Mother Qin's pupils slowly dilated, gradually losing their light. It was the sign of death slowly approaching.
Father Qin was deeply moved. He gripped Mother Qin's hand in agitation and murmured into her ear, "Don't worry. I'll do everything you asked of me. I'll love both grandsons well, treat Ziran kindly, and make up for what you regret."
As if satisfied, Mother Qin slowly closed her eyes. The hands holding Qin Qingnan and Lin Ziran's also gradually loosened and slipped away.
With just one last breath, Mother Qin was gone.
Father Qin held Mother Qin's head tightly, sobbing his heart out. Afraid of frightening the two children, he forced all his cries back into his chest. Seen from behind, the old man was shattered by grief, his shoulders rising and falling without pause.
Qin Qingnan was even more grief-stricken. He clutched Mother Qin's hand tightly and slowly pressed his cheek against it, using this silent way to accompany his mother on her final journey.
