In a room on the second floor of Branch No. 1.
Holding a framed black-and-white memorial portrait, Wen Xiang placed it on the table facing the foot of his bed, his face filled with grief and reluctance.
He adjusted the offerings, drew three long incense sticks from the box, and lit them with a lighter. Gently waving the burning tips, he inserted them into the incense burner.
In the frame, his grandmother's face, creased by the years, wore the simple smile of an elderly country woman as she gazed kindly at her grandson.
After setting the incense in place, Wen Xiang stood before the portrait and let out a long sigh, a trace of reminiscence in his eyes.
A cool breeze slipped through the slightly open window, making him feel as though he had returned to a blazing summer day, resting against his grandmother's knees and enjoying the breeze from the fan in her hand.
Sadly, the past was ultimately the past. He was no longer the child who greedily basked in his grandmother's affection, and the old woman would never live through another summer.
"Ah..."
Wen Xiang sighed at length and slowly turned around, his emotions tangled. The lingering sound of his sigh echoed through the empty room.
"Ah..."
Suddenly, at that very moment, another sigh came from somewhere in the room, jarringly out of place and particularly grating.
It almost blended into the lingering echo, but Wen Xiang keenly caught the faint discrepancy.
Wen Xiang whipped around. All reminiscence and conflicting emotion vanished from his eyes, replaced by a sharp, unflinching stare as he instantly switched into the mindset of a Senior Staff Member.
His eyes locked onto his grandmother's memorial portrait. Even though nothing appeared unusual, he refused to look away.
He had unmistakably heard a second