say, if I may be so bold."

Standing nearby, Xu Changge subconsciously turned his head to look at Lin Que's profile.

Xu Zhengqing's fingers stopped on the corridor pillar.

Lin Que's gaze was calm, looking directly across the entire courtyard at the old man standing at the end of the corridor.

"Those paths are already being walked by people."

He spoke very slowly, not because he was weighing his words, but to give each word enough weight.

"Though they do not walk fast, they walk very steadily."

In the courtyard, there was only the sound of the wind and the rustling of the locust leaves.

"You need not worry."

Lin Que paused for a beat.

"Because the person writing the stories has actually always been on that land, never leaving."

After saying this, he did not wait for any reaction.

He bowed deeply again, the angle of his bend even deeper than the last time.

Then he straightened up, turned, stepped over the threshold, and strode deep into the alley.

The sound of his footsteps on the blue bricks was rhythmic; he did not look back.

The courtyard was silent for three seconds.

Xu Zhengqing stood at the end of the corridor, slowly withdrawing his hand from the pillar.

"Always been on that land."

He rolled the phrase over in his throat.

His voice was very soft, so soft that even Xu Changge, standing at the courtyard gate, could not hear it clearly.

"Never leaving."

Xu Zhengqing's brow furrowed as he repeatedly chewed over these words between his teeth.

"Never leaving..."

Xu Zhengqing's breathing hitched for a moment.

He did not move, but stared fixedly at the empty alley outside the courtyard gate.

In those eyes that had seen through half a century of storms in the literary world, a certain burning brightness gradually ignited.

It was like a bell-ringer who had kept a desperate watch for decades finally hearing an echo from afar in the wind and snow.

"Good..."

A low, raspy sound rolled out of the old man's throat.

Immediately after, a second "Good" suddenly rose in pitch, turning into a burst of desolate yet joyful laughter.

The laughter carried a sense of relief, as if exhaling decades of pent-up frustration in one go.

He stood under the old locust tree, the veins on the back of his hand slightly bulging, and a hint of deeply restrained brightness appeared in the corners of his eyes.

The laughter echoed around the courtyard several times.

Even Aunt Lu, who was cleaning next door, poked her head out to take a look before retreating back.

Xu Changge stood at the courtyard gate, feeling as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head.

From childhood to now, the number of times he had seen his grandfather laugh could be counted on one hand.

At banquets in the literary world or when critiquing the writings of the younger generation in the study,

the old man's smile was at most a slight curve of the lips, shallow, like a thin layer of autumn frost.

In his seventeen years of life, this was the first time he had seen this kind of laughter.

Xu Changge looked at Lin Que's receding back in the alley, then turned back to look at his grandfather, who was laughing uncontrollably.

He hurriedly chased out of the courtyard gate.

"Lin Que! Wait a moment!"

The footsteps in the alley stopped for a beat. Lin Que stood still by a crooked-necked plane tree and turned around.

Xu Changge quickly caught up, and the two stood side by side in the deep alley paved with blue bricks.

At the base of the gray-tiled walls on both sides of the alley, the leaves of the creepers were blown over by the autumn wind, revealing the pale white fuzz on their undersides.

"You walked too fast; I didn't even have time to speak before you were out the door."

Xu Changge's tone carried a hint of complaint, but it was mostly filled with curiosity he couldn't hide.

"I was afraid of disturbing Elder Xu's rest,"

Lin Que said.

The two walked slowly out along the alley.

Xu Changge's steps were a bit shorter than usual, and he hesitated to speak several times.

His lips opened and closed, like a fish on the shore debating whether to jump into the water.

When they reached the mouth of the alley, sunlight shone down through the gap between two old buildings, stretching their shadows very long.

Xu Changge finally couldn't hold it in.

He stopped, turned his head, and looked at Lin Que's profile, which was as calm as a mirror.

"Lin Que, what exactly did you mean by that last sentence you said to my grandfather?"

Lin Que looked at him.

Unprecedentedly intense emotions surged in Xu Changge's eyes.

He spoke very slowly, his voice low in his throat:

"Lin Que, that last sentence..."

"Does Jian Shen really not need my grandfather's protection?"

"Or rather, has he actually always been in a place where we can see him?"

A bicycle passed by the mouth of the alley; the sound of the chain clicking lasted for two seconds before fading away.

Lin Que looked at Xu Changge.

Then he smiled.

That smile was very shallow, carrying something that Xu Changge could not understand at all.

It wasn't perfunctory or evasive; it was more like someone who knew the answer waiting for the questioner to walk up to that answer themselves.

"Old Xu, see you at the dorm."

Lin Que raised his hand and patted Xu Changge's shoulder, then turned and walked toward the main road outside the alley.

Xu Changge stood at the mouth of the alley, watching that figure pass through the dappled tree shadows, getting further and further away, finally disappearing around the street corner.

The autumn wind swirled a plane tree leaf past his feet.

He stood for a dozen seconds before turning to walk back.

When he pushed open the courtyard gate, Xu Zhengqing was no longer in the corridor.

The old man was standing under the old locust tree in the center of the courtyard, one hand behind his back and the other resting on the bluestone drum-shaped stone.

The smile on his lips hadn't completely faded, like a thin layer of residual warmth.

Xu Changge walked over and stood by the stone drum.

"Grandpa."

Xu Zhengqing turned his head to look at him.

"What kind of mystery was hidden in what Lin Que just said?"

Xu Changge looked into his grandfather's eyes, the confusion in his voice no longer suppressible.

"Also, why did you laugh like that just now? In all my life, I've never seen you so..."

Xu Zhengqing did not answer immediately.

He looked down at the shallow patina that had been worn into the surface of the stone drum.

Those were the marks left by sitting down and standing up countless times over decades, repeatedly rubbed by palms.

"Jingwen."

Xu Zhengqing's voice was a tone softer than it had been in the study, but the weight of what lay beneath it was even heavier.

"Grandpa laughed because I saw something."

Xu Changge waited.

"The hope of the Chinese Literary World."

Xu Zhengqing raised his head, his gaze crossing the courtyard wall and falling in the direction of the alley where Lin Que had left.

The late autumn sky was very high, and the clouds were torn by the wind, revealing the clean blue behind them.

"During the time you were waiting outside the study today, Lin Que told me a lot."

Xu Zhengqing pressed his palm against the stone drum.

Xu Changge's Adam's apple bobbed.

"Like Jian Shen..."

"As long as your generation dares to plant your feet firmly in the soil and dares to face real suffering directly."

He turned to face Xu Changge, reached out, and heavily patted his grandson's shoulder.

The force of that pat was much heavier than Xu Changge had expected.

"Our traditional literature will not die."

A few leaves from the old locust tree were swept down by the wind, spiraling between the two of them before landing silently on the blue brick ground.

Xu Zhengqing withdrew his hand from Xu Changge's shoulder and placed it behind his back.

"The future, after all, belongs to you young people."

Xu Changge stood under the old locust tree, watching his grandfather turn and slowly walk back toward the study.

The old man's back was much shorter than when he was young.

Though his back was slightly hunched, his steps were firm with every stride.

Half an hour later, a taxi was driving smoothly on the Second Ring Road of the capital.

Lin Que sat in the back seat, watching the street scenery recede outside the car window.

A very faint smile appeared on his cold, hard face.

That phrase "never leaving" was not a hypocritical consolation at all.

Rather, it was a corner of the trump card he had shown to this pillar of the literary world in his identity as Lin Que.

He knew that Xu Zhengqing had understood.

...