After watching the movie, the two of them had dinner at a local shopping mall.

Seeing how nervous Chen Die was about returning to that place, Wen Liang simply changed their flight to head back to Yan City first, planning to visit the other place in a couple of days.

For these two days, Chen Die also lived in fear, but she could no longer escape.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go back and see, but that she was simply too afraid. If what Jiang Xian had said was true, perhaps some of the knots she had been unable to untie for many years could finally loosen. But it might also lead to deeper disappointment.

No hope means no disappointment—that saying was indeed true.

After two days passed, Chen Die went to the gym at noon, then returned home and anxiously began to pack her luggage.

Wen Liang had said they were going on a trip, initially planning for five days.

Chen Die sat on a soft cushion on the living room floor with an open suitcase beside her feet. She slowly placed her clothes into it one by one.

When she again felt the urge to flee at the last minute, Wen Liang called.

“Hello?” Chen Die answered.

Wen Liang: “Are you packing already?”

“Mm, just started.”

“Something unexpected came up that I need to handle, so I probably won’t have time to go with you tomorrow. Would it be alright if we go together the day after tomorrow?” Wen Liang asked.

Chen Die paused, feeling oddly relieved: “It’s fine, take care of your business first, there’s no rush.”

Wen Liang chuckled: “One day will be enough.”

Chen Die’s relief didn’t last long. True to his word, Wen Liang did finish his business in just one day.

Early Friday morning, the two set off carrying their suitcases.

The small town where Chen Die had once lived was called Wu Xi, formerly a genuine land of fish and rice. Now it had also developed a tourism industry, and the neighboring town had built an airport just in the past couple of years.

The two landed at that airport.

Since Chen Die could be easily recognized, taking a taxi wasn’t suitable. Wen Liang had rented a car in advance for convenience, and he navigated toward Wu Xi himself.

Chen Die looked out the window.

Wu Xi had changed significantly, quite different from her memories of seven years ago.

There were many high-rise buildings, but also numerous refurbished and redecorated houses with cute patterns painted on the outer walls, likely used as guesthouses.

As Wen Liang drove further, the scenery became increasingly familiar to Chen Die.

On the right was a small river, still very clear, with lotus leaves floating on it. Back then, she and other children would go there after school to pick water chestnuts to eat—they tasted sweet with a hint of bitterness when bitten into.

On the left were residential buildings.

Chen Die spotted the most familiar one from a distance, located right across from a bus stop. Indeed, as Jiang Xian had said, it had been renovated and looked even newer than when Chen Die had left home.

Her heart suddenly raced, but she didn’t tell Wen Liang that this was where she used to live.

The car quickly drove past, and the building was no longer visible.

Wen Liang drove directly to the pre-booked hotel, completed the check-in, and carried one suitcase in each hand upstairs.

This wasn’t a star-rated hotel. Wen Liang had booked the best suite available—two bedrooms and a living room. After swiping the key card to enter, the room wasn’t luxurious, but could be described as “clean.”

Wen Liang put the suitcases aside, went to the bathroom to wash his hands, and came out.

“Are there any attractions in Wu Xi?” Wen Liang pulled her to sit beside him.

“…I don’t know.” Chen Die had been so nervous these past few days about possibly meeting her foster parents that she’d forgotten she was also bringing Wen Liang here for tourism. She quickly took out her phone and opened a search app. “I don’t think there were many attractions when I was little.”

Chen Die typed in the search box: Wu Xi travel guide.

Several attractions popped up.

Things like an amusement park, aquarium, and zoo—the descriptions made them sound impressive, but upon closer inspection, these places were simply the spring tour destinations that Chen Die’s elementary school had organized class trips to.

Very ordinary places, yet somehow they qualified as attractions.

She scrolled down and picked one: “How about we go to South Qian Old Street? There are quite a few snacks there.”

“Sure.” Wen Liang didn’t care where they went.

“But we should go in the evening. There are too many people during the day.”

“Okay, you should rest for a while first.”

The two rested at the hotel for a bit.

Wen Liang was also very busy with work. This trip with Chen Die had been decided just a few days ago, and some work couldn’t be handled or delegated in advance, so he took out his laptop and started working in the hotel living room.

Chen Die quietly watched him work for quite a while before finally moving to his side, feeling a bit embarrassed: “Did you still have a lot of unfinished work yesterday?”

Wen Liang’s typing hands paused: “No, I’ll finish this soon.”

Chen Die looked at the screen full of data: “If you’re busy, we don’t have to go out tonight.”

“Did we come here just to stay in a hotel?” Wen Liang smiled, holding her hand. “Are you feeling bored?”

“No.” Chen Die didn’t want to disturb him. “Go ahead, I’ll look at the new script.”

By evening, as the sky gradually darkened, Wen Liang finally closed his laptop.

Chen Die wore a wide-brimmed hat that could cover half her face and went out with Wen Liang.

South Qian Old Street wasn’t far from the hotel, so they didn’t drive but walked there instead.

Wu Xi was at a low latitude, and the weather was already quite warm this month. Chen Die wore a white short-sleeved dress, while Wen Liang wore a white shirt and black pants.

The two were strikingly good-looking and quickly drew sidelong glances from local passersby, making Chen Die too afraid to lift her head the entire way. Fortunately, the street lighting wasn’t too bright at night, the ambiance was dim, otherwise, some people who had seen Wen Liang’s photos online might have recognized him.

“Let’s walk by the river.”

Chen Die pushed him gently, and they walked down the steps together.

The evening breeze carried moist air from the water.

There weren’t many people on the riverside path, just some old men sitting and fishing with flashlights. Chen Die finally felt she could lift her head for a while.

In the distance, they could see a stone marker with the inscription “South Qian Old Street.”

On ordinary days, only local children and tourists would come to South Qian Old Street. On this Friday evening in April, before the peak tourist season, the street wasn’t crowded.

However, in recent years, as Wu Xi developed its tourism industry, they had certainly cleaned up the area around this street. On both sides were buildings with a strong sense of history, and there was even a stage set up for performances.

“I used to love eating the rice cakes here when I was little.”

Chen Die said as she pulled Wen Liang to a rice cake shop.

The shopkeeper was very enthusiastic, speaking with a local accent: “What would you like? We have several flavors. You can try them all—rice cakes are our specialty.”

Chen Die, keeping her hat brim low, ordered one original flavor, one salted egg yolk, and one cranberry rice cake.

The shopkeeper packed them up and added a free red date rice cake, handing it to Wen Liang: “Wishing you an early birth of a precious child.”

Chen Die froze, tilting her head to look at Wen Liang.

He remained composed, took the bag after paying, and even smiled at the shopkeeper, saying, “Thank you.”

Chen Die: “…”

They then bought a cup of sour plum soup and a fruit platter from another shop before sitting down on a wooden bench by the stream.

The rice cakes were sweet. Wen Liang didn’t particularly like sweet food, so he took a bite of the original flavor and turned to look at Chen Die beside him.

She was holding a cranberry rice cake, her pale white fingers pulling off the cranberries stuck on top and putting them in her mouth before taking a bite of the cake, leaving a faint ring of lipstick around it.

Wen Liang gradually became lost in the sight, as if traveling through time and space to see Chen Die who had once lived in Wu Xi.

A little girl sitting alone by the river, holding a sweet rice cake and taking small bites.

This was the life she had once lived.

After wandering around South Qian Old Street for a while longer, they left, walking back and chatting along the way.

The nightlife here was generally sparse. By 8:30 PM, things had quieted down, with only some elderly people gathered at street corners under the lamplight, cracking melon seeds and chatting.

Chen Die was like an ostrich with its head buried in sand, always too afraid to recall things from here. But now, having come out for a walk with Wen Liang, she felt there might not be much to fear after all.

It was just a place where she had lived for some time in the past.

Her voice was soft, yet she rambled on, telling Wen Liang about various small incidents from her past, memories reviving in the process.

After walking for quite some time, Wen Liang finally asked: “Do you want to go back and take a look now?”

Chen Die raised her head.

She realized she had unconsciously walked to the bus stop, and looking to the left, she saw that familiar building.

Her toes shifted slightly as she quietly gazed at the house for a while before raising her hand and pointing: “This is where I used to live.”

Wen Liang looked in the direction she was pointing, silently taking her hand and holding it in his, his voice gentle: “Shall we go over?”

“It’s so late now.” Chen Die started making excuses again. “They might be asleep. Let’s come back tomorrow.”

“The lights are still on.” Wen Liang lifted his chin slightly, indicating the lights on the second floor.

Chen Die pressed her lips together without speaking.

Wen Liang didn’t force her, patiently taking her hand: “Then we’ll come back tomorrow.”

Chen Die followed him a couple of steps forward before lowering her head and explaining softly: “I just feel it’s strange to go in like this. I don’t know what to say, it feels weird. They might not want to see me either. My brother Jiang Xian mentioned they had a son later, we’d be too disruptive.”

Wen Liang simply gave a faint “Mm” and squeezed her hand.

But after they had walked a few more steps, a light breeze brushed past from behind, carrying a voice that she thought she had forgotten but was still familiar, very soft and trembling: “Chen Die.”

She turned around.

Before coming, she had imagined many scenarios for their reunion but hadn’t expected it would be like this.

Wang Mian was holding a garbage bin, probably from the kitchen, with vegetable scraps and oily soup dripping down. She stood not far away, the street lamp shining on her face. She was somewhat hunched, wearing a cotton shirt with light blue floral cuff protectors.

Chen Die’s black eyelashes trembled lightly as she looked up at her face.

She had aged a lot, with deep wrinkles around her eyes and nasolabial folds. Her hair was pinned up low, with wisps of hair on her neck. Chen Die saw her eyes slowly fill with tears, then tremble as tears fell.

That tear seemed to land on the tip of Chen Die’s heart, softening and smoothing the hard lump that had been stored there for so long.

Wen Liang released her hand.

Chen Die paused and looked up at him.

He said softly: “You decide whether to go over or return to the hotel.”

Chen Die stood in place for who knows how long, then took off the wide-brimmed hat on her head and looked at Wang Mian.

The willows on the embankment were sprouting fresh green buds, with catkins floating in the air.

Wang Mian staggered over, raised her arm slightly, then quickly lowered it.

In the current scene, she and Chen Die standing together look like people from different worlds. No one would believe that Chen Die had once been raised by her.

She was simply too glamorous, even though she wore just an ordinary white dress. Yet it still made Wang Mian afraid to touch or approach her.

She was a bit awkward, laughing uncomfortably, and wiped her apron: “My hands are dirty.”

Chen Die didn’t know how to react. She could see that Wang Mian had wanted to hug her just now, but Chen Die still didn’t know how to open her arms to her.

Moreover, she didn’t even know what to call her now.

She couldn’t bring herself to say “Mom.”

Calling her “Auntie” also seemed inappropriate.

In the end, she could only respond with an “Mm.”

My hands are dirty.

Mm.

Chen Die frowned slightly, frustrated that she had said the wrong thing.

Fortunately, Wang Mian didn’t mind, continuously wiping her hands on her apron. After a while, she finally managed to say: “Come sit at home for a while.”

“Okay.”

Inside the house, there weren’t many major changes. Chen Die looked around and pulled Wen Liang to sit down at the table.

Wang Mian ran to put the garbage bin back in the kitchen, washed her hands, and brought out two cups with tea leaves floating in them, placing them in front of them: “It’s not good tea, just to wet your throat.”

“Don’t be busy, sit down too,” Chen Die said, pausing before asking: “Where is he?”

Chen Jianping wasn’t there.

“After dinner, the factory called saying there was a power short circuit, so he went to fix it.” Wang Mian took off her apron and sat down across from them. “Why did you come back here?”

“I don’t have much work recently, so I brought my…” She paused, looking at Wen Liang, then continued, “brought my boyfriend to have a casual look around.”

“Oh.”

Wang Mian nodded, carefully glancing up at Wen Liang before quickly averting her gaze.

“I ran into our neighbor’s son, Brother Jiang Xian, a while back,” Chen Die said.

“Ah? Oh, I heard from his mother. He’s doing well now, starting a business in the big city.”

Chen Die: “I heard from him that you’ve been doing well these years, you’re in good health, and your child is in kindergarten or elementary school now?”

Hearing her mention this, Wang Mian became awkward again, mumbling: “Yes, yes, we’re doing fine. He’s doing okay in school too, about to start elementary school. He’s not at home today, he’s staying at his uncle’s.”

Chen Die nodded, suddenly not knowing how to ask what she wanted. She picked up the teacup and took a sip of the hot tea.

Wen Liang’s hand reached up to her shoulder, silently squeezing it.

Wang Mian broke the silence: “You must be very busy with work lately?”

“Mm, I’ll be entering production for a new project soon.” After saying this, she realized Wang Mian might not understand what “entering production” meant, so she added, “There’s a new movie about to be filmed.”

“Oh, oh.” Wang Mian nodded repeatedly. “I’ve seen many people praising you on my phone. Your dad and I went to the town’s cinema on the first day of the Lunar New Year and watched it. It was really good.”

Chen Die hadn’t expected their reunion would be such a calm scene, like two old friends asking about each other’s lives over the past few years.

Yet they still dared not touch the core question.

After about twenty awkward minutes of chat, Chen Die stood up: “It’s getting late, and you should be going to bed soon. We’ll be leaving now.”

Wang Mian looked up at her, opening and closing her mouth.

Chen Die pulled Wen Liang toward the door, opening the handle. From behind, Wang Mian suddenly called out to her again: “Chen Die!”

At the same time, Chen Die saw the man in front of her—Chen Jianping.

He had just ridden his motorcycle into the small courtyard and taken off his helmet when he saw Chen Die. He also froze in place, looking at her for a good while before walking over: “Are you leaving?”

Wang Mian stood behind her, looking eagerly at her back, suddenly bursting into tears.

The wrinkles on her face piled up like ravines, and tears flowed from these ravines.

“Daughter,” she said in dialect.

Chen Die’s footsteps faltered. She looked back at her, sighed, and went back to help her sit down in the chair: “Don’t cry.”

Once tears fall, some words become easier to say.

Wang Mian wiped her eyes with her sleeve, head lowered, fingers tangled together: “It’s Mom and Dad who wronged you.”

Chen Die didn’t speak.

“At that time, I got sick and needed surgery that cost over 200,000 yuan. Our family savings were only a bit over 100,000.”

This matched what Jiang Xian had said. Chen Die raised her eyes slightly and asked: “Is your health good now?”

“It’s good, all good. The surgery was very successful.” Wang Mian paused, then continued, “You were in high school then and needed summer tutoring. The school teacher called home about special instructors from good city schools coming to train students. The tutoring fee for one summer was over 8,000 yuan, and our family really couldn’t afford it.”

“Then your biological parents came at that time. They first found your dad and me. We knew your biological parents were very wealthy, running a company in a big city. They told us that if you went back with them, you would get the best education, and the best development, and would inherit the family business in the future. You would live a life a hundred times better than here, with a brighter future.”

Chen Die was surprised—this direction was different from what she had originally thought.

She frowned slightly and asked: “Wasn’t it because of the surgery costs?”

“What?”

“I later thought you sent me away because of the surgery costs.”

“How could that be!” Chen Jianping immediately exclaimed from the side, his reaction very strong. After a moment, as if realizing his reaction was excessive, he murmured, “How could it be because of that.”

Wang Mian asked: “Did you always think we sent you away because of this?”

“…”

Chen Die thought to herself that she had only started thinking this way after hearing Jiang Xian’s words a few days ago.

Even earlier, she had always believed she was just dispensable in this family, which was why she had been “sent” to the Chen family.

“We had already gathered over 200,000 yuan for the surgery by asking friends and relatives, but after the surgery, we had no money left. Plus, I might have died on the operating table. We might not have been able to save money for your future studies, not to mention your college education later.”

“When your dad and I brought you home originally, we truly treated you as our daughter. I… the doctor said at that time that it would be difficult for me to have children. I never expected to get pregnant shortly after you left. Your dad and I truly saw you as our only daughter. We just didn’t anticipate this change.”

Wang Mian lowered her head: “…How could we not want you because of 200,000 yuan for surgery?”

Chen Die bit her lip, her heart pounding wildly.

“But we wanted the best for you.”

“Mom only studied until middle school and always admired those with higher education. I wanted my daughter to be like that too, but our family was struggling too much at that time, with many uncertainties.”

“Moreover, those were your biological parents. My daughter could originally have lived a very good life, having whatever she wanted. I… I couldn’t bear to let you suffer hardships with us. The doctor said at that time there was a 50% chance the surgery would fail. I couldn’t imagine how you and your dad would live and grow up together.”

Chen Die’s throat felt dry, her eyelids burning.

“When your biological parents came, they brought a lawyer with them. When we adopted you, the procedures weren’t properly done. I don’t understand the specifics, I just know that if it went to court, they would eventually get custody of you. The day you left, I suddenly fainted due to that illness and was hospitalized. I couldn’t even see you off.”

Wang Mian had grown up in this place, with only a few years of schooling and a low education level. She had a natural sense of inferiority toward such a group of people.

But even with that inferiority, she thought that Chen Die shouldn’t become like her in the future.

Born into inferiority, she even felt that she was holding Chen Dieback. She was originally a child from a wealthy family, living a life where she never had to worry about money.

But after sixteen years of raising her, if the family had had more money, and more hope at that time, she wouldn’t have let Chen Die be taken away by them.

Chen Jianping took out a leather notebook from the inner room, a thick stack with many things tucked inside—household expense statements, water and electricity bills…

He flipped through it for a long time, finally turning to a page with several train tickets pasted on it.

They were tickets from Wu Xi Railway Station to Yan City Railway Station.

Chen Die looked at the two place names repeatedly, not knowing how to describe her current feelings. She had always thought that after being abandoned by her original family, her biological parents had decided her fate with an extremely casual attitude. In the middle of all this, she had resolutely chosen neither side, taking a gamble by leaving with Wen Liang, who was completely strange to her at the time.

But now, it seemed she wasn’t abandoned after all.

Rather, when Wang Mian and Chen Jianping’s lives had completely sunk into stagnation, they had, with a heartfelt wish, hoped she could have a better life.

Although this heartfelt wish wasn’t what she truly wanted.

But she felt she could finally let go of this matter now.

So much time had passed, and all she wanted was a genuine explanation.

“Have you been to Yan City?” Chen Die asked softly.

“Yes, but we couldn’t see you. We didn’t know exactly where your biological parents lived in Yan City.” She lowered her head. “That place is too big.”

Chen Die didn’t know what to say. She looked out the window bewilderedly, only turning back after a while to say: “I’ve come back.”

Wang Mian finally covered her mouth and cried out loud, saying brokenly: “Stay here tonight. Your room is still kept for you, and the bedding has just been aired out.”

At that moment, Chen Die didn’t have time to wonder why the bedding in her room had just been aired out.

Wang Mian then looked at Wen Liang: “If you don’t mind, you can stay in my son’s room. He’s not at home.”

Chen Die turned her head to look at him, concerned he might not sleep comfortably.

But Wen Liang had already nodded: “Okay, thank you for the trouble.”

The events of so many years past were concluded in a few simple narrations. They had reconciled, and she had also reconciled with her past.

Even as Chen Die walked into her former bedroom and looked at the familiar arrangement, she still felt bewildered.

But she also seemed to finally breathe a sigh of relief.

She sat on what was once her bed, carefully touching the sheets with her hand, feeling both strange and familiar.

Her thought process seemed slower than most people’s. It was only at this moment that a sense of bitterness finally surged in her throat.

She dawdled for quite a while before lying down, sending a message to Wen Liang in the next room before sleep.

[Chen Die: Are you asleep?]

After waiting a while with no response from him.

Could he be asleep?

It’s still so early, that shouldn’t be the case.

Chen Die put her phone aside, looked up at the ceiling, and pondered what Wang Mian had told her.

She turned over, starting to feel thirsty.

There was no water dispenser in the bedroom. Chen Die hesitated for a moment, deciding to go out for water.

She didn’t turn on the lights, using the light from her phone screen to go down the stairs, when she suddenly heard Wen Liang and Wang Mian talking. Her footsteps paused, and she pressed her phone screen to her chest, turning it off.

“Thank you so much this time. If you hadn’t brought her back, I don’t know when I would have been able to talk to her and explain everything clearly. After the surgery was successful, I’ve been regretting it all along, but never saw her again.”

Wen Liang said: “She wanted to come herself. I wouldn’t have forced her to come if she didn’t want to. She was very nervous about coming back these past few days, which is why I thought of coming early to check the situation first, to prevent her from being disappointed.”

Wang Mian still had tears in the corners of her eyes: “Seeing her with you by her side now, I can finally feel at ease.”

Wen Liang then took out a bank card from his pocket and handed it over: “Please take this money.”

Wang Mian waved her hands repeatedly: “No, no, I can’t take this. You both are working hard in the big city too. Use this money to buy her something good to eat.”

She had no idea how much money was in the card, nor could she imagine it.

Wen Liang wasn’t good at such social situations, and at the same time, he heard something falling to the ground behind him.

He turned around and saw Chen Die standing in the darkness.

Wen Liang put the bank card on the table and walked directly toward her.

…

She finally understood why Wen Liang had suddenly said he had something to handle the day before their departure.

She understood why he had asked if she wanted to go back and look when they happened to be walking near the house.

She understood why Wang Mian could call out to her by just seeing her back from a distance at night, even though she was wearing a hat.

And she understood why the bedding in her room had been freshly aired out.

He had come here a day earlier.

Because she was nervous, because she was too afraid to hear unfavorable responses, he had come ahead to hear the answers for her.

He had turned himself into her armor and protective shell, heard the good answers, and felt confident to bring her here, ensuring she wouldn’t be hurt.

Chen Die’s eyes grew moist as she asked: “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

Wen Liang looked at her and embraced her: “Yes.”