How I Met His Mother

His late mother's portrait gazed down benevolently at Sun Jingwei and his new houseguest.

"Yep. You've got it." Jingwei smiled, it was softer and sweeter, yet a lot sadder than what she had ever seen from him. 

"Xue Ning, meet my mother, the lovely late Mrs Sun." 

"She is beautiful," Xue Ning said quietly, giving the painting another look, resisting the urge to bow in front of it to show respect. "But if you don't mind me asking, why a painting? Usually people frame photos instead." 

"Oh I didn't really have any photos of her. Father took them all away when she died." Jingwei said serenely, but one could still detect the faint way his voice wavered at the end. 

"... What?" Xue Ning asked in shock. "Are you serious? Took them away?"

"Yeah. I don't think he burned them, but Ge and I didn't get to see most of her photos." He shrugged. "I guess that was his way of coping with her death. He did love her very much."