Ye Changqing looked at the young Alchemist before him and felt an inexplicable wave of kinship, as if he had seen him somewhere before, but he couldn't be certain. However, this feeling of closeness also made him develop a fondness for the young man.
Ye Changqing sat down opposite Ye Qingchen, a wide smile on his dark, weathered face. "Young man," he said, "please take a look at me. Lately, I've been feeling a persistent ache all over my body, but I don't know why."
Ye Qingchen fought back the tears that threatened to spill. He didn't dare say a word to the father he had longed to see, even in his dreams. If I speak, my tears will fall uncontrollably, and someone will realize something is wrong.
Ye Qingchen took his father's arm and began to take his pulse.
