His mother sat on the sofa, her chest straight as if she were a sculpture, facing in some unknown direction.
"Mom—" Chen Jiaming fell to his knees, reaching out, wanting to embrace his mother.
Mrs. Chen did not collapse, she just continued to sit there, her limbs stiff.
Finally hearing the commotion, the housemaid, the old cook, and others hurried over to help. When they saw the scene in the living room, they were shocked and burst into tears on the spot.
"Madam, madam—"
Mrs. Chen's statue-like posture remained unchanged.
Everyone gathered around Mrs. Chen was stunned by her appearance, not daring to approach.
It wasn't until the family doctor arrived, having received Chen Jiaming's plea for help, that he saw the scene. He gently pushed through the crowd to the center and lightly touched Mrs. Chen's eyelid.
Mrs. Chen closed her eyes, and her whole body finally slumped down.
Holding his mother in his arms, Chen Jiaming was already in a daze.
Dead? Just like that?
