Lyra Smith saw a persimmon tree.
It wasn't very tall, but its branches and leaves were lush and dense. At this time of the season, green persimmons hung from the branches. In another month, these persimmons would be ripe for picking.
Lyra raised her hand, pointed at the persimmon tree, and asked Henry Lee, "Grandpa, is this the tree you were talking about? Is this the persimmon tree my grandma planted?"
"No." Henry Lee pointed to a small tree beside him, only half his height, and said, "It's this one."
When Lyra saw the tree: "..."
Due to her limited knowledge of tree species, she couldn't tell what kind of tree it was at first glance. She walked over and stared at the short tree for a few moments: "...What kind of tree is this?"
Forgive her poor eyesight, she couldn't make it out.
Henry Lee leaned on his cane with both hands and chuckled, telling Lyra, "It's a pomegranate tree."
Lyra's reaction was obviously disbelief: "This is a pomegranate tree?"
Henry Lee nodded.
