Following which, Mo Qingche felt a little dizzy, and the next moment she realised that she was standing in front of her grandma’s grave.
Her grandma’s gravestone was hand-carved by her, but because she didn’t know the format for gravestones, she carved two simple sentences based on her own format.
"Grandpa, how did we…" A few words into her sentence, Mo Qingche stopped herself. Since her grandpa could bring her out of a building a few tens of storeys high, there was nothing unusual about bringing her to grandma’s grave in an instant.
She also didn’t dare to probe further as the sadness in Mo Wuji’s eyes was very apparent. In this moment, she felt like her grandpa: just a simple, ordinary person, not an immortal.
