"Mr. Li, you are not keeping a low profile anymore." She poked Li Yanchen in the arm.
He smiled. "I went to the hospital for a short time, just over an hour. I saw someone chasing after the doctor, asking if there was any way to treat someone dear to them. At that moment, I realized that life is short. Our memories will fade away like a wisp of smoke. We can only leave stories behind to be remembered. If our story is written down, we'll continue to exist."
"Mr. Li, you're quite the philosopher, aren't you?" asked Lin Wan.
"Well said!" Li Meng chimed in.
"Now I understand why so many people write their biographies," said Li Yanchen.
"If you agree with it, then I don't mind either," said Lin Wan.
As night fell, the Li family's courtyard was adorned with colorful lights.
Lin Wan observed Xia Mo's cooking. Her style was similar to Auntie Huang's. Lin Wan felt that she cooked similarly, so why did her food turn out so bad?
