Everything Would Be In Dust
The moment lunch was over, everyone took a break as Qing Zihao went back to his room to make sure everything he needed was packed.
Qing Chen wondered around the house and found himself at his mother's small shrine. His father had this custom made out of white marble and glass. It was in a small room with a single couch. Her ashes were in a jade urn with a golden plating of a flower on the sides and the cap. His mother would've hated it. She had never indulged herself with the riches and kept things simple.
The rest of the room was in a light yellow. There were a few huge vases with flowers in it that kept the air smelling fresh. The windows were open and the weak afternoon light was pouring in, bathing it in a soft glow.
His mother had always loved sunlight. On random days, their mother would pull them out of school and they would go to the nearest beach, sink their toes in the sand, and splash water around.