A wisp of night wind brushed past my ear.
Carrying the unique, subtle sorrow of the graveyard, it seemed like a response from Mr. and Mrs. Wen to their son.
Wen Jin gazed at the fond smiles of his parents on the tombstone, a slight smile unconsciously forming at the corner of his handsome lips, his gentle voice dissipating into the night wind, "Dad, Mom, unbeknownst to me, you've been gone for several years. Even now, I'm still not used to spending the New Year alone..."
Used to New Year's with his parents, used to family reunions.
In these past few years, though he spent New Year with everyone, Wen Jin still felt the house was too quiet when he returned home.
In that quiet house, there was no sound of his parents.
He didn't even want to go back home. He squatted down, opened the wine he brought, and poured each of his parents a glass. "Dad, Mom, I didn't bring you food tonight, I'll make you a few dishes tomorrow..."
