Everyone was chatting in the yard when Qiaoqiao suddenly said this, and all eyes immediately turned towards Aunt Lianhua.
She was a woman who never stopped working at home, yet her presence wasn't very pronounced.
Aunt Lianhua was fifty-two this year, with graying, thinning hair. Her face was round, and when she smiled, wrinkles creased her face. Short in stature, she constantly moved about, never seeming to rest, like an inexhaustible power generator.
But at this moment, this sincerely honest person had red-rimmed eyes and a sour nose. For some reason, even though crying might make her a laughingstock, she could not hold back the tears...
"I... I..."
She wiped them away clumsily, wanting to say something, yet choked with sobs and couldn't speak.
Qiaoqiao, somewhat at a loss, let out an "Ah" and was about to ask something when Song Tan spoke up directly:
