The cold wind howled and snow swirled chaotically. The small tavern, looking shabby and devoid of customers, sat at the corner of the street.
Years had passed since they last met, and Old Man Jiang looked even older now. His hair was completely white, and the wrinkles on his face had multiplied.
The tables and chairs were already immaculate, yet he continued to wipe them slowly. His cloudy, old eyes seemed filled with reminiscence, lost in memories, his expression somewhat dazed.
He wore very old, patched clothes, and his hands were covered in calluses. His movements were slow, his back already bent, his white hair sparse.
Seeing this, Ye Fan felt a pang in his heart. Why is it like this? The Jiang Family brought the old man and his granddaughter to the northern region; why is their life still so difficult?
