Su Qinglan and An Mo knelt side by side on soft cushions laid directly upon the stone path, facing the towering, ancient wooden gates of a secluded courtyard.
The heavy gates remained firmly closed, overgrown with moss and aged vines, yet the aura radiating from within was vast, ocean-like, and profoundly mysterious.
An Mo did all the talking, his deep voice carrying a rare, youthful warmth.
Beside him, Su Qinglan remained completely silent, offering her quiet, steadfast support. She did not know the true identity or full history of the person residing behind those closed doors…she only knew that he was An Mo's grandfather.
Though she found it strange that the old elder chose not to open the gates to meet them directly, she deeply respected An Mo's decision. She simply copied his posture, bending her body low and bowing with the utmost reverence to the elder of the man she loved.
