Xia Jingshu slightly pursed her lips, her gaze was as soft as water. Her eyes showed indifference to face death with equanimity.
She nodded to her son in acquiescence.
"Mum, did you forgive dad?" Ye Hao sat beside his mother, looking at her in doubt.
Only he knew that his mother had hated father for so many years and thus, for the past thirty years, she never wanted to see him. Father would come to see them on New Year's Day and their birthday, but mum had never opened the door.
Xia Jingshu smiled at her son, reached out and patted his firm shoulder.
"Yes." She nodded again.
Her greatest joy in life was having such a sensible and capable son. He was her only source of happiness.
