With the wedding day drawing nearer, what seemed like many days turned into a blink of an eye, and it was the eve of the wedding. The Zhou family's courtyard was filled with dowry items, tied with red ribbons and covered with red cloths to protect against snow.
Xue Han ate her last dinner at home before getting married, and she found herself unable to eat despite all her favorite dishes being on the table.
Zhulan felt sentimental, her discomfort growing as her daughter's wedding day approached. Looking at her daughter in front of her, she felt a sourness in her nose, wanting to cry—it was hard to let go. The girl she raised by hand would become part of someone else's family tomorrow.
Lady Li tried to lighten the mood, "Little sister, eat more today. When you come back tomorrow, it will be to visit your mother's home."
Zhulan, "..."
On the surface, the words were right, but why did they sound so awkward?