"I was asleep and woke up." He took Su Qianci's hand, patted it, sighed, and said, "Do you know why I woke up?" Su Qianci looked at him and slowly shook her head. His face was also more wrinkled than three years ago. "I just had a dream. I dreamed that Sicheng came back." The old man smiled. His voice was old and dry, and his dry hand was lying on hers. He was a little sentimental as he stated, "he said, 'Grandpa, I am sorry, to you and Qianci. I may not be able to come back to see you off. Just pretend that you had never had this grandson. I am sorry." The voice of the old man became sobbing, and his eyes were filled with tears. "It has been four years. Two months later, it will be the birthday of Dasu and Ersu. If he is still alive, he must have returned already. But why is he still away from home?"