His elbows pressed on his legs, his head hanging ever lower.
The tall silhouette didn't look frail, yet seemed overwhelmingly weathered.
Perhaps he was wrong from the very start.
Grandpa An was right; he wasn't worthy of An Li.
-
When Wen Changrong received a call from the An family, he was in a good mood, tending to the newly bought pot of orchids.
The orchid had just sprouted a flower bud, and he proudly showed it off to his wife.
Su Yingru was feeling bloated from breakfast and kept rubbing her stomach.
Aunt Zhou had just helped brew some hawthorn water when the phone rang.
Wen Changrong's phone vibrated loudly, but he didn't care, continuing to meticulously wipe the orchid leaves with a small towel, fearing any speck of dust might settle.
Su Yingru glanced at him several times and couldn't help but shout, "Your phone is ringing, aren't you going to answer it?"
