Kasahara Fumi shook her head from side to side, letting her mother admire her from every angle.
A fair and slender neck, a graceful figure, legs so beautiful you’d want to hold her in your arms forever.
"Such a beautiful daughter, I really don’t want to give her away to anyone else." Mrs. Kasahara embraced her daughter from behind, resting her chin comfortably on her shoulder, her fingertips gently touching her cheek, "Hey, tell , how did that Fujiwara boy manage to woo you away?"
"He hasn’t yet." Kasahara Fumi replied.
There was not a hint of hesitation or shyness in her words, leaving her mother sowhat disappointed.
The wind blew rainwater onto the veranda, a few withered leaves fell to the floor, creating a slight autumnal feeling.
Kasahara Fumi was always silent, and Mrs. Kasahara, holding her from behind, rubbed her chin against her shoulder, curiously asking, "Did he tell you everything?"
"Uh-huh..." Fukaeri drooped her head.
Only in front of her mother would she display such a vulnerable posture.
The tender caress from behind made her feel a bit wronged and also sowhat useless. Yet, she understood herself; even if she pretended to be aloof and indifferent to outsiders, she could never keep that up in front of family.
Mrs. Kasahara’s imagination was running wild.
In her eyes, her daughter, with her head low, clearly had sothing on her mind. From the mont they boarded the yacht until now, although she had been trying hard to act as if nothing was wrong, there was a strong hidden struggle within her. This silent struggle was more piercing than any harsh scolding. Though obediently held by her mother, she seed restless, her fingers clutching and then releasing.
"You, my dear, are just too easy to take advantage of." Mrs. Kasahara playfully pinched her daughter’s cheek, "That rascal boy only confides in you because he knows you won’t tell a soul, expressing his sincerity to us through it. How cunning, making you bear the burden of secrecy’s tornt."
"It’s alright..." Fukaeri slightly shook her head.
"Are you still lying?" Mrs. Kasahara almost laughed, sighing.
Fukaeri was at a loss.
In front of her mother, she had no choice but to remain silent.
Confronted with this silent intimacy, Mrs. Kasahara wasn’t bothered, she just held her tenderly, "Alright. I understand. Whatever wrongs you’ve suffered, I’ll get back for you from him, and make him repay doubly, how about that?"
"Ah?" Kasahara Fumi was slightly surprised.
"Don’t worry, I won’t make things difficult for you." Mrs. Kasahara’s mouth curved into a dangerous smile, "A mother can’t stand her daughter being bullied, no matter your feelings for him, let ss with him a bit, okay?"
Kasahara Fumi looked hesitant, like a student asked a difficult math question.
Her mother’s words seed to ask in her ear, "Love... or not?"
Yet there was an indescribable sense of reality in her mother’s simple words.
Fukaeri didn’t resist.
She even sowhat enjoyed it, greedily savoring the sharp joy of the mont.
Amid the pitter-patter of rain, her eyes glistened, her nostrils flared. She turned and, like a child, buried her face in her mother’s arms, softly whining, "Mom, help get back at him..."
Mrs. Kasahara held her head with both hands, as if holding a big child.
"Of course, I will."
"But don’t go too far, I’m worried..."
"Don’t worry, I’ll be mindful of the limits."
"That’s wonderful."
"Whether it’s you or Xiangxiang, I love both of you dearly, how could I bear to let you be troubled." Mrs. Kasahara wrapped her arms around her shoulders, just like cuddling a child.
"I trust you." Kasahara Fumi said, then closed her eyes.
The proud, aloof policewoman, nestled intimately in her mother’s arms, with a clear, distinct blush rising on her cheeks...
Mist rose in the courtyard, a white expanse where the flowers hid themselves.
Birds chirped lodiously, yet no shadow of them could be seen, as if the entire forest was filled with their lilting songs.
Indeed.
This was the scene Fujiwara Reya saw as he entered.
Sister Fukaeri seed almost like a different person, as if her soul had been renewed; even in the dim light, she sparkled like a brilliant pearl, radiant and captivating.
Fujiwara Reya couldn’t comprehend it.
But he was greatly astonished.
The scene was utterly surreal, devoid of color, soundless. It was like watching an old, moldy 8mm film, blurry images being played, evoking a warm sense of nostalgia.
Kasahara Fumi saw him, and her face instantly turned cold.
Without leaving a trace, she slipped out of her mother’s embrace, turned, and clicked her wooden sandals as she walked into the house. Her bright red kimono, with lines gently flowing from shoulder to hem, swayed elegantly, fitting her perfectly.
Fujiwara Reya had no idea what this mother and daughter were up to.
He told himself directly that the two won might be conspiring against him, speaking ill of him. So he put on his most obedient posture, bowing his head in greeting, "Greetings, Madam President."
Mrs. Kasahara gave him a glance and only nodded gently.
"Co in and arrange the flowers with ." She instructed, stepping into the house with a calm, dignified grace.
At that mont, she was identical to her in the board eting, yet distinctly different from the one in a bikini on the yacht; though her beautiful face unchanged, she felt like two completely different great beauties.
Regarding this.
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