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“He should be in the Xiaohua Garden.”

Zheng Jun is a typical scholar, tending to his books and plants every day. All domestic matters, big or small, were taken care of by Madame Zheng, especially after their only daughter went missing, he practically stopped caring about everything.

“How many years have passed,” Dr. Jiang sighed, “he’s still the same. You’ve broken your heart for this family while he behaves as if nothing’s wrong.”

If not for Madame Zheng, the family would have fallen apart long ago.

“He’s suffering inside…”

Their only daughter was lost, and the youngest sister went mad.

No one knows the agony Zheng Jun suffers beneath his placid facade.

“He’s suffering? You tell me, aren’t you suffering too?” Dr. Jiang continued, “You really are lucky, Zheng Jun, to have such a wonderful wife.”

Madame Zheng chuckled, “Xiaoyan, be honest with me, how’s my health really? I’ve lived long enough to bear pretty much anything.”

“You’re really fine, stop overthinking,” Dr. Cao said while writing out a prescription.

Madame Zheng turned to Dr. Jiang, “Xiaoyan, do you remember how old Lingling was when you first brought her home?”

Dr. Jiang gave it some thought, “She was around 7, I think. I remember you had just lost Tingting, and Lingling’s arrival helped you out of your grief.”

Zheng Lingling wasn’t originally a Zheng.

Her name was Cao Lingrui, Madame Zheng’s sister’s daughter. A plane crash took away both of Lingling’s parents.

The disaster came so suddenly that Madame Zheng didn’t even have time to bid her sister and brother-in-law one last goodbye; not even their remains were found.

Fortunately, Zheng Lingling wasn’t on that plane.

After the disaster, Dr. Jiang crossed half the Pacific to bring Lingling to Madame Zheng’s side.

Both of them, one lost her parents, and the other lost her only daughter.

Having shared this sympathetic experience and being kin, Madame Zheng transferred all her affection from her biological daughter to Lingling.

She would welcome others with a smile in the day, like nothing was wrong, and would only sob in silence when the night was deep and still.

“Yes,” Madame Zheng looked out the window, an indescribable look in her eyes. “It’s been 33 years in the blink of an eye. Lingling has grown up, and Xianjing is now 19. I don’t have any more reservations.”

“Aqing, you need to continue searching for Tingting.” Dr. Jiang patted Madame Zheng’s hand.

“We’ll let fate decide.”

Dr. Jiang continued: “Aqing, at least you’re better off than me, you have a daughter. Even though Lingling isn’t blood-related, she’s so devoted. What about me? I fear when I die, no one will even know, just like Ms. Zhang.”

Ms. Zhang is a renowned figure in their circle.

She was very modern and romantic in her youth, pursuing the spiritual world. She never married and died at 55 from a sudden heart attack. She fell into a coma in her villa, and because there were no relatives or friends nearby, she wasn’t rescued in time, resulting in her death. Her death was only discovered a week later when the smell of her body started to permeate.

Older people without family or children tend to overthink and live in constant fear.

“That won’t happen.” Madame Zheng comforted Dr. Jiang and patted her hand, “Stop thinking nonsense. You still have your thoughtful nephews and nieces.”

Dr. Jiang sighed, “Aqing, I’ve recently thought about drawing up my will.”

Drawing up a will?

Madame Zheng looked unbelieving. Dr. Jiang was her age, about 61 this year, but was much healthier and had no known illnesses. Even she hadn’t yet thought about drawing up her will, why was Dr. Jiang doing so?

Outside the door, Zheng Xianjing, holding a tray with tea, was about to knock and enter. She stopped in her tracks and held her breath, listening to the conversation inside.

Dr. Jiang chuckled, “Honestly, I don’t have much money, just a five-figure number in my bank account, which is nothing to you.” Dr. Jiang is an average doctor without a distinguished background. She was just an ordinary person before meeting Madame Zheng.

Though it’s just a few ten-thousands of yuan, for an ordinary person, it’s still a huge sum.

After all, a bowl of noodles only costs three cents at this time.

“Speaking of which, Aqing, have you ever considered drawing up a will?” Dr. Jiang asked, “Accidents happen when you least expect them. Given the size of Zheng Family fortunes, it’s better to plan these things in advance.”