The middle-aged woman kept making calls, worried about Situ An.
No matter how formidable Situ An was on the outside, in her heart he would always be a child, a child who could get hurt, who could cause trouble, who could make people worry.
"Why hasn't he come home so late and not answering his phone? Has something happened to him?" The middle-aged woman dialed the number again with grave sincerity.
Gao Ming stood beside her, knowing that Situ An couldn't answer the phone and that he wouldn't be coming back, for Situ An was already in his heart.
"He must be busy; let's eat while we wait for him." The middle-aged woman put down the handset and once again went into the kitchen to serve the rice.
The phone had been hung up, but it seemed to Gao Ming as if the ringing continued to emanate from the depths of his heart, becoming clearer and clearer, as if waiting for Situ An to answer it.
What would happen if Situ An actually answered that call coming straight from the heart?
