Back to the 1970s: F

Sixty-year-old Ning Ran sat under the wisteria in her small courtyard, her white hair as graceful as a crane. She lay leisurely on a reclining chair, drowsiness washing over her.,Her mind was muddled, unable to sort through her thoughts. Her eyes darted back and forth, taking in the person before her. When she confirmed that this person looked exactly like her deceased grandmother in her memory, she gasped in surprise, her mouth slightly agape.,"Ning Qing, can you hear me when your mother is speaking to you"。