Unexpected Second Chance at Love

Chapter 1017: The treasures time left behind

The laughter in the garden continued long after Yue Ling and Grandfather Ji decided to head inside.

Ji Jingxu and Gu Ting were still engaged in a snowball fight with the soldiers, while Inu raced between them, barking whenever someone threw snow in his direction.

Yue Ling brushed the remaining snow from her gloves before turning toward Lu Tian who had returned after the phone call.

”I’m going inside with Yeye to see the dress.”

Lu Tian glanced at Grandfather Ji then back at his wife.

”Should I come with you?”

She shook her head and laughed softly.

”Have you not heard the saying ’It’s bad luck to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding’?”

He studied her for a moment. He was confused at first but quickly understood and smiled.

”Alright.”

She smiled back at him.

”I’ll come find you afterward.”

”Take your time.”

He reached over and gently brushed a few snowflakes from her hair.

Grandfather Ji watched the exchange with quiet amusement.

For a man who commanded such influence and rarely yielded to anyone, Lu Tian was remarkably obedient when it came to his granddaughter.

The old general almost laughed.

Almost.

He decided to preserve the young man’s dignity.

”Come, Ah Ling,” he said instead. ”Let’s go see your dress.”

Yue Ling offered Lu Tian one last smile before slipping her arm through her grandfather’s.

Together, they made their way toward the mansion.

The moment they stepped into the warmth of the entrance hall,

Grandfather Ji began chuckling.

Yue Ling looked at him.

”What is it?”

He shook his head, still laughing.

”Didn’t I tell you not to ask me to come inside?”

She blinked.

”Yes?”

”And yet here we are.”

He looked at her knowingly.

”This is practically you telling me to come inside.”

Yue Ling stared at him for a moment.

Then she burst into laughter.

”Well...”

She tightened her arm around his.

”It worked, right?”

Grandfather Ji shook his head.

”You little schemer.”

She grinned.

”I learned from the best.”

”Oh? And who might that be?”

”You, of course.”

He laughed again.

”Then I suppose I have no one to blame but myself.”

Yue Ling gently guided him toward the staircase.

”Come on, Yeye.”

He allowed her to help him up, taking each step at a comfortable pace.

At the upper landing, Grandfather Ji led her toward the left corridor, where his study was located.

Yue Ling assumed the dress had been stored inside.

But when they reached the study, he continued walking.

She glanced at him.

”Yeye?”

”Just a little farther.”

They passed the study and approached the far end of the hallway.

Yue Ling slowed.

She had walked through this corridor countless times, yet she had never paid much attention to the extended section of wall beyond her grandfather’s study.

There was no visible door.

No handle.

Nothing to suggest another room existed behind it.

Grandfather Ji stopped.

Yue Ling looked between him and the wall.

”Where are we going?”

A small smile appeared on his face.

”Somewhere I haven’t shown you before.”

He placed his palm against the middle section of the wall and gave it a gentle push.

A faint click sounded.

The panel shifted inward.

Yue Ling’s eyes widened as the concealed door swung open.

”Yeye...”

Grandfather Ji chuckled.

”Come.”

He stepped inside.

Yue Ling followed.

The hidden room was neither particularly large nor small.

It was spacious enough to move comfortably between the shelves, yet intimate enough to feel like a private sanctuary.

A single window allowed natural light to spill across the floor, illuminating the carefully arranged belongings within.

The air was clean.

There was no lingering mustiness, no visible dust, and no sign that the room had been neglected.

Someone had clearly been maintaining it regularly.

Yue Ling slowly looked around.

Built-in shelves lined the walls, holding an assortment of objects.

Some were carefully displayed behind glass.

Others rested openly on polished wooden surfaces.

Framed photographs, books, jewelry boxes, old ornaments, and personal belongings.

At first, she simply stared.

Then recognition slowly dawned.

These were not ordinary antiques.

These were not the highly expensive items her grandfather collected.

These were things she remembered.

Things that had once belonged to her grandmother.

And her mother.

Her footsteps slowed.

She approached one of the shelves.

Resting upon it was an old sewing machine.

The model was decades old, its dark metal body decorated with faded gold detailing. Although the machine showed signs of age, it had been carefully preserved.

Yue Ling reached out.

Her fingertips gently traced its surface.

She remembered this machine.

She remembered sitting beside her grandmother, watching the needle move rhythmically through fabric.

The quiet sound of its mechanism.

The colorful threads arranged nearby.

The way her grandmother would occasionally stop sewing to ask whether she wanted to help.

A faint smile touched Yue Ling’s lips.

”Grandmother’s sewing machine...”

Grandfather Ji stood quietly behind her.

”She loved that old thing.”

Yue Ling nodded.

”She used to make clothes for us.”

”And blankets. Curtains. Little fabric toys.”

He chuckled.

”Sometimes she’d spend an entire afternoon making something you could have bought from a store.”

Yue Ling smiled.

”She said handmade things carried more love.”

Grandfather Ji’s expression softened.

”That sounds like her.”

He spoke with longing as he stared at the sewing machine. It carried memories filled with smiles and laughter.

”She wasn’t a professional but she used that old thing to make your mother’s wedding dress.”

Yue Ling’s heart clenched despite the small smile on her lips. She let her fingers linger on the machine before moving to the next shelf.

There, a bracelet stand held several jade bangles.

Some were pale green.

Others were a deeper, richer shade.

She recognized them immediately.

Her grandmother had worn them often.

Yue Ling remembered the gentle clinking sound they made whenever her grandmother reached for something or lifted a hand to brush the hair from her face.

She raised her fingers toward the stand.

Then stopped.

For some inexplicable reason, she could not bring herself to touch them.

They looked so delicate.

So irreplaceable.

As though one careless movement might cause them to shatter, taking the memories attached to them along with the broken pieces.

Her hand slowly lowered.

Grandfather Ji watched her without speaking.

He understood.

Yue Ling turned toward the shelves on the opposite wall.

She did not need to ask whose belongings they held.

Her mother’s presence seemed to linger in every carefully preserved object.

A familiar jewelry box.

Several books.

A framed photograph.

Small keepsakes that might have appeared insignificant to anyone else.

But to Yue Ling, they were fragments of a life she had lost too early.

Her gaze moved slowly along the shelves.

Then it stopped.

Resting horizontally on a display stand was a stick.

An ordinary wooden stick.

It was slightly curved, with a few uneven knots along its surface. One end had been worn smooth, while the other still resembled the broken tip of a tree branch.

The stand beneath it was the sort normally used to display a sword.

Yue Ling blinked.

She turned toward her grandfather.

He was already looking at it.

A distant smile appeared on his face.

”That was your mother’s favorite toy when she was six.”

Yue Ling looked back at the stick.

”Mom’s?”

Grandfather Ji chuckled.

”She found it in the garden one afternoon and decided it was a magical staff.”

He walked toward the shelf.

”According to her, it gave her the powers of a wizard.”

He paused.

”Not a witch. A wizard.”

Yue Ling laughed softly.

Grandfather Ji shook his head, smiling at the memory.

”She was very particular about that distinction. Anyone who called her a witch would receive a lecture.”

He stopped before the display.

”She carried it everywhere. To the garden, to the dining room, to school, even to bed.”

His smile deepened.

”We tried buying her proper toys, but she wanted none of them. That stick was apparently more powerful than anything money could buy.”

Yue Ling imagined her mother as a little girl, proudly waving a crooked branch while declaring herself a wizard.

The image brought a smile to her face.

Grandfather Ji slowly reached toward the stick.

His fingers hesitated before gently touching its surface.

”We could never convince her to throw it away.”

His voice grew quieter.

”And when she eventually decided she’d had enough of it...”

He paused.

His fingers rested against the wood.

”...I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.”

Yue Ling’s smile slowly faded.

She looked at her grandfather.

The way he touched the old branch was almost reverent.

As though it were something precious beyond measure.

And to him, it was.

She turned and looked around the room again.

It was not everything her grandmother and mother had owned.

There were no endless rows of possessions.

Only the things they had loved.

The things they had used.

The little objects that carried stories no one else would know unless Grandfather Ji told them.

He had saved them all.

Not because they were valuable.

But because they had belonged to the people he loved.

Yue Ling felt an ache spread through her chest.

She wondered how many nights her grandfather had entered this room alone.

How often he had stood before these shelves, remembering his wife and daughter.

How many times he had reached for something simply because it reminded him of their voices.

Their laughter.

Their presence.

She lowered her gaze.

If she had been in his place, she would have done the same.

Grandfather Ji released a quiet breath.

Then he withdrew his hand and turned away from the shelf.

”Come.”

He walked toward one side of the room.

”This is why we’re here.”

Yue Ling followed.

A long curtain hung against the wall, concealing something behind it.

Grandfather Ji stopped before it.

For a moment, he simply looked at the fabric.

Then he reached out and slowly drew the curtain apart.

Yue Ling went still.

Behind it stood a large glass display case.

And inside was a wedding dress.

The dress her grandmother made.

Her mother’s dress.

The wedding gown was an exquisite creation of ivory lace, combining timeless elegance with a graceful, feminine silhouette.

A delicate high neckline embraced the throat, its intricate floral lace extending across the shoulders and down the full-length, fitted sleeves.

The sheer lace allowed glimpses of skin beneath its elaborate embroidery, lending the otherwise modest design a subtle allure.

The structured bodice followed the natural curves of the figure, tapering into a beautifully defined waist before flowing into a softly flared A-line skirt. Delicate lace draped diagonally across the hips, creating gentle folds that added dimension and movement to the gown.

Intricate floral embroidery adorned the entire dress, with the lace patterns becoming more pronounced toward the hem. The skirt fell gracefully to the floor, extending into a subtle train that trailed behind the wearer.

The gown was neither excessively voluminous nor heavily embellished. Its beauty lay in the craftsmanship of its lace, the elegance of its fitted silhouette, and the softness of its flowing skirt.

It was a dress that commanded attention without demanding it—refined, romantic, and timeless.

Even after so many years, there was something breathtaking about its simplicity.

Yue Ling slowly approached the glass.

Her reflection appeared faintly over the ivory lace.

For several seconds, she could not speak.

She had seen photographs of her mother’s wedding.

She remembered the dress.

But seeing it before her now was entirely different.

The fabric.

The intricate details.

The gentle folds of the skirt.

Everything had been preserved as though the wedding had taken place only yesterday.

”Yeye...”

Her voice was barely audible.

Grandfather Ji stood beside her.

”Your mother designed the dress.”

His gaze settled on the gown.

”She never cared much for extravagant things. She wanted something elegant, something she could wear without feeling as though the dress was wearing her.”

A faint smile touched his lips.

”She looked beautiful in it.”

Yue Ling listened quietly.

”And your grandmother made it her life’s mission to carry it out.”

He chuckled softly.

”Your grandmother cried when your mother asked her to make it.”

Yue Ling’s eyes glistened.

”She did?”

”Of course. She was so happy.”

He looked at the gown.

”Your mother could have chosen any renowned designer to create her wedding dress, but she wanted your grandmother to be the one to bring her vision to life.”

His voice softened.

”And when An Ling walked into the garden wearing it...”

He stopped.

For a moment, the years seemed to fall away.

He could see his daughter again.

Her radiant smile.

The way she had held his arm.

The nervous excitement in her eyes as she looked toward Han Min Joon waiting for her.

Grandfather Ji swallowed.

”She looked so much like her mother.”

Yue Ling slowly lifted a hand and placed her palm against the glass.

Her eyes remained fixed on the dress.

Her grandmother had poured everything she had into making it.

Her mother had worn it when she married her father.

And now it stood before her, waiting.

”Can it still be worn?” she whispered.

Grandfather Ji turned toward her.

”Of course.”

He smiled.

”I’ve had it professionally preserved all these years. We’ll have someone examine the fabric and make whatever adjustments are necessary unless...”

He glanced at her.

”You want to take that upon yourself to do it.”

Yue Ling nodded faintly.

Her fingers remained against the glass.

”I want to wear it.”

Grandfather Ji’s eyes grew warm. Then his lips trembled into a smile.

”Then it is yours.”

He reached for her hand.

Yue Ling turned toward him.

Grandfather Ji gently enclosed her fingers between his own.

”I had always hoped this day would come.”

His voice was thick with emotion.

”That one day, I would see you standing in the same garden, wearing the dress your mother wore before you.”

Yue Ling’s eyes filled with tears.

He smiled at her.

”And now you’re giving this old man that chance.”

She shook her head.

”No, Yeye.”

Her voice trembled.

”You’re the one giving me something I thought I’d never have.”

She looked back at the gown.

For years, her parents had existed in photographs, memories, and the stories others told her.

But this dress was something her mother had touched.

Something she had worn on one of the happiest days of her life.

Yue Ling pressed her lips together.

”When I wear it...”

She paused.

”It’ll feel like they’re with me.”

Grandfather Ji’s expression crumpled slightly.

He drew her into his arms.

Yue Ling embraced him, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

For a long while, neither spoke.

The room remained quiet around them, filled with the treasured belongings of the women they had loved.

Finally, Grandfather Ji gently patted her back.

”They will be, Ah Ling.”

His voice was soft.

”In every memory. In every step you take.”

Yue Ling closed her eyes.

He held her a little tighter.

”And I’ll be there too.”

Her arms tightened around him.

”Promise?”

Grandfather Ji looked toward the wedding dress.

He knew better than anyone that some promises were beyond his control.

But he wanted to be there.

More than anything.

He wanted to see his granddaughter walk through the garden in that dress.

To place her hand in Lu Tian’s.

To know that she would be loved long after he was gone.

He gently kissed the top of her head.

”I’ll do everything I can, my child.”

Yue Ling remained in his embrace.

Beyond the window, the winter sunlight continued shining over Ji Mansion.

And behind the glass, the ivory wedding dress stood quietly among the memories of two generations, waiting to become part of a third.