The Spirit World

Chapter 960 Heavenly Palace (Twenty-three)
I once lived with my grandfather for a period of time.

I was still young at that time, and every time I woke up I could see my grandfather feeding pigeons in the yard.

There happened to be a sweet osmanthus tree in the yard, which was neither too big nor too small. Every time I could smell its rich fragrance without anyone noticing, which accompanied me when I got up, when I ate, and when I went to and from school.

My grandfather didn't keep those pigeons, and because I have never seen a hut where pigeons live, I never knew where they came from.

I could just see them, jumping around and eating small breads, millet grains, and baby corns as they were fed by my grandfather.

I never even thought that this food would be popular with the flock of pigeons. Every morning they were urged to fly over and my grandfather had to get up early to feed them.

At daybreak, I woke up drowsily, washed my face with a small towel, brushed my teeth with a small toothbrush, and then, carrying my small schoolbag, walked dazedly through the flock of pigeons. My grandfather scolded me softly because the pigeons would be scared by me.

But I have never seen those pigeons leave my grandfather. They are not my old acquaintances, they belong to my grandfather. That is why I, his grandson, will not scare them.

Sometimes, I would wonder if there is a possibility that my grandfather found a nest for them somewhere, and they would fly over when it is time for dinner. My grandfather would also take out the "delicacies" he had prepared to feed them, just like my grandmother. Every time she would make a couple of sounds, I would know it was time to eat.

When I jumped out of the little nest they built for me, I became just like those pigeons.

But when I grew up, I looked for them over and over again, but I couldn't find the nest that my grandfather had built for them. It was impossible for me to see my grandfather again.

The pigeons never appeared in the yard again.

Now, I can think that when my grandfather passed away, those pigeons also passed away.

Maybe it’s because there’s no one to feed them, or maybe it’s because they’re missing the company of loneliness.

This is a lonely concern.

Once upon a time, I thought I also had such a "concern". Pigeons are grandpa's "concern", and grandpa is the pigeons' "concern". When grandpa feeds the pigeons, the pigeons will come to this small yard and wait.

I don't have a group of pigeons that I can get up early to feed, so I have lost this natural concern. I deliberately create the so-called concern. I have cats, dogs, and turtles. They seem to become my concern, but I cultivate them too deliberately, which makes me always think that this kind of concern is ruthless, boring and tedious.

Because I never had a flock of pigeons coming from nowhere waiting for me to feed them.

Until now, I still can’t figure out whether it was my grandfather who was waiting for the group of pigeons, or the group of pigeons who were waiting for my grandfather.

Or maybe they were waiting for each other.

This makes me confused and unable to understand or answer.

I can't imagine or see how my cat, dog, and turtle would be saddened by my passing after I die.

Leave the place where I feed them, or never come back.

I can only imagine in loneliness how miserable they will be after losing me...either becoming stray cats and dogs on the streets, or dying in a place where I will never see them again, and becoming shriveled corpses that will be swept into the trash can.

This is such a sad thing, yet I am so calm now.

So now, I am more or less afraid, afraid of death.

I was afraid that I would die, just as I imagined my mother's death.

My mother must be afraid of death, and she must be afraid of how I would live after her death. Would I end up on the streets and become a wild child? Would I be bullied by the relatives who flocked to me? Would I no longer have an optimistic and cheerful life?

What to do if you encounter difficulties in the future...

What should I do if I get seriously ill in the future...

What to do if you have mental illness in the future...

Who...will be like her, wholeheartedly holding me in the palm of her hand, treating me as a treasure...

Thinking of this, I can understand human beings’ fear of death.

You will be left with nothing and no consciousness after death, and everything in the world will no longer have anything to do with your cold body. But you will also feel inexplicably afraid of death.

"Hey……"

I stroked the cat and it lay lazily. Just because I wanted to touch it, it noticed it and felt like a close relative.

My dog ​​also jumped to the bed. It was not as pretentious as my cat and did not need me to sleep with it, but when it saw me get up, it ran to me excitedly.

The turtle I kept in the small water tank was hitting the sand and stones with a crackling sound. It didn't know I was awake, and I could only suddenly assume that it knew I was awake, so it could get some bread crumbs.

This is something I actively raise at home, not like those pigeons, which are "distant friends" that fly over because of my arrival.

I don't have the same natural concern as my grandfather, but I also have this kind of concern.

I must get up early and go to bed early and live a regular life, otherwise my cat, my dog, and my turtle will go hungry because of my laziness.

I raised them on my own initiative. Their lifespans were not as long as mine, so I just wanted to see them die naturally. Although I did not expect them to die in my hands when I bought them, I couldn't help but feel afraid as time went by. I wondered if the day they died would be the most terrifying day of my life.

Unexpectedly, I had to face three separations of life and death.

Oh... maybe two.

Because one of them is a turtle.

Will I cry if my cats and dogs die?

Or will I burst into tears?

I haven't thought about what expression I should have when the day comes when they leave my world, but it's a bad emotion after all, and I won't think about it anymore.

"Nice to have you."

I fed them their breakfast, which only took ten minutes. They finished their meal before I even had breakfast. They lived a more comfortable and carefree life than I did. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like for them when I left.

Do they cry?
Why would you cry?
Or, in the near future, when they sense that they are about to die, will the thing they think of be me, the one who has been with them for so long?

Thinking that animals would also have concerns and that I was being too harsh on them, I could only think about this matter silently and then think of nothing else.

After all, on the day my grandfather passed away, the pigeons did not visit him at his bedside.

The day my mother passed away, my father didn't come to visit.

I looked at the sky from afar, wondering if the pigeons would visit my grandfather's grave when no one was around.

I looked out at the sea from afar, wondering if my father would visit my mother's grave without my knowledge.

This person, of whom only his portrait was left in his world, was still smiling.

I can't blame my mother for not being able to express her concern.

I also can't blame my father for not being able to come to me and tell me that he cares about me.

I can only, little by little, have my own concerns.

It will no longer be a cat or a dog, but a living person.

I hope that I will indeed meet "her" and then we will become each other's concern.

The longing for not wanting to die before each other.

(End of this chapter)