"Zhenjiu, you should have come with Rong Shaoze's group."
Lin Xinlan smiled. Just as she turned her head, something suddenly crossed her mind.
As she was about to turn her head again, a handkerchief soaked with a drug tightly covered her mouth. She struggled for a moment, then fell into unconsciousness.
Lin Xinlan had a very, very long dream.
She dreamt of the time when Xiaocong was just born.
Becoming a mother for the first time, her heart was incredibly complex.
There was bitterness, grievance, happiness, and also gratitude.
Xiaocong grew day by day, clinging to her every day, asking who his father was.
Lin Xinlan tried hard to recall but just couldn't remember who his father was, so she could only repeatedly tell him apologetically.
"Mama doesn't remember."
Xiaocong stomped his feet and said, "Mama, how can you not remember! Such an important thing, how can you not remember!"
Lin Xinlan felt deeply guilty; she really couldn't remember.
