The stretched Lincoln limousine glided down the afternoon avenues, the uniformed driver focused intently on his task while Yin Xia Mo gazed thoughtfully out the window at the passing scenery.

When Ou Chen arrived at the hospital the night before, he made no mention of the commotion at the bridal shop; he only asked if she could set aside some time the following day to meet an important guest.

There wasn’t much happening at the hospital today.

She had worried that the nonsense spouted by that reporter yesterday might have hurt Xiao Cheng, but when she brought up the topic that morning in the garden, Xiao Cheng merely smiled at her. “Sis, I actually remember things from when I was very young. Back then, it seemed like Mom wouldn’t get home until the early hours every day, heavily drunk, the smell of alcohol thick on her. Sometimes she’d shout loudly in the apartment, sometimes she’d blast the music and keep singing and dancing, and sometimes she’d suddenly break down sobbing…” “Xiao Cheng…” She froze; she had always assumed children of two or three wouldn't have memories.

That was why, whenever she mentioned their mother, even if she said little, she always tried to make Xiao Cheng think of their mother as a gentle and kind person.

“I don’t understand why Mom always drank so much, and I don't understand why Mom ultimately killed herself,” Xiao Cheng looked toward the green trees in the garden, his smile soft. “But I loved Mom. She used to kiss me every time before she left for work at the bar, and she’d come kiss me before I slept too. Even though she often woke me up, and even though sometimes the smell of alcohol on her was strong, and sometimes her tears felt cold.” “Mmm, Mom was just that kind of person.”

She took Xiao Cheng’s hand and reminisced, “When I was little, I disliked how she was always leaving me behind to go out, and I disliked how she always kept the apartment a mess, rarely cooking for me. But she always bought me very pretty dresses to wear. Even when we were very poor for a time, she always called me ‘Little Princess,’ ‘Little Princess,’ kissing me and buying me sparkling necklaces. Mom loved you very much too. She was almost addicted to alcohol, but she didn't touch a drop while she was pregnant with you.”

Yin Cheng turned his head to look at her.

A sudden moist glimmer appeared in the depths of his eyes. “Sis, Mom really loved me, didn't she?” “Yes,” she said softly, gazing into his eyes. “Xiao Cheng, do you know? There is no such thing as a perfect person in this world. Maybe Mom was a little different from the mothers of other children; she loved singing, loved drinking, loved excitement, loved beauty, loved men, and even though she accidentally fell from the stage while drunk and died—she loved us. To us, she was a good mother.”

“I understand,” Yin Cheng leaned his head gently against her shoulder. “Sis, you don’t need to worry, I understand…” Xiao Cheng had been sensible and understanding since childhood, never even asking about his father, as if having his sister was more than enough fulfillment.

Yin Xia Mo thought about it and smiled faintly. As long as it didn't hurt Xiao Cheng, let those messy reports go wherever they pleased; she had no energy to care about those things right now.

It was just… the image of that female reporter from yesterday surfaced in Yin Xia Mo’s mind again. She had said she would expose everything about her to the public? Everything… could that possibly include the dark past that had been concealed? Her hand, which had been resting casually on her lap, clenched involuntarily.

A cool breeze blew in from outside the car window. Yin Xia Mo took a deep breath, pulling herself out of the memory, refusing to dwell on those vexing thoughts any longer.

The scenery flashing past the car window was so familiar—ah, a flicker of brightness crossed her eyes! This tree-lined avenue was precisely the road they had to take to school after she and Xiao Cheng were adopted by the Yin family parents. In the height of summer, the trees lining the road were dense and tall, sunlight scattering like crushed gold dust through the gaps in the leaves. Often, children would play and frolic by the roadside; they loved blowing soap bubbles, and in the summer wind, beautiful, iridescent bubbles would drift lightly toward the blue sky… Summer of Bubbles III

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