"Huanhuan....." Ye Shuyun came over and put her hand on Yan Huan's hair, which she then gently caressed. The poor child. Who could be so hard-hearted as to treat a child without a mother in this way?
"It's all right." Ye Shuyun consoled Yan Huan.
"We will put your mother's ashes in the temple, and ask a senior monk to perform religious ceremonies to help her soul find peace, okay?"
"All right." Yan Huan gently caressed the bone ash box in her arms, just like how her mother held her when she was a child. But she could not do too much for her mother. What she had now, her mother could not feel nor enjoy.
Her mother was already cold, and this was a cold bone ash box. The ashes inside were long less than full.
And to a daughter, these things were actually her deepest, but also the most painful thoughts.
Because she already had no mother.
