"Qing Feng, my son..."
The voice was like a gentle spring breeze, akin to a flowing creek, filled with endless affection and longing.
Situ Qingfeng's whole body trembled violently, his eyes instantly turned red, and tears cascaded uncontrollably down his face.
"Mother... is it really you?"
His voice was hoarse as his hands instinctively reached out, only to pass through the woman's shadowy figure.
With pain in her eyes, the woman spoke softly.
"When your mother passed away, you were still in swaddling clothes, your little face wrinkled like a baby monkey not yet grown."
Saying this, she covered her mouth with a gentle laugh, but tears shimmered in her eyes.
"Unexpectedly, in the blink of an eye, you've grown to be so handsome."
Situ Qingfeng choked with emotions, words caught in his throat. Suddenly, the woman's expression turned solemn, and her delicate jade fingers lightly tapped his forehead.
"The time is tight; accept the inheritance first."
