At the doorway, the villagers had already dispersed and the Lin Family's two households were awaiting their arrival.
Li Fangmei was over eighty years old, her hair sparse and streaked with white, her face etched with the toil of hard work, yet her spine was still ramrod straight, without a hint of stoop. Seeing Lin Xiaoguai, her dim eyes shone with warmth. She grasped Lin Xiaoguai's hand and repeatedly said, "It's good that you're alright, good that you're alright."
Her grip was tight, and her withered arms trembled slightly.
