Even he himself was caught in the triangular relationship between science, art, and mysticism, unable to grasp it.
The sound of two people walking came from the bedroom, and Li Zhiyuan put the memorial photo back, sticking it behind him, ready to let it fall again when he gets up later to find an opportunity to ask questions.
Professor Zhu helped his wife out.
The elderly couple shared the same surname, Zhu.
Mrs. Zhu, after being called upon earlier, had probably tidied up and dressed a bit, but her face still showed signs of infirmity.
She was truly in her twilight years, possibly not old in age, but her body was approaching a certain critical point.
"Hello, Grandma Zhu."
Li Zhiyuan stood up to greet, and the memorial photo fell down again behind him.
Mrs. Zhu looked at Li Zhiyuan with a smile, gently patting her husband's hand, said:
"You were right, this child indeed looks handsome, there's a scholarly aura about him that's quite likable."
