Qiao En's wedding with Ding Hao had not gone through, so strictly speaking, she was not yet a part of the Ding Family.
So, when she died, her ashes could not be interred in the Ding Family's cemetery.
Her funeral services were very simple, held at a small funeral home.
When Zhou Jin'an rushed over, the place was very quiet.
Qiao's father leaned on his wheelchair, staring dumbly at the still black-and-white photo.
Qiao's mother bent over, crying while burning paper money.
"Madam Qiao, please restrain your grief!"
Cheng Lu accompanied Zhou Jin'an in, and when Qiao's mother looked up at them, her lips trembled and tears streamed down like fountains.
"My daughter is dead, what are you doing here?"
She seemed unwilling to see Zhou Jin'an.
"She is not dead."
Zhou Jin'an said with conviction.
She was so strong, so optimistic, how could she possibly just die so easily?
But Qiao's mother did not listen to him.
Cheng Lu handed her a thick envelope.
