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Chen's mother gestured for the person behind her to push the wheelchair to the bedside, and it was only with a close look at Si Chengye that she noticed the corners of his eyes, like hers, had gained a few more wrinkles.
In the past, she had both loved and hated him, but nearly thirty years of time had washed away almost all of her hatred, leaving only love behind.
Seeing him now, the affection in her heart intensified.
She had thought she'd never loved deeply, yet it turned out that love had seeped into her very bones without her realizing it.
Back then, he was young and promising, full of vigor. Now, he lay weakened and comatose in his hospital bed, and she couldn't help but lament how unforgiving time was.
Chen's mother's eyelashes trembled slightly, her eyes shimmering with tears.
She lifted her withered hand and slowly grasped his still generous palm. The moment their palms touched, it felt as if their hearts connected as well.