The March evening breeze was cool; the candle flickering on the table in the courtyard was blown so wildly by the wind that it brightened and dimmed erratically, causing two small insects to fall into disarray, unsure which direction to dart toward.
Hua Xiaomai stood in the center of the courtyard, merely five steps away from her, Meng's mother sat with a face so gloomy it looked like rain was about to fall. She was very aware of what her mother-in-law wanted to say, and apart from anxiety, there was also a hint of annoyance within her. Almost subconsciously, she leaned closer to Meng Yuhuai's side.
