Spring Night Kiss.

After arranging her work, Song Qingjia returned to Suzhou.

She called Zhou Yunqing in advance, and Zhou Yunqing said on the phone, "There's no need to make a special trip," but the joy hidden in her voice was unmistakable.

Song Qingjia took a taxi directly from the high-speed rail station to the hospital and followed the signs to the inpatient department.

In the corridor, the familiar smell of disinfectant seemed to transport her back to the day her father passed away.

She shook her head and pushed open the ward door.

Zhou Yunqing leaned against the headboard, her face paler than the last time they met, but her spirits were still good. Seeing Song Qingjia, her eyes lit up, and she smiled and waved, "Qingjia's here."

The woman sitting on the chair by the bed also turned around.

She wore a dark gray dress and her hair was styled in a bun, looking dignified and elegant.

It turned out to be Cheng Yizhen.

She also came to Suzhou.

Song Qingjia's gaze met hers, but she quickly looked away and turned her attention back to Zhou Yunqing on the hospital bed.

She walked over, sat down on the edge of the bed, and took her hand: "Aunt Zhou, how are you feeling?"

Zhou Yunqing patted the back of her hand: "It's a minor surgery, nothing serious. You're so busy with work, yet you still made a special trip."

Her gaze swept between Song Qingjia and Cheng Yizhen before she said, "Your mother has been here with me for several days now. I told her it wasn't necessary, but she insisted on coming."

Cheng Yizhen sat on the chair next to her without saying a word, only looking down at her clasped fingers.

Song Qingjia said, "You've already had surgery, how can you say it's okay? You should have told me sooner so I could have come and keep you company."

Seeing that she didn't respond, Zhou Yunqing sighed inwardly.

The two chatted about their illnesses and recent situations for a while, and after about half an hour, Zhou Yunqing felt a little tired.

She took Song Qingjia's hand, glanced at Cheng Yizhen who had been silent, and softened her voice: "Qingjia, you and your mother have been together for so many years, can't you talk things out properly? There's no such thing as a mother and daughter holding a grudge overnight."

Song Qingjia didn't want to refute her, so she just responded in a low voice.

Zhou Yunqing continued, "Listen to me, sit down and talk to your mother. Once you've talked it out, everything will be fine."

Song Qingjia: "Mm."

Cheng Yizhen stood up: "Your Aunt Zhou is tired too, let's go back first."

Song Qingjia: "Aunt Zhou, you should get some rest. I'll come see you again tomorrow."

Zhou Yunqing waved her hand with relief: "Go on your way, be careful on the road. You two talk to each other nicely, don't hold a grudge."

Song Qingjia hummed in agreement.

The two walked out of the ward one after the other.

The lights in the corridor were brighter than those in the ward. Song Qingjia walked in front, and Cheng Yizhen followed behind, about three steps apart, their footsteps echoing on the floor tiles.

As we approached the elevator, Cheng Yizhen's voice came from behind: "Where are you staying tonight? Do you want to come back to the hotel with me?"

Song Qingjia didn't stop walking, but she slowed down a little: "No need. I'm going home."

The "home" she was referring to was the old house on Shizi Street in Suzhou, which her father left behind.

Cheng Yizhen paused for a moment: "No one has lived there for a long time."

Song Qingjia: "I know."

Cheng Yizhen didn't try to persuade her any further, and said, "Then I'll take you back."

The driver parked the car downstairs at the apartment building. The streetlights illuminated the somewhat old building, where the ivy on the walls was growing vigorously in the summer, covering most of the wall.

The lights in the hallway were dim, and the walls were mottled, all bearing the marks of time.

Song Qingjia said to the person behind her, "Be careful."

She now frequents places that are glittering and opulent; she probably hasn't been to such a dilapidated place in a long time.

Reaching the familiar door on the third floor, Song Qingjia took out the key and inserted it into the lock. As she turned it, she could feel that the lock cylinder was a bit stiff, which was proof that no one had been here for a long time.

The door opened, and a smell of old wood and cotton filled the air.

Song Qingjia walked over and lifted the white cloth on the sofa. Cheng Yizhen stepped forward to help, and the two rolled up the white cloth and put it aside.

"Please sit down."

Cheng Yizhen sat down on the sofa, looked around, and said with a hint of melancholy, "This house is almost the same as when your father was alive." She said, "Your father liked to put things back in their place, everything was where it belonged."

Song Qingjia was a little annoyed; she didn't want to reminisce.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" she asked curtly.

Cheng Yizhen paused for a moment, turned her head to look at her daughter, and without changing the subject, asked directly, "Why did you ask me that on the phone yesterday?"

Song Qingjia twitched the corner of her mouth and looked straight at her: "Because that day, I saw you and Nie Qingyuan coming out of the hotel room together."

Cheng Yizhen was stunned; she hadn't expected this.

Why did you go there?

"How would I have seen it if I hadn't gone? My mother was with another man while my father was dying." Song Qingjia's tone was somewhat mocking.

Cheng Yi wasn't stupid; she quickly realized, "You think I had an affair with your Uncle Nie?"

"Isn't that right?"

How could you think that?!

Cheng Yi was shocked. She had indeed neglected her daughter and family, and the two were not close. But she never expected that she would be seen this way in the other person's eyes.

Song Qingjia clenched her fists, the pain allowing her to maintain her indifferent expression.

"We were just discussing business. There was a UN overseas posting available, and he said he could help me get it, but on the condition that we meet in person. I never imagined your father would pass away so suddenly..."

Song Qingjia interrupted her: "If you knew, would you still go?"

Cheng Yizhen remained silent.

"You will go."

Cheng Yizhen opened her mouth, and after a long while, she said, "Yes, even if I knew your father would die that day, I would still go."

"That's a rare opportunity, I can't let it slip by."

Song Qingjia was momentarily at a loss as to whether she should be thankful that her mother hadn't cheated on her, or resentful that her mother had unhesitatingly chosen to abandon her father over her career.

"But I absolutely did not cheat on you, I did not betray your father. You shouldn't have distanced yourself from me for so many years because of such unfounded speculation."

Song Qingjia paused for a moment, then rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on.

"I misunderstood you about the affair, and I apologize."

Cheng Yizhen's expression turned cold: "Qingjia, is an apology what I need?"

Song Qingjia didn't know how to express it; her feelings were very complicated.

"You didn't cheat on me; you just took advantage of Uncle Nie's affection for you to seek your own benefit," she said, pursing her lips.

"So what? What's wrong with that?" Cheng Yizhen retorted. "Why can't I take advantage of his feelings? A shortcut to success is right in front of me, what reason do I have not to take it?"

Song Qingjia loosened her grip, her fingernails leaving red marks on her palm, which throbbed faintly.

"You're not wrong, but I just can't agree with you."

Cheng Yizhen choked. At this point, there was no need to continue the conversation.

She will never regret her choice. No matter how many times she has to do it again, she will still grab Nie Qingyuan without hesitation and keep climbing up the ladder.

She silently got up and walked towards the door.

Song Qingjia remained silent.

As she reached the door, Cheng Yizhen stopped and said softly, "Qingjia, I'm not the kind of person you imagine, but I'm not the kind of mother you hope for either."

She will always put herself first.