Zhou Yuantang was at a loss for words. Though she spoke of arrangements for her cat, the vacant look in her eyes as she stared into the middle distance made him feel as if Su Qingyu were planning her own funeral. “I understand,” Zhou Yuantang said softly. “The largest one in the courtyard. In the winter, when its branches are covered in plum blossoms, their fragrance so potent against the snow...