"Do you remember that Old Grandmother?" Only after the old woman's figure disappeared around the corner did Xiao Xiao look away and turn to Ling Yao. "You met her when she was fourteen. You spent a whole day together."
"She even promised to bring you cookies she'd made herself the next day."
After Xiao Xiao briefly explained the story, Ling Yao finally showed a hint of recognition.
Demons had excellent memories, especially those with profound cultivation.
So after Xiao Xiao described her a little, Ling Yao remembered the girl.
After all, there were very few humans who could see it, and it had spent an entire day playing with that girl.
It had only been on a whim, but it really had been a pleasant day.
So the little girl from back then had become an old woman with white hair and a wrinkled face.
The passage of time left especially obvious marks on humans.
Remembering the wrinkles on the old woman's face, her head of white hair, and her slightly stooped back—everything it had glimpsed just now—Ling Yao couldn't help sighing.
Humans really were short-lived creatures. Seeing the girl from back then again, now an old woman, Ling Yao could sense the heavy aura of death around her.
That girl from back then didn't have long to live.
But that was ordinary human life: in fewer than a hundred years, they experienced birth, aging, illness, and death, before finally returning to dust.
Xiao Xiao stroked the bird pattern and smiled. Then he opened the red tin box and held it out. "Here, your cookies."
Now that Ling Yao remembered the girl, it naturally understood where the cookies had come from.
Ling Yao stared at the cookies in silence for a while, seeming a little conflicted.
Xiao Xiao