Jiang Silu watched the figures of Lu Fan and Jiang Yixia walking side-by-side toward the wet market. She turned to Jiang Sifan and said with a smile, "Brother, I don't think Mom hates Dad anymore. What about you?"
Jiang Sifan was taken aback by her words.
He stood at the entrance of the flower shop, hands in his pockets, watching his parents' retreating figures in silence for a good while.
The streetlights had just flickered on, casting an orange-yellow glow on the two of them. Jiang Yixia walked on the inside, while Lu Fan walked on the side closer to the road.
A distance of half a step separated them—not too far, not too close. They were like two parallel lines, or like two railroad tracks running alongside each other.
"Brother?" Jiang Silu called out.
"I don't know." Jiang Sifan withdrew his gaze, his voice a bit muffled. "Don't ask."
Jiang Silu looked at her brother's face and opened her mouth, wanting to say more.
Wen Wan gently tugged her sleeve and shook her head.
