Divine Eye Appraisal: Starting with a Lucky Pickup of a Beautiful CEO's Family Heirloom

Grandma woke up on the third day after the surgery. Wen Zhaoye was dozing off by the bedside when he vaguely felt his hand being squeezed.

He looked up abruptly and saw his grandmother open her eyes and looking at him.

"Teruno." The voice was soft, but much clearer than before the surgery.

Wen Zhaoye quickly went over to her, "Grandma, how are you feeling?"

Grandma blinked twice, as if adjusting to the light, and then slowly said, "Hungry."

Wen Zhaoye laughed.

He ran to find the nurse, who came over, checked him over, and said he could have some porridge.

He went to the breakfast shop across from the hospital and bought a bowl of millet porridge, which was still steaming when he brought it back.

Grandma leaned against the headboard as Wen Zhaoye fed her spoonful by spoonful.

She drank about half a bowl, then pushed his hand away and grabbed his wrist.

"Where did the surgery fee come from?"

Wen Zhaoye paused for a moment and placed the bowl of porridge on the bedside table.

"I made some money."

"How many?"

"Enough."

Grandma looked at him, her eyes holding something indescribable.

It wasn't suspicion, but rather that I already knew something and just wanted to hear him say it himself.

"Grandma, don't worry about these things. Just focus on getting better."

Grandma didn't ask any more questions and released his wrist.

But she kept staring at Wen Zhaoye's face for a long time, so long that he became a little uncomfortable.

"grandmother?"

"It's nothing." Grandma looked away. "You've gained some weight, but haven't lost any."

Wen Zhaoye smiled, picked up the bowl of porridge, and continued feeding her.

In the afternoon, the nurse said that Grandma needed a change of clothes and asked Wen Zhaoye to go back and get them.

He took the bus back to his rented room.

He had walked that road countless times. It used to seem quite long, but today it felt like he arrived in the blink of an eye.

He bought two bottles of water at the convenience store downstairs, and the shopkeeper paused for a moment when she saw him.

"Xiao Wen, how is your grandma?"

"The surgery went smoothly, and you are recovering."

"That's good, that's good." The proprietress grabbed a handful of candy from the counter and handed it to her. "Take this to your grandma."

Wen Zhaoye thanked him and took the candy upstairs.

The hallway still smelled the same. Damp walls, garbage bags left outside other people's doors, and old shoes piled up in the corner.

He took out his keys and opened the door; the house was quiet inside.

The curtains were drawn, letting in a little light.

Everything is as it was.

There's still half a basin of water in the enamel basin in the corner.

The old newspapers on the windowsill, covered in dust, were neatly folded.

The medicine bottles by Grandma's bedside were lined up in a row.

Wen Zhaoye stood at the door for a while, then went in, opened his grandmother's wardrobe, took out a few changes of clothes, folded them, and put them in a bag.

As he was about to leave, his hand touched the pillow.

There's something hard under my pillow.

Wen Zhaoye lifted the pillow, revealing a piece of cardboard underneath.

He pulled it out and stared in disbelief.

It's a family photo.

The photo is yellowed and the edges are curled up, as if it has been repeatedly rubbed countless times.

The photo shows him at age seven, missing a front tooth, laughing carefree.

Beside him was his mother, a young woman with a ponytail, her arm around his shoulder.

The father, Wen Tiankuo, stood at the very back.

The face is blurry. It's as if it intentionally avoided the camera, or perhaps it's because too much time has passed and the face has faded.

You can only see a rough outline; you can't make out any facial features.

Wen Zhaoye stared at that blurry face for a long time.

He realized he could no longer remember what his father looked like.

All that remains of what happened before I was seven is fragmented information.

For example, his father squatted down and said to him, "Don't say your surname is Wen." For example, the night his father left, it was very dark.

He turned the photo over; there was nothing written on the back.

Wen Zhaoye put the photo into the wallet's inner compartment, and paused for a moment when he zipped it up.

Something stirred in my mind, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.

He zipped up his jacket, put his wallet in his pocket, and went out the door with the bag.

It was getting dark when I got back to the hospital.

Grandma was leaning against the headboard. When she saw him come in, her gaze fell on his chest—the pocket where his wallet was.

Wen Zhaoye put the clothes on the chair, poured a cup of hot water and handed it to him.

Grandma took the water glass and suddenly grabbed his wrist.

It wasn't very strong, but it gripped very tightly.

Wen Zhaoye looked down at her.

Grandma opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Wen Zhaoye waited for a while but didn't urge him.

The light outside the window grew dimmer, and the lights in the ward were still off.

Grandma's face was half bright and half dark, and there was something indescribable churning in her eyes.

After a while, Grandma let go of his hand and spoke.

"Have you watered the jasmine plant inside?"

Wen Zhaoye paused for a moment, then nodded.

"It's been watered."

Grandma said "Oh," looked away, picked up her water glass, and took a sip.

She didn't mention what she had wanted to say earlier.

Wen Zhaoye didn't press the matter further.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, took out his phone, and glanced at it. Qin Fei had sent a message: How is Grandma?

He replied with four words: "Surgery successful."

The reply came quickly: That's good.

Wen Zhaoye glanced at it and put the phone back.

He looked up and saw his grandmother looking out the window.

It was getting dark, and her face was reflected in the windowpane. She had lost weight, but she seemed to be in good spirits.

Wen Zhaoye said, "Grandma, what do you want to eat tonight? I'll buy it for you."

Grandma didn't turn around, but said, "Is that wonton shop you loved to eat at when you were little still there?"

"Yes, I'll buy it tomorrow."

Grandma hummed in agreement and placed the water glass on the bedside table.

Wen Zhaoye stood up and pulled her blanket up a little.

When he looked down, he saw his grandmother clutching the corner of the blanket tightly.

She didn't look at him, but she said something very softly, as if she were talking to herself.

"Your dad was about the same age as you are now when he passed away."

Wen Zhaoye did not respond.

The room was silent for a few seconds.

Then Grandma added, "If he were alive, he would have white hair by now."

After saying that, he closed his eyes, as if he was tired.

Wen Zhaoye stood by the bed, looking at his grandmother's face.

He reached out and turned the bedside lamp up to one level, then picked up his water glass and left the ward.

The lights in the corridor came on.

He stood at the end of the corridor for a while, then took out his wallet and opened the hidden compartment.

The photo was inside. He stared at his father's blurry face in the photo for a long time.

Something has been planted in my heart.

He zipped up his jacket, put his wallet back in his pocket, and turned to walk back to the ward.