He slowly turned his head and looked at the tall tombstone, with layers of steps on both sides of the tombstone, all planted with colorful flowers.
A paradise on earth.
His gaze lingered on the portrait on the tombstone.
In the photo, the woman wore a floral qipao, with a slight smile at the corner of her mouth, so stunningly beautiful that she seemed unreal.
Ji Anning thought, her beauty must not just be about her appearance, because Mr. Charles and her grandfather, two successful men in society, couldn't possibly be attracted to mere appearances.
As time ticked by, Ji Anning constantly worried about Charles.
After about four or five more seconds, she walked over and took his hand, "Uncle, let's go first."
Only then did Ji Chicheng tear his gaze away from the tombstone, took a step forward, and bent down.
He reached out and pulled a weed from the pot of light purple flowers to the right of the tombstone, tucking it into his palm.
