The desolation of not being able to see Qianxue for the last time before death became an everlasting regret as his eyes closed for the final time. When grandma passed away, poor Qianxue was lying on the hospital bed, being resuscitated, almost joining grandma in death.
"Qianxue, grandma is doing well at the sanatorium, and once you're better, I'll take you to see her." He was terribly afraid that the news of grandma's passing would cast this fragile woman back into hell—as she had just returned from a close brush with death.
"Okay," Qianxue cuddled in his embrace, as quiet as a little kitten.
Snow began to fall from the sky, granules, one by one, falling inside the collar of his coat, piercingly cold and painful.
Leng Chenxuan stood at the doorstep of the apartment, bracing against the bitter wind, unable to step inside. His hand lifted, reaching out toward the gate, only to fall back weakly.
