My girlfriend was reborn.

Chapter 20: If you don't say anything, you will make a mistake

Sunday, the sky was overcast with faint rumbles of thunder.

Zhou Heming, dressed in a shirt and black suit, stood in a corner of the mourning hall.

The memorial service for Mr. Geng's wife is proceeding slowly.

Both of them were born in a county under Jiangcheng. After working hard for most of their lives, they finally had the opportunity to enjoy their golden years, but the old man fell ill and unfortunately passed away.

The body had already been cremated, but a memorial service was still needed. Now that the eulogy has been prepared, it is time to say goodbye.

The couple's children, relatives, and friends are arriving in waves to pay their respects to the deceased.

Grandpa Geng stood to one side, bowing deeply each time, his expression solemn as he earnestly thanked each visitor.

Cheng Shuangjiang changed into a black dress and solemnly bowed to the old man she had never met before.

When Grandpa Geng saw Cheng Shuangjiang, he bent down even lower.

At this moment, Zhou Heming heard what sounded like some noise coming from outside the mourning hall.

He walked slowly over to check, and saw that outside the mourning hall, there were many people of different ages dressed in dark clothes.

There were tired-looking office workers, housewives with children, successful people who looked like they had a good social standing, college students with clear eyes, and junior high school students in school uniforms.

"what happened?"

Zhou Heming asked the colleague in charge of reception.

"They said they were the deceased's students."

"That colleague said in a deep voice."

Hearing footsteps, Zhou Heming turned around and saw Grandpa Geng walking somewhat shakily to the entrance of the mourning hall.

“Uncle Geng, I came here after seeing the obituary in the newspaper. Although Teacher Jiang only taught me for a year, she taught me how to live. I will never forget her.”

A woman holding a six-year-old child bowed her head to Grandpa Geng in greeting.

“I didn’t have money to pay my tuition back then, and it was Ms. Jiang who helped me pay it. If it weren’t for her, I probably would have dropped out of school long ago. I am very, very grateful to her.”

A well-dressed, gentle-looking man said sincerely.

“Uncle Geng, you may not remember me. That year, it was Teacher Jiang who took me in after I ran away from home. She let me have a meal with your family and brought me back from the wrong path.”

A man wearing glasses, who looked like a school teacher, expressed his gratitude.

There are many more people like this.

Some of them lived simple lives in Jiangcheng, while others returned from other provinces or even abroad after hearing the news. They came from different ages, professions, and genders.

The only thing they had in common was that they were both students of Grandpa Geng's wife and had received care from that teacher, which more or less changed the course of their lives.

Grandpa Geng talked with each of them, listening to their past interactions with their spouses, and thanking them for coming. There were many things he didn't even know.

Zhou Heming suddenly felt that, in this recollection, the deceased old man had come back to life.

The huge mourning hall was eventually packed to capacity; even the unused chairs from next door weren't enough, and a large number of people were standing there.

The memorial service officially began, and the master of ceremonies read the eulogy written by Zhou Heming in a solemn and dignified voice, recounting the extraordinary life of an ordinary person.

The eulogy was too short; a lifetime is too long.

The eulogy concluded with the line, "Peach and plum trees do not speak, yet a path is formed beneath them."

A low sob was heard at the scene, and Zhou Heming looked at Grandpa Geng.

The elderly man did not shed a single tear until he picked up the ashes and left, escorted by staff holding umbrellas.

"If tears fall on the deceased, the deceased will not want to leave."

After the memorial service ended, Zhou Heming sighed and looked at the girl beside him.

Cheng Shuangjiang watched Grandpa Geng leave with a serious expression. Perhaps his wife reminded the young woman of her own grandfather, the old man who loved to play the piano.

"Do you know, Ah He, when you passed away, many people came to your funeral."

"?"

Zhou Heming couldn't help but type out a question mark.

"At thirty-five, you have actually helped many people along the way. Some people have been encouraged by the screenplays you wrote, and others have gained strength simply by being with you. The scene now reminds me of that time."

Cheng Shuangjiang couldn't help but sigh.

"I can't seem to imagine it."

As someone who never contacts anyone and waits for others to come to him, Zhou Heming finds it hard to imagine that many people would mourn him after his death.

"Don't worry about it. I was reborn not to attend your funeral again, Ah He."

The girl revealed a faint, melancholic smile, and that illusory and unreal feeling permeated the air around her.

"I'll go change my clothes first." Zhou Heming had no intention of going to the library in a black suit. He glanced at Cheng Shuangjiang's attire and couldn't tell that she had attended a memorial service.

"Okay, I'll wait for you here."

Cheng Shuangjiang obediently stood in the corner of the funeral home lobby.

Zhou Heming jogged to the changing room, quickly changed into a jacket and trousers, picked up his backpack, and returned to the lobby, only to find a lot of people standing in front of Cheng Shuangjiang.

"What's the matter?"

As he walked over, he saw an elderly man with a cane, walking with a shaky gait, approach the girl.

Then, the old man flung his cane aside and suddenly knelt down in front of her.

"Young lady, our family is so sorry."

The simply dressed old man bowed down to Cheng Shuangjiang and kowtowed very loudly.

In an instant, Zhou Heming understood who these people were.

"The family members of the driver who caused the accident"

It turns out his funeral is also today.

“My husband has ruined many families. We know he did wrong, and an apology is useless, but I am still sorry.”

A woman with a simple and honest appearance also kowtowed to Cheng Shuangjiang.

"My husband and I have done good deeds and accumulated merit our whole lives, how could we have committed such a sin! We could never make up for the debt we owe you by working like oxen and horses for the rest of our lives!"

Beside her, an old woman with several strings of Buddhist prayer beads gritted her teeth and kowtowed violently, almost as if in revenge. The sound made one's teeth chatter.

Behind him stood a young child, his fists clenched, not out of hatred, but out of anger at what his father had done.

No one around stopped them; instead, they were still discussing the driver's tragic fate. Because it was a sudden death, the driver did not bear criminal responsibility or major compensation liability, which aroused indignation among many people who believed in justice.

Of course, among those present, only Cheng Shuangjiang had the right to resent, punish, and scold them.

Zhou Heming looked at the girl.

The girl, whose right hand was in a cast and who had lost her last connection with her only relative in the accident, slowly squatted down.

She stopped the old man who was kowtowing, helped him up with her bandaged left hand, and smiled gently.

Please accept my condolences.

Cheng Shuangjiang said this.

"If he hadn't slammed on the brakes at the last moment, perhaps many more people would have been involved in the accident. He did the best he could. He didn't commit any unforgivable crime. It was just an accident."

"Please, live your lives well."

Zhou Heming knew that although the law did not determine the driver's responsibility, his family members were actually quite upright people, and it was precisely because of this that they were tormented by their conscience and kowtowed to Cheng Shuangjiang to apologize.

All because I have a guilty conscience.

The girl who had endured the suffering was now comforting the driver's family, telling them to live on.

Zhou Heming fell silent.

Only after the family members kept bowing and backing away, leaving only Cheng Shuangjiang's lonely figure, did he step over.

"Ah He, it's been so long~"

The girl gently poked his arm with her left hand in a slightly reproachful tone, showing no sign of having just gone through what had happened.

Seeing this scene, Zhou Heming felt a surge of intense emotions—pity, heartache, and a silent anger at fate.

However, he now knows that he only needs to do one thing.

He forcefully pulled Cheng Shuangjiang's left hand and embraced her.

The girl, who was a head shorter than him, trembled slightly, but did not push Zhou Heming away.

The plaster cast on his arm prevented the two from touching, but Zhou Heming could still feel the warm and real body temperature. He was still holding the other's hand with his right hand, and he could feel a slight tightening in his grip.

"Ah-He, if you keep doing this, I'll really cry."

Cheng Shuangjiang buried her face in his chest and whispered in a soft, nasal voice.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Heming raised his left hand and gently placed it on the thick, ink-black hair.

The girl remained silent, only burying her head even deeper.

The boy looked away.

Outside the window, a light drizzle had started to fall.

*
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(End of this chapter)