The hospital's diagnosis was in Han Fei's pocket as he entered the kitchen, standing next to his wife.
Clear water flowed from the faucet, washing away the grease and suds from the plates, every spot wiped by his wife became as clean and bright as a mirror.
"Do you already know?"
Han Fei looked at his wife's hands. She was several years younger than Fu Yi, but her hands were even rougher than Fu Yi's.
"Know what?"
One by one, the plates and bowls were placed back into the cupboard. After her adept washing, his wife began cleaning the kitchen. Once everything was in order, Han Fei still stood in his original spot.
For Han Fei, this was an experience he had never had before. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but they were so hard to say.
This period was supposed to be the most tender time his wife had gone through. If he spoke the truth, that false semblance of happiness might shatter instantly.
