Perhaps it wouldn’t be the usual case for other old folks, but my Grandma Shi, having been overly pampered, would likely do such a thing.
Fortunately, even though Grandma Shi was curious, she didn’t do anything disrespectful or embarrassing.
Upon hearing that Senior Sister might be really pretty, Grandma Shi beca exceptionally cheerful and attentive. While serving her food, she began to retell the embarrassing stories of Ling Yan’s childhood—stories she had already told Tang Wu countless tis before.
Even though Shi i had heard these stories many tis, after so many years had passed, she listened with great interest and seriousness now.
As these tales were brought up again, Ling Yan silently ate his al, occasionally eting the playful looks from others without a word.
After dinner, Shi i made a show of fighting to do the dishes, but of course, she failed.
It wasn’t long before Aunt Chen kicked her out.
Grandma Shi brought out a pile of photo albums from the study and said, "Ling Yan was such a handful back then, always running around, jumping here and there. When he was five, look, he got into so many scrapes, it broke his mother’s heart. She would cry while applying dicine on him, but this little rascal would just giggle and comfort her with a smile, really, I don’t know how he could have been so carefree back then."
Shi i had already heard about this from Grandma, and now she looked down at a photo that clearly felt very dated, unable to help smiling herself.
In the photo was a five-year-old Ling Yan and his mother, who had already left him at that age.
It was evident that Mrs. Shi was a gentle person.
"This photo was taken by his father," Grandma Shi’s voice sounded sowhat desolate, "less than a month after this photo was taken, they were caught in a fire tragedy."
Shi i knew this.
She felt a twinge of regret and sourness in her heart.
Turning the page in the album, there were photos of Ling Yan with his parents.
Back then, the young Ling Yan sat on his father’s broad shoulders, his radiant smile full of sunshine, his tiny hands making a peace sign.
His mother stood by, holding a toy, smiling helplessly but also looking at the cara.
Noting her gaze lingering on it, Grandma Shi said, "This was the last photo Ling Yan took with them. The next one below is the last family portrait of all five of us."
In the family portrait, Mr. Shi looked imposing, sitting with Old Lady Shi, who had a sharp, spirited gaze forward and a smile on her face.
Grandma Shi held Ling Yan in her arms, the grandson seemingly fond of making the peace sign, his two little hands doing it again as he grinned, showing off two rows of white teeth.
Behind the chairs, Mr. Shi and Mrs. Shi stood together, both harboring gentle smiles.
And Mr. Shi looked down at Mrs. Shi, who was smiling for the cara, his eyes filled with unabashed deep love.
Moved, Shi i felt an inexplicable sadness in her heart.
Mr. Shi must have loved Mrs. Shi very deeply, so much so that during the fire, he had thrown himself into the flas without hesitation, leaving behind a helpless child.
Turning another page, the photos showed Ling Yan growing up.
From a chubby adorable child to an expressionless teenager, and as he grew older, his features beca more profound.
He truly had grown up.
Completely different from when he was little.
His face devoid of even a hint of a smile.
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