My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 74: There are many beautiful things in the world

"Every generation carries the marks of its time. Take my grandmother's generation, for example. They experienced poverty, hunger, communal meals, and being sent to the countryside. They spent their whole lives struggling, and even when they should be enjoying their retirement, they can’t seem to relax. They wake up before the sun rises every day, and if they have nothing to do, they’ll grab a broom and sweep around the front gate, almost as if they want to sweep away a layer of the road itself."

Since Jiang He arrived, Xu Qing had unknowingly turned into a chatterbox. Whenever he had free time, he would babble on, and surprisingly, Jiang He liked listening to him, almost as if she were hearing stories—everything seemed fresh to her.

"Then came my dad's generation. Life started getting better... Well, it wasn’t that good, just a lot better than the previous generation. Especially when he grew up—housing and jobs were all allocated by the state. Everything was stable. As long as you focused on your work, you’d be fine. That’s why they had a fervent desire for the iron rice bowl, and they wanted their children to also work within the system, get government paychecks, and have stability no matter what."

"And you?" Jiang He only half-understood. She vaguely knew that working in the system was equivalent to working for the authorities.

"I’m the newest generation. What we pursue is the meaning of life—the meaning of being alive."

"The meaning of life?"

"Yeah, the meaning of life. I often reflect on why we live and what we live for." Xu Qing struck a philosophical pose, pushing up his non-existent glasses with his finger.

"What’s the meaning?"

"We’re already here?"

Jiang He looked even more confused.

"Yeah, we’re already here, so why not just live? And then there's a second layer of meaning: to be happy, or to be free. Since we’re already here, we should make life enjoyable and have fewer regrets. There’s no need to compare ourselves with others. Everyone experiences their own joys and sorrows—only they know how it feels. As long as I know I’m content, that’s enough. Simply put, life is short, so enjoy the present."

"Of course, not everyone in our generation thinks this way. But this way of thinking belongs to our generation. You might not see it now, but in many years, the marks of our era will be obvious."

Seeing Jiang He’s puzzled expression, he continued, "You also carry the marks of your era, which is even older than my grandmother's... Well, it is older than hers. For example, when you hear the term ‘stability in droughts and floods,’ how does it sound to you?"

"It sounds... really dependable." Jiang He inexplicably liked the phrase.

"‘Stability in droughts and floods’ is synonymous with dependability because it means you won’t starve no matter what happens. That’s a common trait of people who’ve suffered hunger: they never want to experience it again.

"But for many people today, it’s just a phrase without any special meaning. That’s the difference between us—our values are different."

Xu Qing paused to let her absorb that, then continued, "Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m better than you, or you’re better than me. There’s no distinction between high and low. Whether you’ve gone hungry or not is just an experience, nothing more. My grandmother lives happily in our hometown every day, and that’s perfectly fine.

"But the key is, you need to learn to embrace new things. Don’t instinctively reject them. You might discover new joys. There’s so much beauty in this world you haven’t experienced yet. Clinging to old ways would be such a pity."

"Like what?" Jiang He asked.

"Like, can I hold your hand? Holding hands is a beautiful thing—it makes your heart race." Xu Qing glanced at her hand. "It’s a small thing, but I’d really like you to experience that kind of beauty."

???

Jiang He stared blankly at his serious expression.

Discovering new joys, new beauty, starts with holding hands?

"Want to try? We’re pretending to be a couple anyway. It’s just holding hands, no big deal." Xu Qing asked.

"…"

"Come on, it’s not like I’m doing anything else. Holding hands… just think of it like holding a sword. My hand is the sword—cutting down all the nonsense." He waved his hand dramatically, as if brandishing a weapon.

"Well… okay, you try."

Jiang He hesitated, rolled up her sleeves, and extended her hand.

Well… well… it’s not a big deal.

"Sitting here doesn’t count as holding hands—it’s just touching. Isn’t that a bit indecent?" Xu Qing stood up and put on his coat. "Let’s go for a walk."

"…"

In the depths of winter, even the sunlight lacked warmth, offering only a faint sense of comfort.

The snow would melt during the day and refreeze at night. It wasn’t yet noon, so the ground was still slick with ice. Jiang He didn’t play her ice-sliding game this time, letting Xu Qing hold her hand as they walked slowly together.

"Feel anything different?" Xu Qing asked.

"No."

"What about this?"

He lightly traced his pinky across her palm. Jiang He jerked her hand back and stared at him with wide eyes.

"That’s the feeling… Just a demonstration. Now, give me your hand."

Xu Qing guided her hand into his again and leisurely swung it.

No feeling? Yeah, right. Her palm was sweating in the cold winter air. Her hand was warm, the calluses on her palm a bit rough, but the back of her hand was smooth.

"Morning, Uncle Zhao."

At the entrance of the Jiahe Complex, Xu Qing greeted Uncle Zhao. Just as they were about to leave, Xu Qing remembered something. "Oh right, I haven’t seen Aunt Cheng for a while?"

"She’s staying at her daughter Xiaoli’s place for a while. Why?" Uncle Zhao huddled in the security booth, smoking. "Need something from her?"

"No, just asking."

Xu Qing held Jiang He’s hand and left. "Uncle Zhao, you should cut down on smoking."

"This smoke is the only thing keeping me alive."

Uncle Zhao joked behind them. Jiang He, taking small steps beside Xu Qing, curiously asked, "What’s that smoke?"

"It’s a form of entertainment. It stimulates the mind and can be addictive. It’s not a good thing."

"Then why do people smoke?"

"Because they like it." Xu Qing casually squeezed her hand. "Like how my hand is a bit cold, but I still want to hold yours—that’s liking."

"…"

Jiang He turned her head away. "Don’t say things like that."

"I’m just explaining. These things aren’t logical. Like moths to a flame—they like the fire."

Stopping at the bus stop, Xu Qing said, "There aren’t always reasons for everything. If you like something, you just do it."

"What if I don’t like it?" Jiang He asked.

"Didn’t I say yesterday? Not liking something isn’t logical either. If you don’t like it, you can just refuse me. It’s your freedom."

"I…"

Jiang He’s fingers twitched, but she said nothing, staring off in another direction.

A bus arrived. Xu Qing led her on board, tossed two coins into the fare box, and walked to the empty seats at the back.

As the bus started, the scenery outside flashed by the window.

"I’m just experiencing the joy you mentioned," Jiang He finally said, looking out the window.

"Yeah, I know."

Xu Qing nodded seriously, still holding her hand. This girl was a bit silly—took her forever to think of an excuse.

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