A son massaging his mother’s legs—especially when she is disabled—should be the most ordinary thing in the world. But for Stella and Altsin, such a warm and tender moment between mother and son was exceedingly rare.

It was hard to recall the last time they had spoken so calmly to each other. It felt like a distant memory.

Stella felt a little uncomfortable, worried that kneeling for too long would hurt her son’s knees. She didn’t want him to continue.

However, her sharp-eyed personal maid, Lena, quickly brought in a small, round stool. “Altsin, the floor is cold. Sit on this. The young lady’s legs do need a good massage.”...