Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Children always have a million “whys.”

Lian Huai was no different when he was four or five years old.

One day, he asked me, “Why doesn’t Sister have a mommy and daddy?”

I told him, “I do. Everyone has a mommy and daddy; it’s just that Sister’s parents are very far away.”

“Where is ‘very far away’?”

I choked up, unable to speak.

Originally, I could have seen my parents every year on the day they came to pay their respects at my grave.

Lian Xiucheng cruelly shattered that hope.

He swapped my ashes at the funeral. To this day, my parents believe that the box of carbon powder buried in the cemetery is their daughter.

In those first few years, Lian Xiucheng would occasionally visit them.

But before long, he forgot about it and never contacted my parents again.

Forgotten along with them was his conscience.

He didn’t seem the least bit guilty that I had died because of him.

Turning my ashes into a necklace to give to his son as a protective amulet was just his way of moving himself with his own ‘devotion.’ I had long since realized how selfish and cold-hearted he truly was.

It had always been this way-he never spared a thought for me.

Even if I was a ghost.

I still had feelings.

I had my own parents.

And I got homesick, too.

I really couldn’t keep up with the impulsive madness of youth.

Just like that, we left on a whim. He booked the tickets, crossed several cities, and by dawn the next day, we had arrived in my hometown.

Following the familiar path in my memory, I guided Lian Huai back to my house.

Having been away for so many years, the neighborhood had grown quite dilapidated. Many familiar faces were gone, but the camphor tree downstairs remained as lush as ever, just as it had always been.

I only wanted to see my parents from a distance. Who could have guessed it would be such a coincidence? Just as we entered the complex, I saw an incredibly familiar figure walking toward us, carrying a bag of groceries.

My footsteps froze. “Dad!” I cried out, my voice trembling.

As if he had actually heard me, my dad turned around hurriedly, searching for the source of the sound.

After a long moment, he turned back as if waking from a dream. Because he wasn’t looking where he was going, his foot slipped, and he tumbled into a flower bed.

I covered my face in misery.

My dad’s fall was actually quite serious; his ankle swelled up significantly.

Fortunately, Lian Huai was right there and immediately carried him on his back to the hospital.

By the time Lian Huai finished the hospitalization paperwork and returned to the ward, my mother had arrived and was currently scolding my father.

When she saw Lian Huai, her face broke into a wide smile.

“Child, you must be Xiao Huai. Thank you so much.”

Lian Huai smiled back. “It’s nothing, Auntie.”

I stood to the side, wiping away tears, and nudged him with my elbow. “Change how you address her. You should call her ‘Grandma.'”

After all, my mother was in her sixties or seventies now.

Lian Huai mouthed back to me, “That would totally mess up the family hierarchy.”

At that moment, my dad chimed in, speaking to my mother with utter seriousness. “I really didn’t hear wrong. I heard Xingxing call me ‘Dad.'”

My mother looked even more worried now.

“Oh dear, did you manage to break your head in that fall too?”