After many years, similar history repeats itself.
The same train station platform.
The same green train... and the same red-eyed Mother Zhang.
Zhou Jiao stands outside the train window, one hand held by her mother-in-law, the other grasping the window ledge, and watches as the other hand of the big hand already has two small age spots on the left holding the big hand.
The owner of the big hand is whining to the old mother, "Mom, I have to come at least once a year. When I can't go back during long holidays, I miss you and Dad and can't stay away from you."
"Alright."
"Spend what you need to when you go back, buy whatever you want if you don't have enough money, contact me. If you're feeling unhappy, call me, hang up when you get through, and I'll call you back. Did you save the notes well?"
"Uh-huh, I remember everything. You're even more talkative than your dad."
Zhou Jiao chuckled as she watched this mother and son.
