With the years piled on her, it was hard to tell just how and where she was similar to Yan Qingsi. However, when she saw her, Yan Qingsi's nose began to burn.
Grandma Xia's skinny wrist was practically skin and bones. The shape of the needle of the IV drip that was pierced into her vein could even be made out.
Xia Anlan bent over. "Mom, it's Anlan," he said into Grandma Xia's ear, "I have good news for you. It's probably something you've been wanting to hear the most for decades.
"Mom, Little Ai did not die at that time. She even gave you a granddaughter. Look… This child looks exactly like you when you were younger. Weren't you unable to let go of Little Ai? Then wake up and take a look at Qingsi. It's like seeing Little Ai. This child is just as pretty as Little Ai."
Xia Anlan raised his head. "Qingsi… Come over," he told Yan Qingsi, "talk to your grandmother. Let her hear your voice."
