Liu Xiue's hand hanging at her side tightly gripped the table in front of her, her knuckles turning white, a faint pain in her heart.
She knew Zhao Dazhuang too well. If he couldn't accompany the old lady through her final journey, he would carry guilt and remorse for the rest of his life, never able to free himself.
She turned to look at her husband. In just a few short days, Zhao Dazhuang was like an eggplant struck by frost, wilting and almost shriveling into a cluster. The deep lines carved by his frown only emphasized the sorrow and reluctance in his eyes all the more.
Liu Xiue looked at Zhao Dazhuang, feeling both heartache and sadness. Honestly, moving back south wouldn't be bad either. It's close to her parents' home, and she hasn't visited in so many years. She also misses them desperately. She's been busy taking care of her mother-in-law lately, without a moment to spare for a visit.
