'Hope is a waking dream'- Aristotle.
Hope was one thing that helped people go through that darkness. Hope was seeing the light despite being surrounded by darkness.
In the last twenty-five years of their life, this was the first time that they felt like the light that illuminated their darkness was the brightest of them all.
They trusted Old Master Han when he said how Phoenix was the spitting image of his beloved wife, Camellia. He was confident that Phoenix was her granddaughter, Camellia, who they had named after his late wife. They all had seen the picture of the late Old Madam Han when she was young at the similar age that Phoenix was right now.
Edward was ashamed of himself at first, as he couldn't remember what his mother looked like. He only remembered how weak his mother looked in her last breath.
The hands that were holding the paper were trembling. Edward suppressing the feeling that he was feeling right now.
