From the back, it looks like an elderly man with graying hair. His back is very thin, but not hunched. Even though he sits in the wheelchair, he leans against the backrest with a straight posture.
His silhouette appears very lonely, and there's a kind of... desolation. Yes, a feeling of desolation that is hard to describe.
For some reason, just one glance at such a back makes my heart feel unbearably distressed.
Tong Xi looked at the silhouette in front, then at Zhao Yao, and asked softly, "Young Master, should we go over there?"
Zhao Yao nodded slightly and then walked toward the silhouette not far ahead.
The footsteps of both him and Tong Xi were not light, especially on the sand.
This backyard is covered with sand, which makes a rustling sound as you walk on it. The sound of footsteps was particularly loud in this quiet, no, silent courtyard.
The old man sitting in the wheelchair seemed not to hear the footsteps of Zhao Yao and Tong Xi, as he never looked back.
