Chen Jiahang cried. He burst into tears the moment he saw his parents come out. Nine years. They hadn't seen each other for nine years. He hadn't expected his parents to be so old.
His mother, who used to be so graceful and beautiful, was now gray-haired. His father, who used to be so energetic, now needed a crutch.
Chen Jiahang felt heartbroken as if there was a stone heavily pressing against his chest. The tears, like flood breaking the dam, surging out of his eyes.
"Shaoqian..." Yang Yun called again. She bit her lips tightly, which even bleed. She patted her son on the back and said, "Shaoqian, am I dreaming? You must be missing home, so you came back in my dream, right?"
Yang Yun couldn't believe what she saw. The person before her eyes was indeed her child, but her child had been dead for nine years, so she must be dreaming. She missed her child so much that she had such a dream again.
