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.,When Ning Ran saw the person in front of her, she was stunned and widened her eyes in disbelief. She pinched herself hard.,"Ning Qing, can you hear me when your mother is speaking to you"。