Chapter 128: Reunion

A tall, graceful figure stood upright, clearly dressed for the cold in a way Su Yao wasn’t; Mu Nanqiu was obviously more tolerant of winter.

Su Yao couldn’t wait to wrap her arms around her waist, resting her head on her shoulder, burying her face in the crook of her neck. The reassuring scent she carried filled Su Yao’s every breath. Although it had only been a dozen days apart, it felt like more than half a year.

Before seeing her, Su Yao felt an emptiness in her heart, noisy and unsettled. The moment she saw her, that feeling vanished, as if the hole inside had been filled, a strange and wonderful sensation that left Su Yao feeling a little light-headed.

Mu Nanqiu hugged Su in return, gently running her hand through her hair, her voice overflowing with affection as she spoke.
“So you missed me that much?”

“…..”

Su Yao blushed, her ears turning red. She wanted to let go, but Mu Nanqiu held her down.

“If you want to hug me, just hug a little longer.”

“Mm.”

Only after making up for the days apart and replenishing their energy did the two finally separate. Su Yao looked at the gentle smile on Mu Nanqiu’s beautiful face, which made her feel embarrassed and drop her gaze, wondering if her behavior just now had been a bit too coquettish.

She was quick to regret things.

Between the two, Mu Nanqiu was always the one taking the initiative. She grabbed one of Su Yao’s small, clasped hands and intertwined their fingers. The warmth in Mu Nanqiu’s palm made Su Yao instinctively grip back a little tighter, drawing even closer to her.

After wandering the streets together for a bit, Mu Nanqiu led her to a small park, where they found a bench.

There was no snow on the bench—it seemed someone had cleared it that morning. Traces of snow remained on the ground. Stepping on the crunchy, frozen snow, they sat down. Su Yao glanced at Mu Nanqiu’s profile, then slowly rested her head on her shoulder, gradually relaxing.

“Nanqiu, you have no idea what I’ve been through these last few days. Traveling near Spring Festival is really exhausting, so many people…”

Mu Nanqiu naturally knew that not only the stations but the roads were full of people. Compared to usual, the city was much quieter—most places closed on Spring Festival itself. Though she’d had her own share of things happen these days, Mu Nanqiu wanted more to hear how Su Yao had gotten through hers.

Su Yao started almost from the very beginning, telling what she packed that day, when she set off, when she boarded the bus, the people she saw along the way, how she rushed from one bus to another on an empty stomach only to realize she hadn’t brought any food and had to wait until the next day to buy something. All the helplessness she felt.

She went on to describe conversations with neighbors, the curious things she saw in town, and even the story Uncle Su told her. She spared no detail, describing everything she saw and thought, sharing it all with Mu Nanqiu without reservation.

Mu Nanqiu listened quietly, watching her all the while, until Su Yao described watching fireworks, then the exhausting return trip, all the way up to their reunion today.

By the time she finished, Su Yao was a little out of breath, her throat feeling as if it was about to catch fire. She’d nearly spoken as many words today as she did in an entire year. She was only so talkative today because she was excited; normally, she was very sparing with her words.

After swallowing, trying to soothe her dry throat, she heard Mu Nanqiu speak softly in her ear.
“Yaoyao, you really are a good storyteller.”

“N-no, not really, hehe~”

“How not? Your voice is so nice—soft, sweet, and not at all forced. Very natural.”

“R-really?”

“Of course. Yaoyao, you’re amazing.”

Mu Nanqiu was praising her a bit hard, but it wasn’t all flattery—her voice really was special and very pleasant to hear.

Su Yao was the kind who got shy easily when praised, especially by someone she cared about. It made her feel like her whole body was floating in the air, a little dizzy. Mu Nanqiu didn’t stop there, but went on.

“With such a lovely voice, would you read to me sometime?”

“Sure, of course.”

“It’s a promise, then!”

“Mm, a gentleman’s word is worth four horses—irrevocable.”

Under Mu Nanqiu’s gentle guidance, and still dizzy from the praise, Su Yao agreed without a second thought, not even considering what she might face in the future.

Back to the main point, Mu Nanqiu reached out and gently pinched Su Yao’s cheek, saying,

“You’ve worked hard.”

Su Yao froze, her eyes turning a little misty, but no tears fell. She just answered softly, “Mm.”

It was like a child being pampered, followed by a round of affectionate touches.

After a long separation, of course they had to be a little clingy for a while. From morning till night, Mu Nanqiu took Su Yao to all the fun spots nearby. Knowing Su Yao didn’t care for fancy hotel meals and preferred cheap fast food or little eateries, Mu Nanqiu hesitated to take her to the small shops—she couldn’t handle spicy food. In the end, she brought Su Yao to eat some fried chicken instead.

At least there was her favorite, most stress-relieving part: feeding Su Yao. Watching Su Yao get full and satisfied from just a simple meal, Mu Nanqiu couldn’t help but sigh softly, “So easy to please.” Su Yao overheard her, causing her to drop her chicken wing and lose the nerve to eat boldly for the rest of the meal.

Just days ago, Su Yao had thought a single day lasted so, so long. But now, it seemed so short; before she knew it, the day was nearly over, and she had to part from Mu Nanqiu.

She thought, if only there could be a day when they could truly spend the whole day together, saying good morning and good night in person—how wonderful that would be. Of course, it was just a thought; she never expected Mu Nanqiu would live with her someday. Being able to see each other every day was already more than enough; she dared not wish for more.

Just as they were about to say goodbye, Mu Nanqiu suddenly asked Su Yao,

“Yaoyao, do you really want to know what happened in the past? It may not be a happy story.”

Upon hearing the question, Su Yao fell silent for a while before answering.

“Whether it’s good or bad, it doesn’t really matter. Sometimes we only chase after the truth to satisfy our own curiosity.”

“All right. I understand.”

Mu Nanqiu understood what Su Yao meant, and decided to offer her a little help with this matter.

Alone, it would be hard to uncover a truth buried so many years ago. But Su Yao was no longer alone—she had Mu Nanqiu’s support. With her help, it wouldn’t take long to find the answer.

“Thank you.”

After hearing those two words, Mu Nanqiu was about to say something, but Su had already turned and started running off. Watching her figure disappear, Mu Nanqiu smiled wryly, letting out a sigh as she muttered to herself.

“There are so many simple, direct ways to get to the point, but I insist on taking the slowest road. Honestly…”

She didn’t finish her sentence before starting her car.

Back at her apartment, Mu Nanqiu picked up her phone and dialed a number.

These days, most things could be solved with a single call. If not, a few more would do it—if you or your family had enough influence, there was no need for explanations, things just got done.

To investigate a girl’s background, especially with so much known information, was not difficult—just a matter of time.

The next time they met, Mu Nanqiu handed Su Yao some documents. After reading them over, Su Yao summed it up: the documents clearly stated that her mother had given birth to a baby boy. She squeezed her thigh—down there, she definitely wasn’t a tree branch.

She didn’t look like her father, which could mean someone else was involved. But when neither parent bore much resemblance… there was only one possibility left.

Mu Nanqiu pulled Su Yao into her arms, lips softly parting as she spoke.

“Yaoyao, have you ever heard of this? In a Zoo, a Tigress gave birth to a tiger cub, but the cub, sadly, died. The Tigress was so grieved she became listless, growing thinner by the day. The keeper came up with an idea: he wrapped a Piglet in fake tiger skin and presented it to the Tigress. The Tigress didn’t eat it, but instead played with the Piglet.”

“So, am I the Piglet?”

“When a mother loses her child and adopts another, giving the adopted one the name of the lost child and loving them as her own, it’s called Emotional Compensation Behavior.”

“Is it possible I was just switched at birth?”

“You were discharged normally—there’s no possibility of a mix-up. Besides… Yaoyao, you weren’t adopted through normal channels…”

Mu Nanqiu saw no sadness or gloom on Su Yao’s face, only a sense of realization.

“I see. Thank you, Nanqiu. Without you, I might never have learned any of this.”

“Have you ever thought it would be better not to know?”

“It’s still better to know. After finding out, I actually feel much more at ease.”

Su Yao faced the truth calmly. Whether it had really been like that in the past, she didn’t know, but now, it was simply her history.

“Yaoyao, do you want to keep digging deeper?”

“I… actually, I’d like to see, just once.”

Mu Nanqiu hugged Su Yao tightly, and after a long moment, she spoke.

“I understand. A few days from now.”

“Mm.”

Mu Nanqiu looked at the photo sent to her phone, frowning. The woman in the picture was beautiful, with features strikingly similar to Su Yao—like a comparison of youth and maturity.

She took a deep breath, deciding to ask her own mother.

Mrs. Mu had connections among the local wives’ circle; maybe she could find out something useful.

As soon as she stepped inside, she saw a girl chatting and laughing with her mother. When the girl saw Mu Nanqiu enter, she immediately restrained her expression, as if frightened, not daring to meet her gaze.

Mu Nanqiu gave a cold laugh—Gu Qin’s account would be settled later. There were more pressing matters now.