Three days had passed, and on the bedside table, the delicate white porcelain vase that resembled condensed snow held a red Mandara flower. It was still as vibrant and fiery as ever, showing no signs of withering. As Xia Yanxin marveled at its beauty and resilience, she realized it was actually a fake flower, more precisely a high imitation made from resin. Its craftsmanship was so realistic that it looked just like a real mandrake flower, which is why it never wilted.
There was only one man who would send her Mandara flowers—was it Long Yutian? She had drunk too much last night and her memory of the specific events wasn't clear. But one impression was profound: it seemed as though he had visited her. Had that heartbreakingly tender figure from her dreams stepped into reality?
While she was lost in thought, a small figure walked in through the door...
"Mommy!"
