"I'm sorry, Grandpa. I lost it. I couldn't control my emotions."
Zhang Yichen had never seen his grandfather lose his composure the way he did today. Maybe all those years of pent-up grievances buried deep in his heart were finally able to burst out on this day. He could remember it clearly, no matter what: his grandfather often sat there cradling a single photograph, silently shedding tears. When he was alone, he would hold that photo and whisper to himself. He shut himself away in his own little space; whenever he was outside, he was always so bright, so lovable, never letting his negative energy spill onto anyone. All he wanted was for others to be happy, to feel blessed. But behind their backs, how much pain did he shoulder alone? Yichen had never really stopped to think about that.
