Eight Uncles' Beloved Treasure (Lily)

Chapter 602

The old man paused, and the look on his face was even more lonely.

Lilly looked at the old man’s hand, only to see that his fingers were missing a section, and the fingertips were bald.

She still clenched tightly and led the old man away.

The old man let Lilly hold his hand, and when he regained consciousness, he was already sitting on the bench by the Bondee Beach.

“Grandpa, what’s the matter?” Lilly asked.

The old man’s cloudy eyes were covered with a layer of wet mist, “I can’t hold it anymore.”

“I miss my wife very much. It’s meaningless to live alone every day.”

Lilly comforted, “However, if grandma is still here, she definitely doesn’t want to see you like this.”

The old man sighed sadly, “Yes, but what does it matter, she must have waited too long, I don’t want her to wait too long.”

Old Mrs. Crawford and old Mr. Crawford sat on the side, while Blake leaned on the fence by the sea, turned his head and looked into the distance, enjoying the sea breeze.

Lilly saw that his eyes no longer had the desire to live, he was really lifeless, with no vitality at all.

She thought for a while and said, “Grandpa, I can help you and let you see grandma.”

“However, you have to tell me what my grandma’s name is and where she is from…”

The old man glanced at her, suddenly smiled.

“Are you here to listen to the story too?”

to

the past two years, there

to hear it, I can also tell you one

after this time, there would

it was like this every time. It was painful to recall his memories every time, but after being asked about it, he

missed her, and it was more painful

Howard,” The old man

we often met to

and largest lake to row a boat, play in the water together,

when the new house in our hometown is built, we would go back… To live with our parents… To do something in the

marriage in the future. Although it was very hard, thinking

one expected that a

“Nancy was buried below…”

name, digging desperately into the ruins, his ten fingers were bald and dripping with blood, but he still could

subconsciously looked

of his fingers were

pressed under the reinforced concrete and had been dead for a

been alone, supporting both parents until the end of his

children. He lived alone, and the older he got, the harder it was to bear

to me and asked if I could make this story into a short story and post

died, he hoped that she would

away in such an unknown

age, no one would

the short story was filmed on

him to tell the same story over and over again, and finally left with a sigh, or wiped a few tears during filming, and

not help but tightened his hands, and said softly, “Grandpa,

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