The engagement was with the younger brother, but I've fallen for the older brother.

Si Yimian looked up at him, her voice soft, and spoke only to him.

"Thank you, Dr. He."

Then he turned around and faced everyone.

"Grandma is right. If it's not appropriate, it really shouldn't be taken out."

There was no aggression in her tone.

"So I checked in advance, and I'm sure Mom will like it."

She paused and looked at Ruan Qiutang.

"Because I've been preparing this gift for ten years."

People around them whispered among themselves, their eyes shifting from disdain to curiosity.

What gift can you prepare for ten years?

Si Yimian walked up to Ruan Qiutang, squatted down, and placed the gift box on her lap.

"Mom, open it and take a look."

Ruan Qiutang looked at her daughter squatting in front of her and suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

Over the years, what separated them, mother and daughter, was not only the ten-year gap, but also too many unspoken words.

She didn't know what had changed her daughter, but this step had been taken slowly for many years.

She bent down and carefully untied the ribbon.

The box was opened, and everyone craned their necks.

Inside was a hand-bound photo album and a scarf.

The scarf was folded neatly, but the color was a bit faded and the stitching was rough.

The entire room fell silent for a moment.

Then someone couldn't help but snort.

The ladies exchanged glances, their polite smiles barely holding on.

Si Ningyou glanced down and almost burst out laughing.

It doesn't even have a logo. Could it be that it's a free shipping product from Pinduoduo?

Okay, tonight's joke of the year has been born.

With that brain of yours, you think you can outsmart her?

"Mianmian, this scarf..."

Si Ningyou hesitated, carefully choosing her words.

"The stitching seems a bit uneven. Did I not check carefully when I bought it?"

"My mother has sensitive skin, and it's uncomfortable for her to be pricked."

She paused, then added.

"If you're unsure next time, you can ask me, and I'll help you choose."

Qin Enyu chuckled softly in agreement.

"The second young lady really knows how to manage a household; she's so simple and unpretentious."

The old lady, Song Yuehua, sat in her chair and sighed softly.

"Mianmian, your sister is right. Ask more questions before buying gifts next time."

Ruan Qiutang's fingers traced the scarf, and her heart skipped a beat.

The front half of this scarf is smooth, while the back half is rough.

It's like two lives stitched together.

You can see the marks of it being unraveled and re-woven, and then re-unraveled again.

This was made when Mianmian was five years old; she insisted that I knit it for her.

She lost the cotton cloth halfway through knitting, and then she couldn't continue knitting.

Over the years, she moved several times and threw away many things, but she kept only this half scarf.

Now, someone has continued it.

She looked up abruptly, her eyes instantly reddening.

"Stop talking."

Her voice wasn't loud, but her tone was forceful.

Everyone was stunned for a moment.

Ruan Qiutang was always gentle and rarely spoke in this tone.

She ignored everyone's gaze and looked down to flip through the photo album.

The first page is a yellowed newspaper clipping.

Eighteen years ago, a missing person notice was posted.

The girl in the photo with pigtails is laughing carefree.

On the second page, there's a plane ticket stub and a photo of an unfamiliar city.

She stood on the street holding a missing person poster, her hair disheveled by the wind.

Turn the page.

Page by page, year after year.

Thirty-two cities, a ten-year journey.

Every photo was carefully laminated, and every ticket was arranged by time.

These papers had yellowed, and she had never looked back at them after storing them in the box for so many years.

But now they are laminated one by one and neatly bound into booklets.

Ruan Qiutang's tears fell onto the plastic wrap, slid down, and another drop fell.

She recalled those years when she traveled all over the country like a madwoman.

Wherever they went, they handed out flyers, posted missing person notices, and knelt in temples to kowtow.

Ruan Qiutang's hands began to tremble as she turned the pages.

As you flip further down the page, the art style changes.

It's no longer the path for parents to find their children.

It is a gift that a child has saved up for ten years in the mountains.

A dried wildflower, its petals as brittle as paper, its color long gone.

There was a line of crooked words written next to it.

"I want my mother to see spring in the mountains."

Turning the page again, I saw a beautiful feather.

"There are birds on the mountain, very big, that fly very high."

"I want to fly too, to fly home."

"Mom and Dad, Mianmian misses you so much."

Each page contains a small specimen.

The dates range from age five to age fifteen.

The handwriting went from crooked and messy to neat and tidy.

Each item is unremarkable, but they have all been carefully preserved.

I couldn't bear to throw it away, but I dared not give it away either.

Ruan Qiutang covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

In the original story, this gift was kept at the bottom of a box and was not discovered until the original owner jumped to his death.

The gift became a keepsake.

When Ruan Qiutang saw it, she cried so hard that she convulsed and fainted.

Si Yimian felt that the worst deal in the world was to keep one's love hidden away.

I put in a lot of effort to prepare, but it was delivered to a zero, and I couldn't even recoup my costs.

She didn't want to be understood only after the original owner of this body died.

So she found the best studio and repaired each item one by one, sealing each sheet with plastic wrap.

What needs to be framed should be framed, and what needs to be archived should be archived.

Let's turn ten years of heartfelt memories into a photo album that can be passed down through generations.

Because these things deserve to be seen.

This girl deserves to be remembered.

Si Yimian raised her hand and wiped away the tears on Ruan Qiutang's face.

"Mom, I'm giving you this gift because I want to tell you a few things."

Her voice was gentle, but it could be heard throughout the rest area.

"First of all, I know everything about the ten years you were looking for me."

"Secondly, I never forgot you during those years I spent in the mountains."

"The third item..."

She paused, then picked up the scarf and placed it in Ruan Qiutang's hand.

"This scarf shouldn't be an unfinished product, just like the relationship between my daughter and me; it shouldn't always be incomplete."

"You knitted half, I'll knit the other half; you started, I'll finish."

"Just like my life, you gave me the first half, and I have to walk back to where I started in the second half."

The entire place was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The ladies who had been waiting to see the joke were now all teary-eyed.

Ruan Qiutang could no longer hold back and pulled her into his arms, crying uncontrollably.

"Mianmian, I haven't done a good job over the years."

Her voice was so choked up that it was almost inaudible.

Si Yimian was being held by her mother, her chin resting on her mother's shoulder.

"My mother searched for me for ten years and never gave up. That's enough."

Si Congshan found himself standing at the back of the crowd, his eyes reddening.

He walked over, put his arm around Ruan Qiutang's shoulder, and placed his other hand on Si Yimian's head.

"Good boy."

Si Ningyou stood there, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes.

Seeing Ruan Qiutang crying like that, and seeing everyone in the room moved to tears.

My heart feels like it's been stuffed with a lemon, so sour it's bubbling.

He hadn't given a gift in eight years, but when he finally did, it was a bombshell!

A tattered photo album and a worn-out scarf—that's how this family ended up like this?

Her seven-figure imperial green jadeite was just outshone like that?!

Ruan Qiutang hugged Si Yimian and cried for a long time before she calmed down a little.

She released her grip, cupped her daughter's face in her hands, her eyes still red.

"Mianmian, why didn't you take these things out sooner?"

Si Yimian remained silent for a few seconds before speaking.

"Eight years ago, it was my mother's birthday, and I didn't know what to buy. My sister said she could help me choose."

She paused, glancing at Si Ningyou.

"She sent me a WeChat contact for selling bags, saying it was the style I liked."

"I spent all the pocket money I had saved up for a long time on it."

"Then on your birthday, everyone laughed at me, saying I tried to fool you with a fake."

All eyes turned to Si Ningyou.

Si Ningyou's expression seemed to have been paused.

Si Yimian didn't look at her and continued speaking.

"After that, I never dared to deliver it again."

"I'm afraid of buying the wrong thing, or I'm afraid I won't be able to show it off."

Ruan Qiutang turned to look at Si Ningyou, her expression changing.

"Ning You, was it you who recommended that WeChat account to Mianmian back then?"

Si Yimian quickly tugged at Ruan Qiutang's sleeve.

"Mom, don't ask anymore."

"My sister is so kind; she was even worried I'd buy the wrong gift today."

"What bad intentions could she possibly have?"

"If anyone's to blame, it's that the seller was unreliable."

She looked at Si Ningyou, her eyes crinkling into a smile.

"Right, sister?"