The streets and alleys were adorned with rich cultural decorations, completely disrupting the lingering memories in my mind.
Fortunately, this village had only been transformed into a tourist spot, not completely torn down and rebuilt. The layout of the buildings was still based on the original foundations.
After a while, my mother, who had finally figured out the directions, led me through a series of turns until we arrived at the alley next to the ancestral hall, where my grandparents lived.
I didn’t know whether they had gotten the news ahead of time, but they were waiting at the door early. Several relatives, also eager for gossip, leaned against the walls nearby, all wearing an expression of watching the spectacle.
As soon as my mother and I walked over, those relatives immediately huddled together, casting strange looks at us.
Their moving lips, just like the devilish characters in cartoons, spewed venomous words as they commented on my mother and me.
At times like this, I could only resent that my hearing was too sharp, always picking up these unpleasant sounds.
Unfortunately, I was too weak. As someone who was hopeless at arguing, I couldn’t out-talk them, and even if I wanted to fight, I’d probably lose against so many people. With my catgirl physique, at best I could take down one person before running out of breath.
Compared to my tightly furrowed brow and angry, clenched fists, my mother appeared exceptionally calm, as if used to these gossiping relatives connected by blood. She couldn’t even be bothered to look at them, walking straight into the alley.
The relatives were surprisingly considerate, deliberately making way for us and giving up a clear path, which left me without the excuse to shove past them while saying, ‘Make way for us’—what a pity.
“Yuan’er, you’re back.”
Grandpa and Grandma stood side by side at the threshold. Grandpa, leaning on his cane, grinned wide, revealing several gold teeth that flashed glaringly in the sunlight.
Mother, being called by her father like this, let her expression soften a little for once.
She nodded slightly and let out a perfunctory “Mm” through her nose, then turned and firmly gripped my wrist, dragging me into the house.
Grandma, as always, kept her head low and eyes gentle. Once we and Grandpa were inside, she shut the door tightly, shutting out all the prying relatives. Their chatter outside only grew louder.
Lingering behind, I quietly observed Grandma. The catgirl features on her had almost faded to nothing; her tail curled up and tucked into her clothes, and the cat ears on her head lay flat against her neatly combed, pale hair.
Even at her age, Grandma always kept herself neat and tidy, with a kindly, gentle face. I could tell that in her youth, she must have been a beautiful catgirl.
As soon as we entered the courtyard, Mother mercilessly released my wrist, then glared fiercely at Grandpa, her voice cold and sharp.
“Get inside. We need to talk.”
Perhaps age had finally caught up with him. The once-tall and domineering Grandpa was now slightly hunched. Even after being addressed so harshly by Mother, he only gave a forced smile and bowed his back, tapping his cane—“ka-da, ka-da”—as he followed her into the main house.
Grandma didn’t go in. She was much healthier than Grandpa; you could only spot a faint weakness in her back if you looked from the side.
“Xiaozhinian… how have you been? Grandma hasn’t seen you in so long. You’ve grown so big now.”
Grandma’s face always carried a cheerful smile, so gentle she seemed like the model elder in a charity fantasy drama.
Thinking back, I really couldn’t recall ever seeing Grandma angry. She always had a slightly ingratiating smile for Grandpa and treated my mother and me the same way, as if she owed us something.
Whenever Grandpa was around, she rarely spoke, simply following behind him in silence, doing whatever tasks he assigned.
Only when it was just the two of us would she remember her role as ‘Grandma,’ gently straightening my clothes and asking whether I’d eaten.
It was a pity that, back when Grandpa tried to sell me to the widow in the next village, Grandma simply sat in the corner without a word, head down, focused intently on threading a needle.
I could tell the scarf she was working on was meant for me to wear to school, but I was about to be sent away, and still, Grandma didn’t say a word… All I could see was her still-spirited cat tail, tapping the floor anxiously.
“Xiaozhinian? Are you feeling unwell? Or are you hungry? Do you want to go rest for a while?”
Perhaps because I hadn’t replied for a long time, Grandma’s voice grew even softer, her cloudy, red-glass-bead-like eyes cast downward, as if she was talking to herself.
“It’s fine, Grandma. You go inside and sit down. I’ll just space out in the yard for a bit.”
When I used to live in this house, I’d often cling to Grandma, chattering away and pestering her to buy me candy or little snacks. Every time, she would smile and dig out a handful of crumpled bills or coins from her pocket, then pick out a small amount to hand me.
But it’s been too long. Now that I’m nearly an adult, my feelings for Grandma have been worn down to scattered pieces. It’s hard to summon any interest in small talk with her.
I know that coming back home today wasn’t for reminiscing with Grandma. That father whom I haven’t seen in so long is probably at Grandpa and Grandma’s house nearby.
“Ah… I won’t go in. Your mother and Grandpa are discussing serious matters inside. I’d just get in the way.”
Grandma walked slowly over to the flowerbed and sat on its edge, finally letting out a long sigh.
Then she raised her hand and pointed into the distance. Following the direction of her finger, I saw a small swing made of vines.
“Zhinian, go sit over there… When your father was fixing the house for us, I specifically asked him to build that swing for you. I still remember when you were little, you always wanted to play on the swings in the city park. But Grandma didn’t have the money, and I didn’t know how to buy tickets or take you there to play…”
“………Thank you.”
After a moment of silence, I forced myself to say those words of gratitude, then walked over and sat on the beautifully woven vine swing.
When I used to live with Father in Huacheng, I did love swinging—mostly because he would push me from behind, so I could soar up and down without a care in the world.
Sitting here now, though, I felt little emotion. It was just that Grandma had always doted on me.
But time is merciless. With so many years apart, and our family’s complicated situation, it had long been decided that we could never be as close as a normal grandmother and granddaughter.