Wen Wanzhi bought a bunch of fresh lilies of the valley on her way, their small white flowers diffusing a light fragrance; her grandfather would certainly have loved them.
Stepping onto the small path in the cemetery once more, Wen Wanzhi felt as though she was in a different world.
After she had last bid farewell to her grandfather here, she had never returned.
With practiced ease, she arrived at a secluded area of the cemetery. Next to her grandfather's headstone was another, smaller one.
Wen Wanzhi approached and saw her own little black-and-white photograph.
In front of the two headstones, nothing was out of place, except for two bunches of withered gardenia flowers.
Wen Wanzhi thought for a moment, then placed one of the lilies on her own stone.
She remained silent without a word.
These two flowers were like a farewell to her former self.
Standing before her grandfather's headstone, Wen Wanzhi reached out to brush away the dust and laid down the fresh flowers.