After doing all this, Qiao An fell asleep peacefully.
When Li Xiaoran and Father Qiao arrived at the Qiao family's small courtyard, it was already ten in the evening.
The dark night shrouded the outline of the Qiao family's small courtyard. Li Xiaoran could not see the courtyard clearly, but he felt that this place was extremely familiar.
In the middle of the courtyard was probably Qiao An's favorite parasol tree when she was young. There might still be some words she had carved on the tree trunk.
The courtyard was inlaid with limestone, and the flower beds were made of green bricks. The roses planted by Qiao An should be in the flower beds.
Mr. Qiao walked over and turned on the courtyard light. Instantly, the courtyard was brightly lit.
The scene in front of him completely overlapped with Li Xiaoran's mind. Li Xiaoran could not help but cry.
He looked at the scene that Qiao An had mentioned countless times, and his heart ached.
