As he spoke these words, Baili's gaze was already tinged with mist and glistening tears. His voice was choked with emotion, and he released his grip on the armrest of the wheelchair. Standing before Zhou Xingyan, his tone was earnest and heartfelt. Only he knew how long he and his wife had yearned for this moment. For the past twenty years, they'd worried about their precious daughter—worried whether she was eating well, sleeping well, or living a satisfying life...
To the extent that, when dreaming, even a small hint of something going wrong would frighten them into waking up drenched in sweat. They would then lie awake, sleepless in a bedroom filled with unbearable sadness.
"You're my father? You're my mother? You're my sister?"
The young woman's eyes continued to sparkle and blink, clearly still working hard to process everything. Twenty years of absence was beginning to fill that void in this moment—not just for Zhou Xingyan but for anyone—it would require time.
