How long had it been? She didn’t know.
In Ye Xingmian’s eyes, it felt like only a blink from summer to spring. What about the autumn and winter in between? She had never seen them, but it didn’t matter.
Perhaps that was just how the climate worked here? Aside from the scorching summer, the other seasons were all as warm as spring.
She felt as if several years, or even a century, had passed.
Every second spent living with her mother was so sweet. Over that long time, Ye Xingmian had gradually grown used to this calm yet cozy life.
It was as if she had been born this way, as if it had always been this way, and as if it would remain so forever.
The villa was built among a cluster of mountains, where the grass was lush and green, and there was a waterfall. The sound of the waterfall was loud, and many fish lived downstream.
Occasionally she would go fishing with her mother, and it didn’t matter if they caught none—someone or other would always deliver fresh fish to the house, and they could still eat them at night.
Today was a clear day, with warm sunlight and sparkling reflections from the mountain stream that flowed past.
Last night she had accidentally tripped and twisted her right ankle. It didn’t hurt, but moving was inconvenient. Ye Xingmian wore a sun hat and held her mother’s hand.
There was no one else around. On both sides of the river stretched vast fields of blooming rapeseed.
The smell of the rapeseed fields wasn’t very pleasant, but they were golden and beautiful, bathed in sunlight.
For some reason, even though so much time had passed, Ye Xingmian felt as if she had become much shorter, barely reaching up to her mother’s chin.
Walking through the flower fields, she quietly stared at her mother’s profile, lost in thought.
Her mother was as beautiful as ever today, with a gentle smile on her lips and long black hair cascading down her shoulders. Ye Xingmian rarely saw her mother with her hair tied up, but she had never asked why.
Because her mother looked very nice with her hair down—very gentle. She liked it.
Liking it was enough. There was no need to raise any objections.
Her mother wore a large sun hat on her head, and she herself wore a small one. Her mother’s hat was really big—almost as big as the magic hats in Western fantasy stories.
It wasn’t bought; they had woven it together.
As for when she had learned to weave straw hats, or when they had actually made it—none of that mattered.
Ye Xingmian had never thought about those things. She just felt that doing so made her happy and content, and so she had that experience.
Although the sunlight was strong, it wasn’t harsh. Under the comfortable light, a cool breeze swept by from time to time. There were no annoying insects either. Everything was just right.
She deliberately stopped, and as expected, her concerned mother turned her head.
“Hmm? Mianmian? Why did you stop?”
Those pink eyes, tinged with confusion, looked at her. She could even see her own clear reflection in them.
She smiled a little sheepishly, though she didn’t even know why she felt embarrassed. It was only natural, but this seemed more fitting somehow?
“Mom, my ankle hurts.”
She was lying. Her ankle didn’t hurt at all. She couldn’t even recall any feeling of discomfort, but for the sake of her little goal, she chose to lie.
So she shouldn’t be blamed.
Lying wasn’t something a good child did, but her mother loved her very much now, and this was just a tiny bit of willfulness.
“Hmm? Ankle hurts? Is it from the fall yesterday?”
“Probably…”
“Can you still walk? Do you want to go home?”
“No… Mom, can you carry me on your back?”
She smiled as she said this. Her mother was startled at first, then also seemed to understand and smiled.
“Ah, I can’t do anything with you.”
Her mother crouched down to let her climb onto her back.
For some reason, her height seemed to have shrunk a lot, almost to the point of a four- or five-year-old child.
But that was just right.
A small child was light and wouldn’t tire her mother.
This was a little wish of Ye Xingmian’s—to be comfortably carried on her mother’s back when she was small.
“…Thank you, Mom!”
She jumped onto her mother’s back, and a fragrance of hair filled her nostrils. It smelled wonderful, with a calming magic about it.
Her small chest pressed against her mother’s sturdy back, a little oppressive at first, but after adjusting, it was just the relief of freeing her legs.
“Mmm~”
Satisfied, Ye Xingmian narrowed her eyes.
“Hehe… satisfied?”
After standing up, her mother turned her head, looking at her with gentle eyes.
Under the shadow of the brim, that gentle and beautiful profile seemed so reassuring.
Ye Xingmian blushed and shrank her head.
“Um… Mom, am I heavy?”
“Not heavy at all. My Mianmian is lighter than a feather~”
“Hehe~”
“Then I’m relieved. I won’t squish Mom, won’t be a big burden. That’s fine. I can… relax and enjoy this moment.”
Somewhere in a distant, blurry memory, a forgotten corner.
In that place, she had never been carried by her mother, nor held in her arms. It had always been that way ever since she could remember.
When was that memory from?
Ye Xingmian, her thoughts in disarray, couldn’t tell.
It was just a sudden thought, like fragmented pieces flashing before her eyes.
Her intuition told her it wasn’t something worth paying attention to.
She was dazed for only a moment, then returned to the happiness before her.
The stream flowed, washing over pebbles on the bank with a rustling sound. Walking along the narrow muddy path through the rapeseed fields, the swishing of her skirt against the flower stems.
The sun was still bright, and the air was filled with a sweet scent.
“Mom, is that a butterfly?”
Ye Xingmian pointed childishly into the distance.
Ye Zhiyun looked up and nodded.
“Mm, it’s a butterfly. Haven’t you seen one, Mianmian?”
Logically, after living here so long, not having seen a butterfly was unbelievable.
But Ye Xingmian didn’t notice the abnormality. She only vaguely felt something was off.
“Mm… I haven’t.”
“Then let’s go closer and have a look.”
She let her mother carry her over to the butterfly.
It had wings as full and beautiful as sapphire, with black patterns, resting on a flower.
“Mianmian, are you afraid of it?” Ye Zhiyun asked with a smile.
Hesitating, Ye Xingmian had always been quite afraid of bugs.
But butterflies seemed a little different; their beautiful appearance made them a bit more acceptable.
Thinking so, Ye Xingmian nodded.
“I… I guess I’m okay.”
“Then do you want to try reaching out your hand and see if it will fly onto your finger?”
“Huh?”
Seeing her hesitate, Ye Zhiyun began to encourage her.
“Don’t be afraid. Just try. If it really happens, it might be a very memorable experience, right?”
Encouraged like that, Ye Xingmian took a deep breath, finally gathered her courage, and stretched out her finger toward the butterfly.
As if sensing something, the butterfly took off from the flower and flew toward her.
But at that very moment, a drop of rain fell from the sky.
Then another drop, and more and more.
Ye Xingmian looked up in panic. The sun in the sky had vanished, replaced by thick, dark clouds. The world turned pitch black.
The rain quickly became a downpour.
The blue butterfly, battered by the raindrops, couldn’t bear the weight and fell onto the muddy ground, unable to fly again, just like the fallen petals around it.
Ye Xingmian silently withdrew her hand.
“It’s raining. We should go home.”
Even though it was raining so hard, with so much noise.
Her mother’s voice was as clear as if it had directly sounded in her mind, her tone utterly flat.
Her gaze dimmed. Ye Xingmian softly replied, “Mm.”