A name was a simple yet significant part of one's identity. If his name wasn't Xu Feng, what could it be?
The question lingered in his mind like a persistent echo, reverberating through the corridors of his thoughts.
He was Feng. He wasn't as attached to the surname, but his given name felt like it had followed him for a long time. His grandmother had made the best decision.
So many pieces of his life, especially the ones that felt the most "right," seemed to revolve around his grandmother. She was the cornerstone of his family, her presence casting a comforting glow over even the darkest of days. She made his life as an "adopted child," bright and full of love.
Even to his underdeveloped, toddler brain, his grandmother was more outspoken than anyone else on both sides of his family, but she wasn't a typical village woman in the least.
