The elder left.
He hobbled away while age bore down on his shoulders. He slowly disappeared into the spring of the other riverbank until even his shadow could no longer see be seen. Then, Su Ming's vision became blurry.
That blurriness was not because the figure was gradually leaving into the distance, but because of the tears in Su Ming's eyes. They turned the world before his eyes into a blurry screen of rain. He could no longer see clearly.
Maybe because of that, his memories became sharper, and so did his hopes for the future. They were like the veins of an autumn leaf, and he wanted to count them clearly. He had to do it well.
In the blink of an eye, another ten years passed. Su Ming had already lived through ninety-something years in that world. His appearance became older, and more wrinkles showed up on his face. The ancient air exuding from his body could already be compared to the wooden house.
