Back to the 1970s: F

Sixty-year-old Ning Ran sat under the wisteria in her small courtyard, her white hair as graceful as a crane. She lay leisurely on a reclining chair, drowsiness washing over her.,Ning Ran slowly opened her eyes, instinctively hugging her grandson and looking at the couple who had just walked in.,"Ning Qing, can you hear me when your mother is speaking to you"。