"Don't worry, you’ll grow up healthy and strong. In the future, you’ll find a girl who loves you dearly, and you’ll even have a healthy baby."
Wang Anjian’s expression instantly fell.
"Brother Lin Ran, you’re lying to me. I know about my illness—if it doesn’t get cured, I can’t get married or have children."
Lin Ran was taken aback, surprised that a child could understand so much.
"You’ll get better. I just heard from your grandmother that they’ve found a matching bone marrow donor. You’re saved."
"Really?" Wang Anjian’s eyes widened in disbelief.
"Of course it’s true. So you need to focus on recovering. That way, the surgery will be successful…"
While Lin Ran was talking to Wang Anjian, outside, Uncle Fu was also doing his best.
No matter what Uncle Fu said, Granny Wang just kept crying, as if decades of pent-up emotions were bursting out all at once.
Those tears held both bitterness and sweetness.Bitterness for her fate, sweetness for her grandson’s salvation.
The sight of her weeping with such mixed emotions shattered Uncle Fu’s heart. He couldn’t take it anymore and pulled her into an embrace.
This hug, decades overdue, finally happened in this way.
"Dahua, you’ve suffered so much."
Granny Wang pushed him away.
If it hadn’t been for Zhang Laifu back then, she wouldn’t have been tied up by the villagers, nor would her father—the village chief—have had to kneel before them. But in those days, reputation mattered more than anything.
In the freezing water, she nearly lost her life multiple times.
Even after surviving, she endured endless scorn as her child grew up.
Finally, her son grew up, married, started a family, and built a career—Granny Wang had begun to see hope in life.
But then a car crash took everything from her. Her son and daughter-in-law both died in the accident.
At the time, Granny Wang almost ended her own life, but when she looked at little Wang Anjian, her heart softened.
Misfortune never comes alone—disaster always finds those already suffering.
Wang Anjian was diagnosed with leukemia, and Granny Wang felt like the sky was collapsing.
Now the boy was nine years old but had never even been to school.
"Don’t touch me. I, Wang Dahua, have made it this far without anyone’s pity."
For the first time, Uncle Fu understood what it meant to feel pain so deep it stole his breath.
"I… I… I’m sorry."
He didn’t need to imagine how hard this woman’s life had been all these years—it must have been unbearable.
Granny Wang ignored him and sat alone on a bench by the door.
"When you see Anjian later, I hope you won’t bring any negative emotions with you."
"I know. But Dahua, there are things I must say to you. For years, I’ve wanted to find the right moment, but I could never track you down."
"The truth is… I’ve always loved you deeply."
Just then, a pair of young passersby gave the handsome old man a strange look.
An old man confessing his love to an old woman—it felt odd to them.
But who said declarations of love had an age limit?
"Zhang Laifu, at your age, do you even believe the words coming out of your mouth?"
Uncle Fu ignored the onlookers and sat beside Granny Wang on the bench, though neither looked at the other.
He lowered his head, nervously tapping his fingers.
"I do. I know my own heart. Right now, all I feel is pain for you. All these years, raising your child alone, then raising your grandchild—playing both father and mother… it couldn’t have been easy."
"You’ve suffered so much. Do you remember the first time we met? My memory’s sharp—it was on the beach. I was badly injured."
As he spoke, a rare hint of happiness flickered across Uncle Fu’s face.
"I just kept looking at you, couldn’t take my eyes off you. Back then, you wore your hair in two long braids—so beautiful. And you had on a checkered dress with black cloth shoes, right?"
"You took me to an empty old house your family owned to recover. The second time we met, you brought me osmanthus buns you’d made yourself. The aroma! You even stuffed them with your homemade pickles. I told you it was the best meal I’d ever had, and you smiled—pure as gardenias."
Granny Wang felt her skin crawl at Uncle Fu’s overly sentimental words, yet they also stirred memories of her long-lost happiness.
So she listened quietly, her eyes gradually welling up.
Uncle Fu: "I ate every last bite. Then I asked you, ‘Aren’t you afraid the villagers will give you trouble for saving me?’ You said, ‘No, I’m not.’ That’s when I thought—how could a woman be so kind and brave? @#!�0�6%…"
"Later, you promised to come to the capital with me, but you never boarded the train. I watched you from the window as the light fell on you. I kept thinking, ‘Come on, hurry up.’ If only we could’ve lived together…"
"Stop." Granny Wang cut him off.
Tears glistened in her eyes as she glanced at him.
"I don’t need you to reminisce. What happened back then was my own choice—I never blamed you."
Uncle Fu sighed.
"Then tell me—why didn’t you come to the capital with me?"
Granny Wang closed her eyes. After a long pause, she spoke.
"You really want to know?"
"Of course. Back then, I never got to face it with you. Now I want to understand what you were up against. And I promised you I’d be a good man—I think I’ve kept that promise." As he spoke, Uncle Fu gently patted Granny Wang’s back.
Then, she began her story.
"The day of the train, my mother was the one who let me out. If I hadn’t gone back, she would’ve been punished by my father. When I left, I promised her I’d see you one last time—then never again."
Uncle Fu: "That’s all?"
"That’s all. Later, I found out I was pregnant. I regretted my decision and wanted to find you, but before I could, someone discovered my pregnancy—a doctor at the maternity hospital was from our village, and word got out."
"Then I was… well, you can guess the rest."
Uncle Fu: "Why didn’t you look for me after that?"
"Because after I was rescued, I started hating you. I hated you for making me leave my home, for making me too ashamed to return, for ruining my reputation."
"But most of all, I hated you for not jumping off that train and dragging me with you. Since that’s how it was, I swore I’d never find you—I’d let you die without knowing you had a son."
Uncle Fu’s pupils trembled at her words, but Granny Wang continued.
"Honestly… over the years, I wavered. I thought about finding you, but I could never bring myself to forgive you. Then my son and daughter-in-law died in that crash, and I gave up completely."