Fu Chan looked at the centuries-old tree in the courtyard, lush and verdant, its canopy spreading like an umbrella overhead.
The wind rustled through its dense leaves, bringing a soothing susurrus that eased the irritation and unease in his heart.
Yunhui heard the sound of his car and came out from the backyard, poured him a cup of tea, and gently asked, "You look pale. What's wrong?"
Fu Chan took the tea from her hand and drained it in one gulp.
"I've just been to the nursing home, and she still refuses to hand over the Chu Family Embroidery Manual."
Yunhui took the empty teacup from his hand and filled it again.
