"Doesn't your grandma also have children and grandchildren? She often mentions your grandpa to me, and every time she thinks of him, tears flow from her old eyes."
Erya felt her heart tighten slightly upon hearing this.
Grandpa was eight years older than Grandma, but he didn't just pass away eight years earlier than her.
Grandpa's life was too hard; he worked tirelessly throughout his life, never having a day of leisure.
After having children, he worked the fields day and night. Regardless of how fierce the midday sun was, he'd eat something simple and head back to work, unimpeded by weather, toiling day and night. There wasn't much grain, and he was reluctant to eat his fill, eventually working himself into illness and dying from it.
Grandma never spoke to Erya about how much she missed Grandpa. But every year during Qingming, when she burned incense at Grandpa's grave, tears would stream down her face.
