After asking the question, she held her breath.
Her heart pounded against her ribs like a drum, each beat loud enough to drown out her thoughts. She was afraid, deeply afraid, of hearing an answer she could not bear. Was he already someone else’s husband? Had she long ago been buried in the dust of his memories?
Mother Jiang’s hand paused for a brief moment in her daughter’s hair, then resumed its slow, gentle strokes. Her voice carried the weight of distant memories, laced with a quiet sigh.
“I’m not entirely sure about his situation these past years. After you… passed, your father and your brother were worried I wouldn’t be able to take it. They were also afraid A-Yan would be too hurt seeing us, so they wouldn’t let me ask much, let alone contact him. His family… probably felt the same.”
She fell silent for a moment, then continued in a softer voice, touched with sympathy for the young man who had suffered just as deeply.
“All I know is that back then, after he coughed up blood and collapsed at your graveside… his parents took him overseas overnight. Later, maybe three years after you were gone, I vaguely heard Yunting mention that A-Yan had come back and started a company in S City. Beyond that, I don’t know anything more.”
In the darkness, Jiang Yining’s eyes burned with unshed tears.
She clutched her mother tightly, burying her face into the warmth of her neck. Her voice came out muffled, thick with emotion and a guilt that had been buried for far too long.
“Mom… I’m sorry… and I love you.”
Mother Jiang’s heart twisted at the apology. She pulled her daughter, the treasure she had thought lost forever, even closer. Resting her chin gently on her head, she spoke in a voice as soft as a feather brushing the soul.
“Silly child… it’s enough that you’re back. Don’t think about anything else. Go to sleep now. Goodnight, my baby.”
…
The next morning, Jiang Yining woke to the faint murmur of voices downstairs and the comforting scent of breakfast.
Still groggy, she rubbed her eyes and stepped out of the bedroom. In the small living room, she saw Auntie Chen and her mother sitting together, chatting easily, their laughter soft and familiar.
“Ningning, you’re awake?” Auntie Chen stood up at once when she saw her, her face lighting up with a sincere smile. “Congratulations, truly. Heaven must be watching over you, letting you find your real parents. Now I can finally set my heart at ease.”
Jiang Yining blinked, still half-asleep, her gaze drifting from Auntie Chen to her parents in confusion.
Seeing her dazed expression, Mother Jiang laughed and walked over, giving her a light tap on the head.
“Look at you, sleeping until the sun’s high in the sky. Go wash up, breakfast is ready. Where are your manners?”
Jiang Yining clutched her head and turned to Father Jiang, who was sitting nearby reading the newspaper, putting on an exaggeratedly pitiful look.
“Dad, look at Mom. Her motherly love vanished just like that.”
Her words sent everyone into laughter. The little attic filled with a warmth that had been missing for far too long, a quiet, homely happiness settling into every corner.
Auntie Chen composed herself after a moment and spoke again, her tone carrying a hint of apology.
“Ningning, I was worried about how you’d manage the shop alone if I left, but now that your parents are here, I feel relieved. My son… something urgent has come up on his end, and he really needs my help for a while. I’m afraid I won’t be able to continue working at the shop. I’ve come to let you know.”
Jiang Yining was fully awake now. She quickly replied,
“Auntie Chen, please don’t say it like that. Your son’s matters are more important. You should go take care of your family and not worry about the shop. Actually… I’m planning to close things here soon and go back home with my parents anyway.”
Mother Jiang added a few gentle words of reassurance from the side.
Father Jiang folded his newspaper, then took out an envelope he had prepared earlier. Inside was a thick stack of cash, far more than three months’ wages. He pressed it firmly into Auntie Chen’s hands.
“Sister Chen, thank you for taking care of Ningning all this time. Please accept this as a small token of our gratitude. When you have time, come visit us in Z City.”
Auntie Chen tried to refuse at first, but in the end she accepted, her eyes reddening as she thanked them again and again.
After that, she carefully went over every detail of the flower shop with Mother Jiang, the suppliers, daily operations, even the landlord’s contact information, leaving nothing out.
Finally, Father and Mother Jiang walked her downstairs and watched as she got into a taxi. Only after it disappeared from sight did they turn back.
…
Back in the attic, Father Jiang glanced down at the flower shop below, where vibrant blooms filled every corner.
He rubbed his temples, his tone half teasing, half helpless as he spoke to his wife.
“All these flowers… and you’re really going to let her take care of them? I have my doubts.”
He knew his daughter’s complete lack of patience when it came to anything remotely domestic.
Mother Jiang looked around at the sea of blossoms and let out a small sigh.
“You’re right. Since when has she ever been the type to tend plants? It would be such a waste. While they’re still fresh, let’s lower the prices over the next few days and sell as much as we can. Better that than letting them wilt here.”
Father Jiang nodded in agreement.
A woman of action, Mother Jiang immediately went downstairs. She took down the “Closed for Three Days” sign and pushed open the glass door of Lemon Whisper Florals once more.
Sunlight streamed back into the small shop, filling it with warmth.
Before long, customers began to wander in, drawn by the gentle fragrance of flowers.
After quickly washing up and grabbing a simple breakfast, Jiang Yining came downstairs. The sight that greeted her made her pause.
Her mother stood among the flowers, skillfully trimming stems, pairing colors, and wrapping bouquets with practiced ease.
Though Mother Jiang had not arranged flowers in years, her eye for beauty and her steady hands had not faded. Ordinary carnations and sprigs of baby’s breath seemed to come alive under her touch, transformed into something unexpectedly elegant and quietly moving.