In the evening, Fu Ying ran over with a quilt to sleep with her grandmother.
They talked quite late into the night.
By almost ten o'clock, the old lady was still spirited, recounting life during their era, which wasn't as prosperous as now and lacked the glitz and glamour of nightlife.
Fu Ying listened quietly, occasionally agreeing with what was said.
Her grandmother mentioned the story of her and her grandfather again.
She never tired of telling it, and Fu Ying never tired of listening.
When she finished, she would laugh shyly as if the events of ten years ago had occurred just a second earlier.
Sadly, her grandfather had passed away a long time ago.
As Fu Ying listened, she slowly closed her eyes.
Unable to sleep, her grandmother sang a lullaby to soothe her.
Her grandmother's palms lightly patted her, and soon, she drifted off to sleep.
Her grandmother looked at her and smiled.
With old hands, she gently touched Fu Ying's little face, eyes filled with tenderness.
