Listening to the teasing of the old lady, Yan Huan couldn't help but smile slightly.
But looking at the peach blossoms blooming above, the old lady sighed softly and said,
"Sometimes I wonder, if this tree had a spirit, would it resent me."
"Resent you?"
"Yes, even though I planted it just to admire its beautiful flowers. It tried so hard to bear fruit, yet I have never tasted them..."
Yan Huan looked at the regretful old woman before him and suddenly realized that her true regret wasn't about this peach tree but her husband who had passed away.
After all, you can choose not to look at or eat the flowers and fruits of a peach tree.
But the fruits of human emotions cannot be...
Thinking deeply, Yan Huan's expression suddenly froze.
He gazed blankly at the peach tree blooming in the night breeze before him, inevitably glancing at the green fruit in the old lady's hand.
"..."
He remained silent for a long time, neither speaking nor shifting his gaze.
