[Ever since then, I started frequently going to the Red-Light District. Every time, I’d order a cocktail with a low alcohol content at the usual spot, careful not to get as drunk as last time. I sat at the most conspicuous spot at the bar, pushed the surrounding chairs aside, and used ‘waiting for company’ as an excuse to refuse all other invitations, hoping to meet that familiar woman again. But things didn’t go as I wished.]
‘Don’t use this seemingly romantic reason as an excuse for your own [beep — ]!’
[For a long time, I drank alone, and this wasn’t the experience I was seeking here. I began to waver, thinking maybe I should find a similar substitute, rather than obsess over that elusive person as insubstantial as smoke.]
‘Six hundred sixty-six, and melodrama to boot. You really are the number one Tongren Writer.’
[But just as I had that thought, that familiar figure appeared in my line of sight again. Although I could only see her back, I recognized her identity at a glance and immediately gave chase. When I finally caught up, she sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of strong liquor—something so potent you could probably light it with a lighter. She downed it in one gulp, not even pausing. The act stunned me.]
[I wanted to stop her, but the liquor was already down her throat—too late. Helplessly, I sat beside her and tried to start a conversation. To my surprise, she seemed to have no memory of me. Had I remembered wrong?]
‘You jerk, all the stuff before was just a gimmick you made up, wasn’t it? To recall things so clearly—definitely made up!’
[Luckily, we still quickly found common ground. When I brought up my adoptive mother, Irina, her calm ice-blue eyes narrowed slightly and she coughed a few times, as if to cover up her inner turmoil. But then she began to talk about Irina, sharing all sorts of things I’d seen online—and even a few secrets I’d never heard before.]
[She told me Irina wasn’t as bad as people thought; sometimes she couldn’t help herself—being a connector yet not having a choice? I didn’t really understand, but soon realized she only spoke of Irina’s good side, as if trying to excuse my adoptive mother whom she’d supposedly never met.]
‘What the hell, could you stop bringing up the adoptive mother thing? Claiming relatives wherever you go—is that it? Believe it or not, with a tap of my finger, you won’t be posting anything anymore.’
Although Su Mu thought this bitterly, doubt still lingered in her heart.
It didn’t feel like everything was a lie; it seemed some truths were mixed in.
[Thinking back to the photo Irina posted recently, I couldn’t help but feel suspicious. Both had pink hair, their builds weren’t too different—maybe there really was some unspeakable connection, or perhaps she was Irina herself.]
“Makes sense.”
Tang Nai suddenly chimed in, and at her words, Su Mu nearly snorted in frustration.
“Isn’t this just pure nonsense? You think I sneak out every night to drink? I hate alcohol the most.”
“Really? What if she’s your half-sister?”
“I don’t have any sister…..”
[There are some differences. Irina should be a magical girl under twenty, but she gives off this mature, melancholic aura, sipping drinks throughout our conversation—nothing like someone her age.]
Reading further, Su Mu froze, the words she wanted to say stuck in her throat as a possibility formed in her mind.
[But soon, I realized the reason: Irina, despite being so young, is already my adoptive mother. She should naturally have the air of a mature woman.]
‘Damn you, you rascal!’
[At that moment, I understood why Irina had vanished recently—probably because she’d fallen on hard times and had to make a living this way. Before we parted, I took a photo with her, to prove to everyone that I’m not lying.]
‘Fine, let me see…..’
In the picture, the pink-haired woman’s cheeks were flushed, stray hair falling messily over her forehead.
She was huddled close to a slightly nervous-looking black-haired girl; the former was clearly more cheerful, and she was obviously holding the camera.
Both their faces had been blurred, so you couldn’t see their features clearly.
Still, it was obvious the pink-haired woman had an alluring maturity.
Beneath her slightly open collar, the tempting cleavage could be glimpsed, leaving people—like Tang Nai—dumbfounded by those curves, but Su Mu’s gaze stayed fixed on her face.
Others might not notice, but Su Mu could never mistake it—it was her mother, after living under the same roof for more than a decade.
The instant she realized this, Su Mu nearly snapped her game console in half, slender fingers gripping the glass edge tightly, inner waves roiling in her heart.
‘Impossible. I have to ask her face-to-face, I must…..’
“Interesting. This little one beside her kind of looks like me when I was young.” At this, Tang Nai spoke again, breaking Su Mu’s train of thought and drawing her attention to the other person in the photo.
Looking more closely, Su Mu soon noticed something odd.
She squinted, zooming in on the picture and tilting her head to examine it over and over.
The blurred face slowly became clearer in her imagination—until it turned into Lu Shan!
‘So, it was you, this mischievous Mi Xian, pulling tricks on me? I teach you the art of disguise, and this is how you repay me? I’m about to get angry, ha!’
Su Mu swiped up, and sure enough, saw the familiar ID—Mi Xian Shan.
This time, though, the profile picture had changed to an even cuter Naolong, which was why she’d subconsciously ignored it earlier.
‘Mi! Xian! Using me as a joke? Watch me poke my finger—are you finished yet?!’
Su Mu decisively tapped Mi Xian’s profile, hit the mute button, and the avatar immediately dimmed.
“You know her?” Tang Nai turned to ask, but Su Mu didn’t reply.
Instead, she opened a private chat with Mi Xian, waiting for her explanation.
As expected, just three seconds later, a plea for mercy came through.
[“Sorry, Senior Irina! I don’t know what Mi Xian did wrong, but if you tell me, I’ll change it right away! Please, spare me—I’ll starve otherwise!”]
Su Mu let out a cold laugh, her fingers flying across the virtual keyboard.
[“It’s fine, you did nothing wrong. I just happened to see a certain unsavory post during my routine check, so I muted the poster. The content wasn’t really that offensive—just a little out of line.”]
Mi Xian was silent for half a minute.
[“Senior, listen, would you believe me if I said I didn’t make that post?”]
[“Explain?”]
Su Mu didn’t push further.
She knew Mi Xian wouldn’t do something so reckless, nor did she have the skill to pull off this kind of impersonation.
There must be more to it.
[“But you have to explain drinking with my mom today—no exceptions!”]