Mother Qi glanced at her daughter with a complicated expression before letting out a quiet sigh. "Jianyi, I didn’t raise you with love and affection just for you to grow up and judge soone else’s pain. I didn’t teach you compassion just so you could take soone’s suffering lightly. Just because sothing didn’t hurt you doesn’t an it didn’t wound soone else deeply."
Qi Jianyi lowered her gaze, unable to bear the disappointnt etched across her mother’s face. She bowed her head and softly admitted her fault. "I know, Mom... It was wrong of to judge her," she whispered, voice laced with regret.
"Back then, I was still young and confused. Everything felt too surreal, too overwhelming. But now, when I think back on it, I realise how cruel I must have sounded. I shouldn’t have added salt to wounds that weren’t mine to begin with." Mother Qi didn’t respond imdiately. She simply sighed again, heavier this ti.
She understood—more than anyone—that her daughter had suffered too. After all, Qi Jianyi had also been thrust into a reality that wasn’t hers, forced to endure the pain of another life. Even she, as a mother, couldn’t confidently say she wouldn’t have broken down had she woken up in another world and been asked to abandon her own life.
After a long pause, Mother Qi finally spoke, her voice soft and deliberate. "Then... Do you regret your decision? Do you ever wish to go back?"
Her words settled into the silence like a heavy stone. She looked at her daughter intently, watching the way Qi Jianyi’s eyes widened with disbelief. It was clear that she hadn’t expected such a question—not from her.
"Regret?" Qi Jianyi echoed, her voice slightly raised. She stared at her mother as if she’d just said sothing absurd.
"Mom, what are you talking about?" She looked completely baffled, even a little offended.
"I tried so hard. It took months. MONTHS! To find a way back. I went through so much just to return ho. Why would I want to go back to that world after everything I endured to leave it?" Her tone trembled slightly.
"Do you think I would’ve fought so hard if I had any intention of going back?" Only she truly knew the despair, the desperation, the pain she had clawed through to get back to her own reality.
The thought of returning to that foreign world—of leaving everything she loved behind again—was unbearable.
If regret existed in her, then what was the point of fighting so hard to co ho?
Mother Qi remained composed despite her daughter’s outburst. Her deep black eyes t Qi Jianyi’s with quiet persistence. She didn’t speak, but the calm intensity in her gaze made Qi Jianyi’s voice falter and her heart tremble.
"There is sothing—soone—that your heart still longs for in that world, Jianyi," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Qi Jianyi froze. Her expression shifted as she fell into a sudden silence, her brows gently furrowing. She didn’t respond, but the silence spoke volus.
"You can lie to all you want. You can deny it a hundred tis. But deep down, you know the truth." Her mother’s words were gentle but firm, cutting through the space between them.
However, Qi Jianyi gave a small shake of her head, then looked at her mother and smiled faintly. "I do miss him," she admitted quietly.
"But Mom... the mont I chose him, I already knew that we were never ant to last. I knew we were just two stars passing in each other’s orbit. I cherished the ti we had, and for , that was enough." She paused, her voice catching slightly.
"This is my world. This is where I belong. With you, and with the rest of our family." Her eyes shimred with a quiet grief.
"There are days when it’s hard. Days when I feel suffocated, like all of it was just a dream—like he was a dream. But no matter how painful it gets, I will never wish to go back to that world. Not because I didn’t love him, but because...I need my family more than I need anyone else." Qi Jianyi closed her eyes, hiding her pain.
"What I regret isn’t leaving that world to return to you and dad, mom.It’s that I couldn’t love Song Chengfeng enough. In the end, I made a choice that left him to bear the consequences alone, And I have no way to undo it." Mother Qi’s expression changed then—her strength wavering beneath a deep sorrow. She reached out and gently held her daughter’s hands, warmth flowing through the contact.
"Do you want to know what your father and I regret the most in this life?" she asked, her voice unexpectedly somber.
Qi Jianyi blinked in confusion.
"What is it?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
"That we failed to give you the kind of youth you deserved," Mother Qi confessed.
"We let you see too much of our struggles. Our tired faces, our worried sighs...They made you feel responsible, as if you had to help us. And when we finally realised the burden you had silently taken on, it was already too late." She gently patted the back of Qi Jianyi’s hand, her voice shaking with emotion.
Qi Jianyi opened her mouth to speak, to deny it, but her mother raised a hand and softly said, "We’ve always been proud of you, Jianyi. You’re more than we could have ever hoped for in a daughter. Any parent would count themselves lucky to have you. But pride aside, we never wanted you to bear the weight of our shortcomings. You were still a child. You should’ve been out there, laughing with your friends, exploring the world, making mistakes—living." Mother Qi let out a bitter chuckle, mocking herself with a sad smile.
"But instead, you spent your nights hunched over manuscripts, chasing deadlines while the rest of your peers were chasing dreams. We saw it all. We watched how hard you worked, how you silently shouldered everything. No matter how many tis we tried to stop you, you kept going. You took responsibilities that weren’t yours, made sacrifices we should’ve never let you make. And for that, we failed you. Then, we failed to protect you when you needed us most." Mother Qi closed her eyes for a mont, the pain clear in her trembling lashes. She rembered the look on Qi Jianyi’s face when she ca ho bringing a stack of cash, proudly saying that she now can help the family too.
Both Mother Qi and Father Qi had been left stunned by their daughter’s actions. Never once had they imagined receiving help from their own child. After all, wasn’t it the duty of parents to bear the weight of hardship, to shield their children from struggle?
But unbeknownst to them, Qi Jianyi had already sensed the quiet suffering they endured behind closed doors. Without saying a word, she made up her mind to carry part of that burden with them.
In the end, they couldn’t bring themselves to reject her help. Not when she stood before them with that proud, determined look in her eyes. And so, they said nothing. Yet, neither of them ever expected that their daughter’s sense of responsibility would grow so heavy that she would give up her own childhood for it.
They tried, countless tis, to stop her. But Qi Jianyi was stubborn, always brushing off their concerns with a reassuring smile. Seeing that they couldn’t sway her decision, they relented, choosing instead to quietly support her while doing their best to ensure she didn’t push herself past her limits. They even went so far as to save every cent she earned, secretly setting it aside for her future education.
Mother Qi’s eyes dimd with sadness as she gently stroked her daughter’s hair. "When you ca ho that day, with your shoulders slumped and your eyes filled with pain because of the public’s harsh words... your father and I, we regretted it so much." Her voice softened, laced with aching tenderness.
"We regretted not stopping you sooner." She took a breath, her touch becoming more affectionate.
"Jianyi, you coming into our lives was the greatest gift we’ve ever received. Watching you hurt, hearing you cry yourself to sleep—it broke us more than we could ever say." A tear slipped down Qi Jianyi’s cheek as she listened, her throat tightening with every word.
"So when you decided to walk away from writing... to withdraw from that industry, we supported you without hesitation. Your father even made a silent vow to himself—that no matter what it took, he would work harder, so that you’d never feel the need to step back into that world again." Mother Qi smiled wistfully, her eyes glimring with mory.
"When you told us that you wanted to start your own hotel business, your father was over the moon. You didn’t see it, but that night, he was grinning to himself like a fool. To him, that dream of yours was a sign—you were finally letting go of the past." Her voice quivered slightly.
"While the world wished for your return to the lilight, your father tried his best to shield you from their voices. Because while they missed your work to satisfy their own admiration... all he wanted was for his daughter to be safe, and happy." By the ti Mother Qi finished her words, Qi Jianyi was already a ss.
Her tears fell without restraint, soaking the back of her trembling hands as she tried—and failed—to muffle the sounds of her sobs. Her chest tightened with every breath, overwheld by the weight of everything unsaid between them, of all the years she spent pretending to be strong.
And then, like a child lost and found, Qi Jianyi crawled into her mother’s arms. Mother Qi embraced her without hesitation, wrapping her daughter tightly in her arms as if trying to shield her from all the pain that ever touched her. Her heart ached at the sound of Qi Jianyi’s cries—raw, broken, and unfiltered. The kind of sobbing that ca from the deepest corners of the soul.
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