The maids bowed and retreated, leaving a tense silence in the room. Outside, the rain pattered against the courtyard stones, its steady rhythm almost masking the faint sound of a distant engine fading into the night, taking Yueyao farther and farther away from the Shen household.
Old Master Shen sat back slowly, his hands gripping the armrests as though letting go would make him collapse entirely. The shadows beneath his eyes deepened, making him look far older than he had that morning.
Across from him, Old Madam Shen dabbed at her cheeks with the edge of a silk handkerchief, her knuckles trembling. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came.
The low murmur of the hospital lobby carried on around them, nurses passing with clipped footsteps, the squeak of a gurney wheel, the soft chime of the elevator doors. None of it reached them.
Finally, Old Master Shen exhaled a long, weary breath.
