Li Guoqiang, still unsettled by his son's earlier words, felt a fresh wave of unease rise within him as he watched his daughter step forward.
"Little Shuying," he said hurriedly, his tone edged with concern, "that is tea. There is a proper method to preparing it, one that requires practice. You may not know it."
Li Shuying turned to him and offered a soft, reassuring smile. "Father, do not worry," she said gently. "I know how to do it."
Before he could respond, she had already moved toward the tea table.
With calm deliberation, she opened the porcelain jar. The moment the lid lifted, a delicate fragrance drifted into the air.
"It is jasmine tea," she said softly.
The tea leaves within were slender and slightly curled, their dark green hue interwoven with pale, dried jasmine blossoms. Even before brewing, they carried a refined aroma, fresh, floral, and faintly sweet, as though capturing the breath of early summer mornings.
Li Shuying inhaled lightly, then turned toward Lee Leiwah.
"Madam He," she said respectfully, "this tea would best be prepared using the gaiwan method."
He Guangsheng immediately understood her attempt to shift his wife's mood and a faint chuckle followed.
"Well now, little comrade," he said, his tone warming, "you truly are learned. Indeed, it is jasmine tea and the gaiwan method suits it best."
Lee Leiwah, too, watched quietly, a subtle curiosity returning to her gaze.
Li Shuying did not speak further. Instead, she began.
She first rinsed the porcelain tea pot, bowl, lid, and saucer, warming it with a careful pour of hot water before discarding it. Her movements were unhurried, precise without being rigid.
Next, she measured a modest portion of tea leaves and placed them gently into the warmed tea pot. The leaves settled like quiet ink strokes against white porcelain.
She lifted the kettle and poured hot water in a thin, steady stream, allowing it to cascade along the inner edge rather than directly onto the leaves, a subtle gesture, yet one that preserved their integrity.
As the water met the leaves, they stirred softly, unfurling like waking petals.
She covered the gaiwan with its lid.
The room fell into a gentle silence.
Her fingers rested lightly upon the lid, as though feeling the breath of the tea within.
Though not flawless like a trained person, her movements carried a natural grace.
Everyone watched.
Li Guoqiang's earlier anxiety slowly gave way to astonishment.
Gu Zhenhua's gaze sharpened, observing every detail.
Even He Guangsheng leaned back slightly, a trace of admiration surfacing in his expression.
After a moment, He Guangsheng spoke.
"Little comrade," he said, his voice thoughtful, "from whom did you learn such tea-making?"
Li Shuying smiled faintly, her eyes lowering to the gaiwan.
"I did not learn it formally," she replied. "In our brigade, Leader Liu's late mother used to brew tea often. I merely observed her over time."
He Guangsheng's surprise deepened.
"You learned this… simply by watching?"
Li Shuying nodded.
"I found it fascinating," she said softly. "Not because it made one appear scholarly or refined… but because of the emotion behind it."
As she spoke, she gently adjusted the lid of the gaiwan, sealing the fragrance within.
Her voice softened further, as though recalling something distant.
"As a kid every time I visited Leader Liu's house, I would see Grandma Liu preparing tea. But she never brewed it carelessly, as most people do, simply pouring boiling water and drinking it at once. She always used the gaiwan to brew it slowly."
Li Shuying's fingers rested lightly upon the lid.
"Once, I asked her why."
Her gaze lifted slightly, her tone carrying a quiet weight.
"She told me… it was because of her late husband."
"She was widowed at a very young age," Li Shuying continued. "Yet she never remarried. She said to me..."
Her voice softened, almost echoing another's.
"...'Child, love is like this tea. If you seal it within the bowl, it will slowly steep, deeper, richer… but if left too long, it will turn bitter, even spoil. When your grandfather Liu left, I could have remained closed like this, letting my sorrow steep endlessly. But I had children… elder in laws who loved me. How could I let my grief suffocate them?'"
A faint stillness settled over the room.
"She said, 'So I learned to brew my heart as I brew this tea, keeping what is mine within, but opening the lid at the right moment… letting its fragrance flow outward. In this way, love does not rot in silence, it lives, it lingers, it comforts.'"
Li Shuying's fingers moved.
She lifted the lid.
At once, the fragrance of jasmine rose into the air soft, elegant, and quietly profound. It spread through the room like an unspoken memory, gentle yet lingering.
She looked up, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Grief is deep and suffocating," she said. "If kept sealed too long, it harms not only oneself, but also those who care for us. It is right to mourn… but one must also know when to open the heart."
Her gaze turned to Lee Leiwah.
"Otherwise… the tea will turn bitter."
Lee Leiwah sat still, her gaze resting on the rising steam of the gaiwan. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, slowly, she spoke, her voice calm, yet carrying a weight that could not be concealed.
"Indeed, one should not let grief harm those who still live… but that is easy to say, little comrade. A person's grief, does not remain the same. It deepens… when the death of a loved one is more brutal than one can bear. When it happens before your very eyes… and you are powerless to stop it." Her voice lowered, "You would not understand."
Her eyes had turned distant and empty, as though no longer seeing the present.
Li Shuying watched her quietly. Then, unexpectedly, she turned her head slightly toward her father and brothers. A faint chuckle escaped her lips soft, almost self-mocking.
No one understands better than I do, she thought.
But when she spoke, her voice remained composed, gentle. "Madam He, you are right. I may never fully comprehend such grief… nor dare to imagine it. But I do understand one thing. When a person is gone… they are gone forever. What remains behind is us and the grief we carry. And that grief… becomes our choice. We may allow it to consume us slowly, like tea left too long beneath a closed lid… or we may let it become strength."
A quiet stillness settled in the room.
"I am certain," she added gently, "that your brother would never wish to see you suffer like this."
Lee Leiwah's eyes trembled. A tear slipped silently down her cheek. "Comrade Li…" she said, her voice breaking for the first time, "I was a military doctor."
Her hands clenched tightly now, as though gripping an invisible memory.
"When my brother was shot nine times, I ran to him. I held him in my arms." Her breath faltered. "And before he died… he looked at me. He looked at me with hope… with a desire to live." Her lips quivered. "But I…I was useless. Incompetent. I could not save him."
Her eyes, filled with anguish, lifted toward Li Shuying. "Tell me… what must he think of me now, in the afterlife?"
A heavy silence fell.
He Guangsheng closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, pain and helplessness etched into his expression. Yet, for reasons even he could not fully grasp, he did not interrupt.
Li Shuying listened without moving. Then, she nodded slowly. Her voice, when she spoke, was soft but carried an unshakable clarity. "Madam He… you ask what your brother might think of you. Then let me ask you, if you were the one lying there, and your brother held you in his arms… what would you wish for in that final moment?"
Lee Leiwah froze.
Li Shuying continued, her voice steady. "Would you wish for him to blame himself for the rest of his life? To abandon his duties, his purpose… to let grief consume him until nothing remained? Or… would you wish for him to live well? To carry your memory with strength… and continue walking the path you both once believed in?"
Lee Leiwah's lips parted slightly, but no words came.
Li Shuying's voice grew gentler, yet firmer. "Your brother looked at you with hope, not because he believed you would save him… but because, in that moment, you were his hope."
"He did not see a failure," she said quietly. "He saw his sister, someone he trusted, someone he loved. And in his final breath, what he entrusted to you… was not his life. It was his unfinished will to live."
Tears welled in Lee Leiwah's eyes.
Li Shuying continued, her voice now carrying a quiet, profound resonance. "To carry grief is human. But to let it devour everything you are… is to abandon what the departed have entrusted to you."
She glanced briefly toward He Guangsheng, then back at Lee Leiwah.
"You left your post as a doctor… yet how many lives could you have saved since then? You withdrew into sorrow… yet how many people still stand beside you, waiting for your strength? Madam He… your grief is not wrong. But allowing it to destroy you… will only turn your brother's final hope into regret."
A single tear fell from Lee Leiwah's eye.
"We cannot change what has passed," Li Shuying said. "But we can decide what becomes of it within us."
Lee Leiwah's tears still clinging to her lashes, "But… even if what you say is true," she murmured, "there is still something I cannot let go."
Her fingers curled tightly at her sides. "No matter how I think about it, I cannot forgive myself. Even if he does not blame me… I do."
Li Shuying did not respond immediately. She looked at Lee Leiwah for a long moment, then spoke softly. "Madam He… if guilt alone could change the past, then perhaps none of us would have regrets. But guilt that only binds you… is no longer atonement. It becomes another form of escape."
Lee Leiwah's eyes flickered.
Li Shuying continued, "You say you cannot forgive yourself. Then tell me… what does your brother gain from that? Does your suffering bring him peace? Does your self-blame give meaning to his sacrifice?"
Lee Leiwah's lips trembled.
Li Shuying's voice softened further. "Or… is it that by punishing yourself, you feel you are still holding on to him?"
The words struck deeper than any accusation. A faint shiver passed through Lee Leiwah.
Tears streamed down Lee Leiwah's face again but this time, they were no longer suffocating. They trembled with something else… something breaking free.
Li Shuying sighed and turned slightly toward He Guangsheng, her tone returning to its usual calm composure.
"Leader He," she said respectfully, "regarding the apples… I do not have any more with me at the moment. But when I return to visit my father again, I will certainly bring more for Madam He. If those apples can offer even a small measure of comfort… then I am willing to do this much."
Then, looking directly at Lee Leiwah, she added softly, "But more than that… I hope that one day, you will be able to leave your grief behind. And live again. If not for anyone else… then for your brother himself."
Those words finally broke the last restraint. Lee Leiwah covered her face as heavy sobs escaped her lips.
The room grew heavy.
No one spoke.
Li Guoqiang sat in silence, his expression solemn and Gu Zhenhua's gaze darkened slightly, his jaw tightening.
They both understood.
Such grief… was not unfamiliar to soldiers.
They, too, had seen their comrades fall before their eyes and had felt that same helplessness, that same lingering weight.
He Guangsheng, however gently placed a hand on Lee Leiwah's shoulder, his usually firm demeanor softening.
"It's alright," he said quietly.
Lee Leiwah, still crying, looked up at him through blurred vision. "I… I'm sorry," she said between sobs. "Have I… made your life more difficult… because of my choices?"
He Guangsheng's brows furrowed at once. "What nonsense are you speaking?" he said, his voice firm, carrying the unmistakable authority of a soldier.
"We are revolutionary partners," he continued. "How could I ever feel burdened by you?"
His tone softened slightly. "It is our responsibility to support one another, especially in times of hardship."
Lee Leiwah's tears fell silently as she listened.
He Guangsheng then glanced at Li Shuying, before turning back to his wife. "However… I do agree with this little comrade." He paused, "It is time, you should leave this grief behind… and return to your duty as a military doctor. I knew your brother well, he was not only your kin but also a good comrade of mine."
A faint, distant warmth crossed his expression, "If he were still here… he would want the same. To see you stand again. To see you work, to save lives… and to live your life fully."
Lee Leiwah did not speak again immediately. Her tears came in waves until what remained was no longer a storm, but the lingering ache after it had passed. Gradually, her breathing slowed. The room, too, seemed to settle with her.
After a while, Lee Leiwah lowered her hand and reached out to gently lifted the lid of the gaiwan. Then, quietly, she picked up the gaiwan and poured the tea into the cups before her.
She than offered one cup to each one of the members on the table and said, "My brother was always impatient. He used to complain that I took too long with everything. If he were here now…" she continued slowly, "he would probably scold me again for wasting so many years like this."
The words settled gently into the room. She turned, at last, toward He Guangsheng.
Her gaze met his, not with apology, nor guilt, but with understanding. "I have made you worry," she said softly.
It was an acknowledgment.
He Guangsheng looked at her for a moment, then gave a faint nod. There was no reproach in his expression, only quiet relief.
Lee Leiwah then looked at Li Shuying. For a brief moment, her eyes softened, not with the earlier fragility, but with a calm, thoughtful warmth as she said, "Thank you little comrade… I understand now. The grief will not disappear, but it does not have to remain sealed. And if it must remain… then it should at least not turn bitter."
After a moment, she straightened slightly. There was still exhaustion in her posture, but beneath it, something long absent had quietly returned.
"I will… go back," she said, "Not immediately. But… I will prepare myself. There are still things I must remember… and things I must relearn." She glanced briefly at her hands. "These hands… should not remain idle."
Li Shuying smiled faintly and inclined her head. "Madam He..."
Before she could finish, Lee Leiwah gently interrupted her, a trace of warmth returning to her voice.
"Little comrade," she said, her tone softer now, almost affectionate, "you may call me Aunt Lee. Though this is our first meeting, there are times when people meet and feel… as though they have known one another for years."
He Guangsheng, also nodded with approval. "That is right. You and your brothers may call me Uncle He as well."
His gaze then shifted toward Li Guoqiang. "Comrade Li, you have indeed raised an exceptional daughter. Today, she has did something that I could not, even after many years. In that sense… she is a benefactor to my household."
Li Guoqiang immediately straightened, his expression turning modest yet firm. "Commander He, please do not say such things. My daughter has done nothing worthy of being called a benefactor. She merely spoke honestly and allowed Madam to reflect upon her own thoughts."
Li Shuying also spoke at once, her tone earnest and composed. "Yes, Uncle He. Your acknowledgment is more than enough for me. As for being called a benefactor… let us not speak of it further."
Only for now, she added silently in her heart. Such a favor… may one day be needed.
Her gaze shifted quietly toward Lee Leiwah.
In truth, when she had come here, her intention had been clear, to leave a strong and lasting impression upon He Guangsheng, so that when her father face danger, there would be someone of authority willing to stand by him.
But seeing Lee Leiwah's fragility had stirred something within her, something old, something she had already been through. Compared to what she herself had endured in her previous life, Lee Leiwah's pain was perhaps less cruel… yet it was no less real.
And so, what she had done today no longer felt like mere calculation.
It felt… justified.
Gradually, the atmosphere in the room softened.
The earlier heaviness dissolved into a quiet warmth, and conversation began to flow more naturally. Even Li Jianmin and Li Jianguo, who had initially remained reserved, slowly found their voices, joining in with cautious ease.
Laughter, light and tentative at first, soon followed.
Lee Leiwah, too, seemed to have shed much of her earlier restraint. After some time, she rose and said with a gentle smile, "It is getting late. Let us prepare for dinner."
She moved toward the kitchen area, but this time, Li Shuying followed without hesitation.
"I will help you, Aunt Lee," she said.
Lee Leiwah glanced at her, a hint of fondness flickering in her eyes. "Very well, then. Come."
The two worked side by side, their movements gradually falling into a quiet rhythm. The earlier formality between them faded, replaced by something far more natural.
Their conversation, too, shifted.
Lee Leiwah asked about Li Shuying's daily life, her studies, her interests, her thoughts for the future. Li Shuying answered calmly, occasionally with a touch of youthful liveliness that made Lee Leiwah smile more than once.
Outside, the men continued their discussion, but the room no longer felt divided. It felt… whole.
Soon, the dishes were set upon the table.
"Come," Lee Leiwah called gently. "The meal is ready."
Everyone rose, gathering around the table. Just as they were about to begin, a sudden, knock sounded at the door.
He Guangsheng and Lee Leiwah exchanged a brief glance, both sensing that the interruption was not ordinary.
"I will see who it is," Lee Leiwah said.
She walked toward the door and opened it.
The moment the door opened, Lee Leiwah recognized the visitor and greeted him with polite surprise.
"Political Commissar Sun? What brings you here at this hour? Is everything alright?"
Sun Zhigang gave a slight nod and replied, somewhat stiffly, "Madam He, I heard that Comrade Gu had returned and would be meeting Commander He this evening. I happened to be nearby, so I thought I would come and see him."
Lee Leiwah smiled gently and stepped aside. "Then you have come at the right time. Please, come in, Comrade Gu is already here."
"Thank you," Sun Zhigang said, inclining his head as he stepped inside.
He walked into the living room with measured steps. The moment his gaze fell upon Gu Zhenhua, he prepared to greet him, but before the words could leave his mouth, his eyes shifted slightly.
And then he froze.
His face drained of color, his pupils contracting sharply as though he had seen something impossible.
"Li… Guoqiang?" he murmured under his breath.