"My father passed away three years ago, and my mother passed away two months ago."
Wang Ying stood beside Xiao Mo and spoke slowly.
The little girl who had once shared a steamed bun with Xiao Mo was now a grown woman, married to a family in Qingshan City.
In fact, Wang Ying's daughter was already seven or eight years old.
"I never thought the village chief's and Aunt Chen's graves would be next to each other," Xiao Mo said with a smile. "I remember how Aunt Chen was always complaining to me that she'd married the wrong man, and that when she died, she was going to be buried far away from that old coot of hers."
Wang Ying smiled as well. "Yes, that was Mother for you. But when Father passed, she was the one who cried the hardest. Before she left us, she specifically told me to place her grave right beside his..."
Xiao Mo crouched down and placed a jar of wine before the gravestone. "Perhaps this is what it means to be husband and wife..."
