"Who are you two?"
Feng Yin scratched his head, somewhat confused like an innocent monk.
The beautiful young woman couldn't help but laugh, her eyes curving into crescents: "Young Master Feng, didn't you just save us yesterday? How have you forgotten us so quickly?"
"Saved you?"
Upon hearing this, Feng Yin had an epiphany, full of disbelief, it was all he could think about.
"Are you... Uncle Zhang? Aunt Zhang?"
The man and woman in front of him, beaming, nodded: "Yes, it's okay if you address us like that."
A sense of shock swelled up in Feng Yin, his mind in a whirlwind, he had hardly the time to take it all in.
It felt like a pleasant surprise out of nowhere.
How had the frail elderly couple, on the verge of death and ready to enter their coffins, their faces wearing the weight of time, suddenly transformed into... the young people before him?
"Young Master, shall we talk under the tree?"
The old man politely suggested.
"Young Master?"
