146: Chapter 236 Searching for People

He hunched his back and slowly, step by step, walked toward the side door behind the main hall that was likely the kitchen. His silhouette under the dim yellow light appeared incomparably desolate and lonely.

In the main hall, only Yu Bo, Yin Tianxue, and Tang Guo remained, along with the "the person returning home in wind and snow" raw stone lying quietly on the workbench. The old man's request, so heavy it was almost suffocating, echoed in the air for a long time.

Yu Bo watched the doorway where the old man had disappeared, then looked at the dusty stone on the workbench, his heart filled with a mix of emotions. He had come seeking "Ghost Hand" to carve jade, but had unexpectedly stumbled into a forty-three-year-old past filled with blood, tears, and regret, accepting a request to find someone that was even heavier and more hopeless than the jade carving itself. Payment? This was hardly payment; it was clearly a heavy expectation of redemption and forgiveness, a bet placed by the old man using the last bit of obsession in his remaining years.

Yin Tianxue walked to Yu Bo's side and lightly touched his arm, her eyes filled with worry and inquiry. She was also deeply shaken by the story and understood the difficulty of this search. In the vast sea of people, with no news for forty-three years, trying to find two people based only on an old name, a few vague physical traits, and a birth year from a time when everything was different was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Moreover, even if they were found, after nearly half a century, how should they face and resolve the pain and resentment of the past?

Tang Guo also timidly leaned in and whispered, "Tianxue, Yu Bo, are we... going to agree?"

Yu Bo didn't answer immediately. He walked to the workbench and looked carefully at "the person returning home in wind and snow" once more. The grayish-white snow, the messy cotton-like inclusions, the stiff black and white... How similar was this stone to Yang Shuming's fate? Both were defined by "imperfection" and "mistakes," lying dormant for years in solitude and oblivion. He had come intending to "liberate" the stone, but now, it seemed that even "liberating" the heavier "stubborn stone" in the old man's heart had also become his responsibility.

"Let's eat first." After a long while, Yu Bo finally spoke slowly, his voice a bit raspy. "As for finding the people... we'll do our best. But whether they can be found and what the situation will be if we do, no one knows. We'll do our part; this kind of thing can only be a matter of doing what's humanly possible and leaving the rest to heaven's will."

He knew that once this promise was made, there would be no turning back. It wasn't for the jade, nor was it entirely out of sympathy, but because the last humble spark of redemption in the old man's eyes made it impossible for him to harden his heart and refuse. Perhaps this was also some kind of destined "affinity" and "debt" between him and "the person returning home in wind and snow," and with this "Ghost Hand," Yang Shuming.

The faint clinking of pots and pans and the crackling of burning firewood came from the kitchen. Soon, a simple aroma of food with the scent of woodsmoke wafted out, thinning the heavy atmosphere of sorrow in the main hall.

Dinner was extremely simple, even austere. A dish of home-pickled vegetables, a plate of stir-fried greens freshly picked from the backyard, a bowl of steamed golden cornmeal buns, and a pot of clear soup with a few vegetable leaves and almost no trace of oil. The bowls and chopsticks were coarse pottery, chipped but washed clean.

Yang Shuming silently served them soup and distributed the buns. He took only half of the smallest bun for himself and ate slowly with the pickles, making almost no sound. He didn't mention the search again, nor did he ask about Yu Bo's background or plans, as if the heart-wrenching confession from earlier had never happened, or perhaps he had buried all his expectations and anxiety deep in his heart.

The three of them also ate in silence. Although the food was simple, it had a natural, original flavor. In this mountain village night, so quiet that only the sounds of chewing and the light clink of tableware could be heard, this humble dinner actually had a strange, calming quality.

After dinner, Yang Shuming didn't keep them in the main hall for long. He just pointed to an inner room nearby: "There's an empty room over there. No one usually stays there, but it's fairly clean. You can make do for the night. Tomorrow morning, I'll have Old Man Ren take you out of the mountains."

The inner room was indeed as he said, extremely simple, with only a hard board bed covered with a straw mat, a table with crooked legs, and a chair. But although the bedding was old, it gave off the dry scent of having been sun-dried, and the floor was swept clean.

"Get some rest," Yang Shuming said, then returned to his own room and closed the door. In the main hall, only the dim yellow electric light over the workbench remained on, illuminating "the person returning home in wind and snow" and a pile of silent tools.

As the night deepened, the mountain village became exceptionally quiet and cold. Yu Bo, Yin Tianxue, and Tang Guo squeezed onto one bed, covered by a stiff cotton quilt, each with their own thoughts, unable to fall asleep for a long time.

Yu Bo lay with his eyes open, staring at the rafters in the darkness. Yang Shuming's aged and lonely silhouette, those eyes full of regret and hope, and the stone "the person returning home in wind and snow" that carried such complex expectations repeatedly crossed his mind.

Searching for people... jade carving...

In the dark, it seemed there truly was a divine will at work.

He stared into the darkness, his thoughts in disarray. Searching for someone—how easy was that to say? Forty-three years was enough time to change everything. Lin Xiuying had left in a fit of anger back then; it was highly likely she had changed her name and moved far away. The child was young and might have no impression of their biological father, or might have even changed their surname long ago. Relying only on a name, a zodiac sign, a red mole behind the ear, an old scar on the eyebrow, and a long-blurred birth year to find two people who might be deliberately hiding their tracks in this vast sea of people was nothing short of a pipe dream.

However, the pain and longing buried deep in the old man's heart for decades, that nearly desperate entrustment, made it impossible for him to easily say the words "powerless to help." This wasn't just helping; it was more like a moral succession—taking on a family bond torn apart by the era and mistakes, taking on the last hope of redemption for a lonely soul.

Just as Yu Bo was tossing and turning with tangled thoughts, a suppressed, violent cough came from Yang Shuming's bedroom next door. It was heart-wrenching and sounded exceptionally clear and distressing in the quiet night. The coughing lasted for a while before slowly subsiding, followed by the rustling of clothes being put on and the very faint sound of shuffling feet.

Yu Bo's heart stirred. He got up quietly, trying not to wake Yin Tianxue and Tang Guo, who seemed to have just fallen asleep. He threw on his coat and noiselessly opened the door.

In the main hall, the dim yellow electric light was still on. Yang Shuming hadn't returned to his bedroom; instead, he was wearing a patched old cotton-padded jacket, sitting alone on the worn wooden chair in front of the workbench. He hadn't turned on a brighter light, but by that dim yellow glow, he held "the person returning home in wind and snow" raw stone in his hands.

Yu Bo stood at the doorway of the inner room, not stepping forward immediately. He watched quietly for a while. The old man was grinding very intently and didn't seem to notice his arrival. It wasn't until Yu Bo accidentally brushed against the doorframe, making a very slight "creak" sound.

The grinding motion stopped. Yang Shuming slowly raised his head. Under the dim yellow light, his face appeared even more aged and haggard, but after an initial moment of confusion, his eyes quickly regained their calm, even carrying a hint of displeasure at being disturbed.

"Not asleep yet?" His voice was even raspier and drier than it had been at dinner.

"I heard you coughing and came out to check," Yu Bo said as he took a few steps closer, his tone filled with concern. "The mountain air is cold at night; please take care of your health."

Yang Shuming waved his hand to indicate it was fine. He put down the oilstone in his hand but continued to stroke the stone, his gaze falling upon it as if he could see through the stone's skin to something deeper. "When you get old, you have many ailments. It's no matter." He paused, seeming to hesitate for a moment, before asking in a low voice, "About... the matter of finding the people, do you think I'm talking in my sleep? Like looking for a needle in a haystack, with hopeless prospects?"

Note: "the person returning home in wind and snow" and Yang Shuming. The story is fictional. Do not draw parallels to real life.