Yong gingerly walked upto Ruolan's side and smiled at her. "Aunt."
Ruolan, who seemed to be in her mid-fifties, didn't respond to Yong's call. Her gaze was fixed at the distant horizon outside the window. A lock of grey, wrinkly hair fluttered past her eyes and cheek which she didn't bother to tuck behind her ear. Amidst the hustle and bustle of Huayuan's festival, she remained deathly silent, her beautiful face devoid of any expression.
"Did you not like the food she brought? Should I bring something else for you?"
No response.
Jia glanced at Mingshen questioningly. He, too, studied her for several moments. His head slightly tipped to the side.
Bojing asked, "I-Is she hurt anywhere?"
Mingshen whispered to Jia. "It seems like she is going through some emotional turmoil seeing her unresponsive like that."
Yong let out a small breath, a glint of defeat passing by her eyes. She placed the tray in front of her and patted her hand.
"I will drop by again sometime, okay?"
