*Runze's POV*
The sitting room is very quiet for a house full of people.
Mrs. Wen has been moving in and out all morning, setting down plates and cups and small dishes that I pick at without tasting. Ling Yue sits at the other end of the sofa, his legs tucked under him, his phone face-down on the cushion beside him. I appreciate the solidarity even if neither of us says so out loud.
Grandmother occupies the armchair nearest the window, a book open across her lap.
She has been on the same page for forty minutes.
I know because I have been watching her without meaning to, the way you watch something when your mind has nothing else to hold onto.
Her posture is impeccable as always. Spine straight, chin level, the picture of composed authority. A few minutes earlier, she had looked directly at me and told me not to be frightened.
"You're a Wuchen. What is there to be afraid of?"
