Chapter 68 Love and Charity

This was the first time I saw the goddess Su bounding around me like a child, taking my hand as we walked down the path that would change my life forever. Su Xuefei recounted many stories from her university days and shared heartfelt feelings she had never expressed during high school. I listened intently, gradually forgetting the stiffness in my body and the slight headache that had somewhat eased.

We stopped in front of a noodle shop, and I gently held Su Xuefei’s soft hand to pause. “You must be hungry,” she said, as if sensing my hunger, and she led the way up the steps.

I nodded and followed her inside. The small restaurant had only one other table occupied besides us, which suited me perfectly. My ears, somewhat dulled, struggled with noisy places; only close conversations could I barely catch, and loud environments were a torment for me now.

The waiter kindly handed us the menu. I stared at the listed dishes but hesitated, finally ordering the cheapest beef noodle soup after a long wait.

“Two bowls of beef noodles,” Su Xuefei said as she handed back the menu, then sat across from me, gazing into my eyes with a vacant look.

I wondered what she was thinking—was she still considering sending me to Kyoto for treatment?

“Yang Chen,” she called softly.

Her voice pulled me out of my scattered thoughts. I looked at her—still beautiful despite the slight weariness etched on her face.

“Nothing,” Su Xuefei murmured, lowering her head, hesitating but ultimately choosing silence.

I noticed her usually smooth, flowing hair was now somewhat disheveled; her fair cheeks, usually flushed, had paled. A pang of sadness struck me. Leaning forward, I brushed her hair back over her shoulder. She obediently allowed me to stroke her long tresses.

Gently running my hand from top to bottom through her hair, Su Xuefei suddenly grasped my hand. A faint blush spread across her delicate face as she looked into my eyes and softly said, “From now on, you are my boyfriend.”

Her heartfelt words stirred something deep inside me, yet I remained silent, neither nodding nor shaking my head.

Seeing my hesitation, her expression shifted. Suddenly, she stood and wrapped her arms around my neck, her smooth forehead resting gently against mine. Her words came slowly and haltingly, “I never imagined there could be such cruel mothers—forcing their children out in the freezing cold to earn money by selling these summer flowers.”

After hearing the little girl’s story, Su Xuefei and I exchanged a glance and nodded silently. Before I could react, she had already taken out her wallet, pulling all the bills inside and slipping them into the girl’s pocket. I added the few coins I had, then gently tucked a rose into the child’s hair.

“Little sister, you should go home now,” Su Xuefei said softly, instinctively touching the scarf around her neck.

“Thank you,” the girl said, trembling slightly. Seeing her fragile state, something inside me ached.

Su Xuefei hailed a cab, helped the girl inside, and carefully gave the driver directions, reminding him repeatedly before finally leaving.

I watched the large bouquet Su Xuefei held—many flowers wilted, the rest lacking vitality. Even if someone truly needed them, who would want to buy such lifeless blooms?

“If we don’t take these flowers, she’ll be forced to come back out and sell them again, right?” Su Xuefei asked softly, looking down at the fading petals on her chest.

I nodded. A mother like that would do anything.

“I’m starting to miss Xiaoya,” Su Xuefei said as we walked side by side. I took the flowers from her hands. “I don’t even know how she’s been lately; she hasn’t called.”

Hearing her mention Xiaoya, I too felt a pang of longing for that little girl. Though I didn’t know her true feelings, she probably considered Su Xuefei and me her closest family. How fragile is familial love in this world—so easily broken for a mere scrap of gain, hurting children who understand nothing.

Feeling the chill intensify in the cold wind, I worried about Su Xuefei catching a cold. We reached the roadside, ready to hail a cab to take her home, but then I remembered I’d already given all my money to the little girl. My pockets were empty. I looked helplessly at Su Xuefei.

She seemed to notice my embarrassment, offering a wry smile. “I don’t have any money either.”

I glanced around, searching for a bank—was it possible we had to walk back in this weather?

Before I could think of a better solution, my phone rang. The ringtone I once loved now sounded like noise, unbearable and painful.