Madam Zhai emerged from the meditation room and was informed by a servant about Zhai Lin's ordeal in the pouring rain. Holding a string of prayer beads, she walked towards a French window that overlooked the vast estate lawn.
Observing her grandson slowly making his way through the downpour, Madam Zhai's hands holding the prayer beads came to a halt, and she exclaimed in astonishment, "He is willing to walk now?"
"It was Miss Jiang who forced him. Should we go and assist Young Master in returning?" the servant inquired.
Madam Zhai quickly noticed a discreet black umbrella hidden in the shadows and sighed softly, "No need, that young lady did well. It has been a long time since I last saw him stand up, so let him take a walk."
His maimed limbs aching, with no one to lend a hand, Zhai Lin gritted his teeth and persevered.
He managed to reach the solid concrete pavement, his chest heaving heavily as he gasped for breath.