The art exhibition went smoothly, and Leh Ying returned to East Market, bringing cough lozenges for her grandmother.
Her grandmother, touching her head, struggled with her memory and couldn't remember her. One moment she called her Yingying, another moment she used her mother's maiden name, and yet another, she called her Bouncing. They conversed for a while before her grandmother had a moment of clarity, only to forget again shortly after. This comfortable and familiar life seemed like the place she was meant to be all her life.
When she was about to leave, she took two boxes of cough drops and put them in her bag. Her grandmother squinted at her actions, making her feel like a thief.
Leh Ying squatted beside her grandmother's wheelchair and explained, "I have a friend who loves to smoke, I'll let him try them."
"Take them," her grandmother said with a smile, her hand resting on her cane as she watched her. "Is he a very good friend?"
