The door to the study room was slightly opened. Zhou Jing restrained his heart from beating wildly in his chest and gently opened the door.
The old lady leaned on the easy chair, her eyes lightly closed, holding a picture frame in her arms, and a cozy smile on her lips.
"Madam?" Zhou Jing shouted softly.
"Madam?" Zhou Jing patted her shoulder gently.
"Madam, wake up, you will catch a cold if you sleep like this."
The old lady seemed to be having a long and beautiful dream.
Zhou Jing gently approached the old lady's nose with his trembling hand.
The morning fog outside the window was hazy, and the sun was rising. Zhou Jing was stunned, and his tears fell to the ground.
He gently approached the painting held in the old lady's arms. On it was a little girl about eight or nine years old, wearing a white shirt and a high ponytail. She smiled unbridled at the painter, revealing a pointed little tiger tooth.
Signature——Zhou Yuebai, 1917.8.5