She stepped out onto the balcony.
Yang Xinyi leaned on the railing, looking at the potted plants on the balcony. Flowers were in bloom, green grass thrived, and a cactus bristled with thorns. From here, she could see the hospital garden in the morning light.
On the walkway, many patients and their families were taking a stroll. Some hobbled on crutches, some were being supported by others, and some were in wheelchairs.
There was an elderly couple, both with silvery-white hair and well into their seventies. The man sat in a wheelchair, his expression vacant, a symptom of having had a stroke. The old woman pushed him, talking to him incessantly, as if he could hear her.
Witnessing these scenes, Yang Xinyi was deeply touched.
In this world, what could be more important than growing old together? And what could be more important than health?
