On the Table Board

The table faced the Viewing Window, while the inner wall of the dead tree formed a semicylindrical space around it, making it feel far from cramped. The low stool beneath it had been shaped and carved according to the natural protrusions of the tree's core, full of rustic charm and remarkably comfortable, reflecting first-rate design and craftsmanship.

When Ronan sat on the stool, the table came level with the lower part of his chest. It was a little high for him, but for an adult, it should have been one of the more comfortable arrangements in such a confined space.

As Ronan sat there with his elbows resting on the table, the round base of the Electronic Photo Frame lay to his front left. With a light swipe, the glow of the projection area pushed back the surrounding darkness, revealing his mother leaning against a tree and smiling as she had in those days.

Ronan stared blankly at her, at those features vaguely similar to his own yet brighter and sharper. The finger pointing toward the camera also seemed to be greeting him—not with an ordinary "hello," but more like an urging: "Hurry up, keep going, catch up!"

Still seated with one hand braced on the table, Ronan's thoughts drifted again for no apparent reason. He suddenly wondered why the person who had hidden here for who knew how many years had kept this Electronic Photo Frame. And why had they placed it in the most conspicuous spot?

Every night, in that deep and silent darkness, had that person also been like him now, receiving a smile and encouragement from a distant time through the faint glow of the projection?

Ronan's heart suddenly spasmed, draining most of the strength from his body. He no longer wanted to think about anything,