Dumb Granny's eyes, deep like tranquil pools, were filled with the vicissitudes of years and unspoken wisdom. She did not respond with her voice but with practiced and rhythmic gestures, commanding the servants around her.
The servants, as if dancers in countless tacit rehearsals, executed each minute action swiftly and precisely.
In this mansion, Dumb Granny's sign language was not just a means of communication but seemed to have become an art of silent language, flowing through everyone's heart and building an invisible bridge.
Su Yu, the genuinely innocent Da Ya, and the kind yet slightly mysterious Dumb Granny sat around an ancient round table, surrounded by a lavish array of dishes, with fragrances filling the air. Especially striking were the just-steamed sticky rice dumplings, wrapped in green bamboo leaves, emitting an irresistible enticing aroma that seemed to sweeten the air itself.