Jiangcheng.
Zhan Family, Spirit Hall.
Zhan Hanjue sat by the coffin, repeatedly stroking it.
In just a few days, he had lost a lot of weight, his eyes were lifeless, and his face was a pallid blue. The stubble around his lips hadn't been tended to in a while, giving him a disheveled and messy appearance that made people feel sorry for him.
Mrs. Chen supported Old Mrs. Zhan as they walked in.
Seeing Zhan Hanjue in this state, Old Mrs. Zhan sighed with heartache.
"Hanjue, don't keep vigil here. It's been three days and nights straight, and keeping watch won't bring Ningwan back. Do you want your grandmother to once again live through the pain of burying a younger generation? Ningwan has always been a sensible child; if she knew you were like this, it would break her heart." Old Mrs. Zhan comforted Zhan Hanjue as she broke into sobs herself.
