"What kind of dream?" Alexander Summers asked her.
"It's just…" Purple Summers didn't know where to start.
Should she say she dreamed of a child calling her mother?... It would be quite awkward.
"I dreamed of my grandmother," Purple Summers said sheepishly.
Alexander Summers raised an eyebrow slightly, "What's so shocking about dreaming of your grandmother?"
"Dreams are all a jumble of things, indescribable," Purple Summers defended, unwilling to bring up the child.
Alexander Summers wrapped his arms around her and lay down again, lazily saying, "It's a pity, I actually wish to dream of your grandmother as well, so at least I'd have met an elder."
Purple Summers couldn't help laughing, "No rush, you'll meet her soon enough."
...
On the first day of the lunar year, Purple Summers took Alexander Summers to the grave to pay homage to her grandmother.
