Zhao Hanzhang finished asking all the questions she could think of, but still felt no sleepiness. She didn't want to keep the Posthouse Minister talking, so she waved him away.
She picked up the small bamboo basket filled with steamed buns and headed next door, where Fu Tinghan was sitting by Fu Zhi's bedside in a daze.
Hearing the door push open, he turned his head to look at her.
Zhao Hanzhang handed him the small bamboo raft and said softly, "Have some to eat."
Fu Tinghan reached out to take it but remained seated without moving, "I was young when my parents passed away, and I don't have many memories. I only saw my grandfather off. I was sad then because he couldn't be at ease leaving me, and I feel very guilty for not letting him leave peacefully."
His gaze fell on Fu Zhi, who, even in a deep sleep, had his brows furrowed, with visible sorrow on his face, "So many years have passed, and I find myself in the same dilemma."
Zhao Hanzhang listened quietly, saying nothing.
