"Why you didn't inform Dad about Grandpa San's condition, Attorney?" asked Zhan as they headed to his grandpa's house.
"Tang San is the one who doesn't want you to know. He was dying and he wished to depart in silence. He often pondered why he had to live this long when he had wanted to end his life a long time ago. Zhan stayed silent, recalling that when he was thirteen years old, he had heard the old man express that thought. It's interesting how life can be so ironic.
The two of them were silent as they made their way to his grandfather's house. They stopped in front of a big old house with a mango tree on the side. From the road, you could catch a glimpse of a spacious balcony. The fence appeared so fragile that it seemed ready to fall with just the slightest gust of wind.
"Here we are," said the lawyer. Zhan got out of the car before the old man.
Zhan gazed at the front of the house, which showcased a classic Spanish-style architecture. Some areas appeared worn and damaged. As the lawyer swung open the creaky iron gate and stepped inside, a chilly breeze swept by, making Zhan shiver.
The house looked just as he remembered it. The ground floor, which serves as a garage and workspace, features brick tiles on the main wall. However, some of the Vigan floor tiles are starting to peel. The second floor is made of wood and all the sliding windows are wide open. On the side of the house, there's a spacious paved staircase that has a landing before it continues up to the balcony, which serves as the entrance to the second floor.
"Why don't we head upstairs, son?" suggested the lawyer as he halted on the landing, ready to continue to the second floor.
Zhan followed the old man. Just as he anticipated, the wooden railing was shaking. The red concrete steps showed signs of wear with visible cracks. Upstairs, the lawyer pushed open the two-paneled narra door. Zhan noticed that the lower section of the door was damaged.
Zhan stepped in quietly and made his way inside and was greeted with the large and spacious living room. It was clean despite the old age. The large wooden floor looked like glass in the shine despite a few cracks and holes and he could see the basement.
The lawyer smiled and said, "I ensured the house was tidy for your arrival. I have a caretaker who looks after everything here."
As Zhan glanced around the house's hall. A grandfather's clock was there in a corner. Not working anymore. Antique collectors would have loved to have their hands on that clock. The grand piano was also in another corner. The black varnish was flat and dry. He approached it, lifted the lid, and struck the keys, producing a sound reminiscent of an elderly man clearing his throat.
Zhan lifted his eyes to the ceiling, noticing the two impressive chandeliers hanging above. It looked like the bulbs had stopped working, as he could see the daylight pouring in between them.
With a soft smile, Zhan glided his finger over the vintage phonograph, lost in its nostalgic charm. Since Tang San's era, technology has made remarkable progress. He ran his hand along the back of the chair, observing the rattan details that dangle from the frame. The round table has also maintained its beauty over time. While some furniture remains sturdy, they do reflect a bit of wear and tear.
Aside from the visible items, the very spacious living room was empty. The idea of riding a bicycle inside made him grin.
"I wonder why he didn't even bother to buy new things," he said. More to himself. "A small television or a radio could really keep him entertained throughout the day."
