Upon exiting the room, he saw a man standing in the courtyard wearing a blue changpao, with a slim and tall stature. His oversized sleeves billowed as the wind entered the courtyard, emphasizing his crane-like figure and an indescribable air about him.
He stood out like a flowerpot placed in a vegetable patch or a goose that wandered into a chicken coop – glaringly out of place.
The man, with his back to the door, joined his hands behind him and bent over with great interest to examine the jasmine flowers by the entrance; all the while, he chatted with Wang Laozhu, seemingly indifferent: "It's been quite some days since I last returned. The home appears tidier than before, and these jasmine flowers are quite exceptional – they have a certain vitality! Although as a son I'm unable to serve my parents at home, seeing that they still have such delightful hobbies sets my mind at ease."
That voice, it couldn't be anyone else but Wang Yongan who only returned once a year.
