"You tell , what’s going on?" Qin Xiangnuan now sowhat wanted to rush people out; she was thinking about the noodles in her pot, they seed to be ready, edible, and she was also a bit hungry.
"Since that’s the case, I’ll just get straight to the point," Qin Xiangi placed her hands on the table, her delicate fingertips turning sowhat pale with the force she exerted.
"Qin Xiangnuan, Mingming is sick, he needs a bone marrow transplant."
"Oh, leukemia?" Qin Xiangnuan asked indifferently. She wasn’t a bad person herself; from childhood to now, except for a nearly fatal illness when she was young, she hardly ever caught a cold. That must be the scoundrel’s luck. As for Song Mingli, she still felt it was a pity. Born into a third-generation official family, a third-generation wealthy family, with more money than one could spend, more blessings than one could enjoy, what now, getting seriously ill, and with this kind of illness at that.
"You want to donate bone marrow to him?" She wasn’t foolish. Qin Xiangi’s personal visit was precisely for this matter, wasn’t it?
"Yes," Qin Xiangi’s expression beca frenzied, the veins on her arm throbbing. Qin Xiangnuan understood a mother’s anxiety and helplessness, but sorry, she couldn’t empathize.
"Qin Xiangnuan!" Qin Xiangi’s voice suddenly rose several octaves, sounding sowhat piercing to the ear.
"You are Mingming’s aunt, and you share a blood relation with him. We’ve all been checked and aren’t suitable, so now, you’re the only one left. You should know, Mingming is father’s only grandson. If you can save Mingming, I can give you a house."
"A house, huh, Qin Xiangnuan," Qin Xiangi’s voice was filled with temptation, and Qin Xiangnuan was indeed lured by it. Yes, a house, a house! The house she had thought of her entire life, if she had a house, she would have her own ho, her own nest, where she wouldn’t have to fight with others over the bathroom, couldn’t place any valuable items around, and would be cautious of other renters. If she had her own house, she would clean it every day; she would use discarded old cloths from the factory to make table covers, and then make a fabric carpet to lie on when tired. When using the bathroom, she wouldn’t need to shut the door, and when it rains, she wouldn’t have to worry about leaks. She would make several different kinds of fabric flowers to decorate her little ho. Although she was already forty years old, she could still harbor girlish sentints. Those things she once didn’t do, couldn’t do, and felt regretful about, perhaps she could now experience them.
"Qin Xiangnuan, how do you feel about it, a house, and it’s already renovated. I’ll bring all the furniture for you," Qin Xiangi saw Qin Xiangnuan’s distraction and knew she was tempted. In her heart, she scornfully thought, really desperate for money, "This house, you, Qin Xiangnuan, could work yourself to death for a lifeti and still wouldn’t be able to afford even a bathroom. All you have to do is donate bone marrow to my son, and it’s not like it will take your life, nor will it leave you missing an arm or a leg, or an organ. There are plenty who want to donate to him, but only you are his biological aunt."
This speech was one third mockery, but to Qin Xiangnuan, it felt like seven parts jab.
Yet, she had to admit, what Qin Xiangi said was the truth. Qin Xiangi was rich, and she was poor—this simple truth, she could use to determine her life and death with just a decision.
Lifting the cleaned cup from the table, she needed to ponder—should she or should she not agree? Actually, even without the offer of this house, she thought, she would agree, because of that slight blood relation, because, of a teen boy who was only sixteen or seventeen years old.
She wasn’t as heartless as her father was; if he had been willing to spend the money to save her elder brother back then, perhaps her brother would still be alive today.
At this mont, so sunlight folded through the room’s simple glass, casting a bit of warmth upon Qin Xiangi’s unusually pale skin, making it hard to imagine that both were nearly forty years old. One looked like an old woman of sixty, the other still like a young girl of twenty-eight.
Perhaps it was indeed because the sun was too glaring at this mont, for within this less than ten square ters room, it felt as stuffy as a steaming basket. Qin Xiangi, feeling uncomfortable, loosened her collar only to accidentally hook out a very thin chain, and at the end of the chain dangled a piece of jade no bigger than the cap of her little finger. The jade had no particular shape, being irregular, but it shined with a lustrous light that was pleasant to the eyes, inviting one to touch it.
Qin Xiangi noticed that Qin Xiangnuan’s gaze was fixed inside her collar. She lowered her head, saw the necklace hanging around her neck, and hastily stuffed it back inside, then pretended as if nothing had happened as she straightened her clothes. However, a flash of panic that was inexplicable to Qin Xiangnuan crossed her face.
Qin Xiangnuan squinted her eyes, a flicker of light that was at tis bright and at tis dim fell between them, her regret was unfathomable.
"That’s my mother’s necklace, can you give it back to ?" Her voice was hollow, and sohow a breeze blew in, making Qin Xiangi feel very uncomfortable inside.
She stood up abruptly.
"Qin Xiangnuan, you are going to the hospital tomorrow. Dad is also coming; you better not make him co to fetch you himself," she said, then left the place without looking back. Her high heels seed out of place as they tapped on the ground, the noise sowhat disordered, and she absolutely did not ntion anything about that necklace.
Qin Xiangnuan let out an indifferent laugh.
She no longer wanted it back. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted it before. As a child, each ti she asked for it, she would be beaten by her stepmother. Afraid of pain, she stopped asking for it, even though that thing rightfully belonged to her. Later, as she grew up, she lost that desire entirely.
However, this would forever be an unhealable cut in her heart.
It was left by her biological mother and personally tied around her neck by her elder brother. If at that ti the jade hadn’t been snatched away, perhaps if she had sold the jade, her brother could have lived.
There were too many maybes and too many ifs in this world, but her brother has been truly gone for over twenty years. All she can do now is to cherish the mory, and then live out the small remainder of her life.
The next day, she found a piece of clothing that was relatively new. Wearing this piece, she looked sowhat respectable. In the mirror, she was still the middle-aged woman with sparse yellow hair, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes even deeper, the corners of her mouth drooping - she was indeed getting old.
"Bang bang bang..." At this mont, a series of knocking on the door ca from outside, mixed with so cursing.
She walked over and opened the door.
With a smack, her ear buzzed, and a searing pain spread across her face.
"You ungrateful wretch, we raised you all these years for nothing. Mingming is the Qin Family’s only grandson. You can’t have children of your own, fine, but do you also have to cut off your sister’s lineage? If I knew you were such a heartless creature, I should have strangled you when you were born. You were born from ; you owe the Qin Family’s life. Now, give your life back to , give it back for my grandson."
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