A brow arched slowly above the older woman's knowing gaze. "Still calling me that?"
Jiang Yue didn't answer, just met her eyes briefly before turning her head away, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her face. She drew a chair closer to the bed and sat without another word, the silence stretching—but not breaking.
Old Madam Luo let the matter rest. Instead, she reached out and gently patted Jiang Yue's hand, her fingers thin and gnarled but still warm. There was something grounding in the gesture—quiet assurance without pressure.
"You've been studying?" she asked lightly, her tone slipping into casual territory like well-worn slippers.
"Midterms are coming," Jiang Yue murmured, gaze fixed on the patterns in the rug.
"And my good-for-nothing grandson?" The older woman's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Is he being helpful, or still fluttering around like a headless chicken, getting in your way?"
That earned the faintest upward twitch of Jiang Yue's lips. "He's… present."
