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墨書 Inktalez
"You're my mom, right? You're her, aren't you? You didn't die, did you?..." Countless questions surged forth like a flood, overwhelming me with a sense of suffocation. The boy's tone was urgent and filled with anticipation.
I looked into his gaze, which was filled with despair, yet hidden within that despair was a glimmer of hope. Was he afraid of being disappointed again?
I stared at this handsome boy in confusion. Was he calling me mom? That title made me question everything; if I hadn't spoken it myself, no one in this era would dare to address me that way.
When he called me mom, I even had the illusion of seeing An Yijun standing there affectionately calling me mom.
So who was he? Could it be that he was someone significant in my past memories? I strained to think, but the memories of Xie Weiying were so faint, as if a layer of cicada wings obscured many truths. I couldn't see what lay hidden before me.
I gazed at his sorrowful face and cautiously asked, "Should I know you?"
For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to be as indifferent to him as I was to others.
Upon hearing my words, he took a step back, hurt and unsteady, nearly collapsing under his own weight.
"How could you forget... How could you even forget Shaoshao... They were right after all... You've really forgotten everything..." His expression seemed to crumble suddenly, and an unbidden pain welled up in my heart. I looked at his pale cheeks and the emptiness in his eyes, wanting to reach out to support him, but I couldn't take that step...
Should I remember you? I asked myself.
But... the only response was a blankness in my mind. I once thought losing some memories wouldn't matter to me, but now, seeing someone I had forgotten—someone who had once been so important—so heartbroken and in pain, I suddenly understood that when I was hurt, many others suffered alongside me.
It turned out that I had never been alone.
I looked at him and softly said, "I'm sorry." Soon, seeing the pallor of his cheeks, I continued to comfort him, "You don't need to worry. I'll remember everything soon. You don't have to be so sad."
He glanced at me, then suddenly smiled coolly, a smile that felt filled with blood and tears. It was so helpless, so heart-wrenching.
He stood there quietly, gazing at me as if trying to see through a river of autumn waters, as if he wanted to pierce through the River of Oblivion that always lingered between us, as if he wished to dwell deep within my soul...
"Even if you forget me, Mom, I will always be by your side. I will never again," he paused painfully, "never let you cry alone without anyone beside you. I will never let you be alone in a dark place with no way to call for help. I will never let you choose to leave in despair again. I will never let you get hurt... never again..." His resolute face was filled with seriousness and sincerity, as if he had made her a permanent promise.
He would never forget the pain he felt when he followed that man who had hurt her into that dark and damp place, seeing her curled up alone in a corner, silent and lifeless. The regret was overwhelming. It was only then that they realized how deeply scarred she was beneath her plain white clothes and her calm, serene smile. Her fingers were mangled and bloody, having been cruelly broken by someone. Yet on stage, she played with such indifference and coldness as if nothing had happened... Beneath her white attire was a tattered garment that barely covered her body, stained with dark red blood, countless wounds marred her skin, bleeding enough to turn her white clothes into red. She said nothing and asked for nothing from them; she continued to play quietly before everyone, singing the final song she had long decided upon.
She had chosen this path long ago—to leave alone in solitude. Yet she bloomed quietly like a captivating poppy flower in everyone's hearts, leaving behind an exquisite white silhouette.
She caused their hearts to ache, bleed, and shatter, while she herself departed.
But even now, they remained filled with guilt—guilt for not taking better care of her while being by her side. Therefore, he would never again allow something that could lead to a lifetime of regret to happen.
Sima Shao silently gazed at Gaze's clear figure and then suddenly dragged his weakened body over to her. Before she could react, he opened his arms wide and enveloped her in a warm embrace, gently pressing against her ear as he softly said, "Mom, welcome back. I've waited too long for this day." To become strong enough to replace the man who had hurt her—the lofty emperor—and take good care of her instead; for these years, he had held onto hope or perhaps some fantasy woven by himself that refused to accept reality. He had always thought she hadn't died; indeed she hadn't died and had returned to his side once more. How wonderful it was.
"You are Xie Weiying, right? You are Shaoshao's mom, right?" After saying this, it seemed he couldn't help but force himself to confirm the answer and sighed softly.
Seeing him like this made me silently repeat the words I had just swallowed: I am just An Ge Yi.
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