He was stunned for a moment, a bit incredulous: "You're married?"
She laughed again, reached out, and flicked his forehead, saying, "Little kid, I'm already twenty-seven, what do you think?"
Twenty-seven, this was beyond Yu Dou's expectations; he always thought she was at most in her early twenties.
Even if she wasn't in her early twenties, it wouldn't matter, but she was already married, and had a child.
He didn't say a word, or perhaps, didn't know what to say.
Deep down, he felt a vague sense of loss.
A fifteen-year-old boy, with budding emotions inside, was something even he couldn't realize.
It wasn't until years later, when he grew up a bit, that he gradually understood what that moment of shock and loss represented.
That day, Xu Hua went with him to his grandmother's grave and solemnly said sorry to his grandmother.
Yu Dou watched from the side, only to feel a slight sourness in his heart.
