Green plums cannot become lovers.

How can this be explained? Can the boy standing before her be the son she abandoned eight years ago? Can the fact that while she was starting a new family and having new children, there was once a child waiting for her to come home in an empty house?

"I..." The woman's voice choked, tears welling up unexpectedly and sliding down her cheeks, "He is...he is Asuka..."

The man froze.

He had clearly heard the name before—from his wife's occasional sleep-talking, from her weeping alone at night looking at old photographs, from her past which she would never speak of. His expression shifted from confusion to shock, then to a complex mix of understanding and sympathy.

The amusement park lights came on one by one above them, and dusk had completely fallen. The crowds around them continued to flow, their laughter and chatter unabated, but in this small corner, time seemed to stand still.

An and Asuka finally found their voices again; they heard themselves speak in a strange yet calm tone:

"It's been a long time, Mother."

The word "mother" echoed coldly in the air, devoid of any emotion, as if stating a fact that had nothing to do with oneself.

The woman's tears flowed even more fiercely. She wanted to step forward, to say something, but her feet seemed nailed to the ground, and she could only stand there trembling. The little boy beside her seemed frightened by his mother's tears and began to sob softly, clinging tightly to his mother's legs.

The man knelt down to comfort the child, then stood up and looked at An and Asuka with a complicated expression: "You are... Miho's son?"

An and Asuka did not answer, but simply looked at their mother quietly.

Eight years have passed, and he has imagined this scene countless times—if he were to see her again one day, what would he say? Would he angrily question her about why she abandoned him? Would he coldly turn and leave? Or would he, like now, simply stand there calmly, feeling all his emotions frozen deep within his chest?

Kasumigaoka Utaha and Eriri understood completely.

As they looked at An and Asuka's straight backs and his profile, which was so calm it was almost frightening, a sharp pain welled up in their hearts.

They had already heard about the boy's situation, but they never expected to meet his mother here today.

"Asuka..." Eriri couldn't help but call out to him softly, her voice full of worry.

An and Asuka seemed to wake from some dream, slowly turning their heads and giving them a pale and forced smile: "Sorry, that's all for today, you can go back now."

“But…” Kasumigaoka Utaha wanted to say something, but was interrupted by An and Asuka.

“It’s alright,” An and Asuka’s voices remained calm. “This is my business. Thank you for spending time with me today.”

He turned to look at the woman and her new family, and said softly, "I'm fine."

He really didn't expect such a surprise today.

It's terrible. Why did they have to appear at the most triumphant and happiest time of my life?

"No way!"

"I won't leave you to face this alone!"

The girls' resolute voices rang out, piercing the setting sun.

Volume 1: The Seal of the Seal - Chapter 195 Are You Still Human?

Eriri took a step forward, her golden twin tails swaying slightly in the evening breeze, her azure eyes burning with a rare fury and determination. Kasumigaoka Utaha's wine-red eyes gazed at Anwa and Asuka, saying nothing, but her calm gaze itself was a declaration.

An and Asuka paused, looking at the two girls before them who should have been just "friends." Their expressions were so serious, so resolute, as if they were facing not only his past, but something they believed they had to share.

"Flying...birds..."

A trembling female voice came from the other side.

Anwa Miho was staring intently at him. Even though eight years had transformed the ten-year-old child into a tall and handsome young man, even though time had etched the marks of growth on his face, even though everything had changed—she still recognized him at a glance.

Those eyes. Those deep brown eyes, always clear and resolute, have never changed, no matter how many years have passed.

Just like she saw when she flipped through old photo albums alone every night, just like what floated into her mind every sleepless night. That was her bird, the child she carried for ten months, the child she once thought she would protect for a lifetime.

The air freezes.

An and Asuka silently looked at the woman in front of them, the bewildered man beside her, and the little boy who was clutching his mother's skirt and timidly looking at him.

What a perfect picture—a loving mother, a reliable husband, and adorable children. A typical template of a happy family, so perfect it looks like it was cut out of an advertising poster.

He stood there, beside two determined young girls, with the amusement park's dazzling lights about to illuminate the scene behind him. Two worlds, two lives, unexpectedly met in the afterglow of the setting sun.

In the end, it was the woman who broke the silence first.

"Asuka, it's been a long time."

She tried to force a smile, but it was a distorted expression that looked worse than tears. Tears welled in her eyes, shimmering in the setting sun.

An and Asuka nodded calmly, their voices devoid of any emotion: "Yes, it's been a long time, Mother."

The word "mother" came out of his mouth politely but distantly, as if he were addressing a long-lost distant relative. There was no resentment, no excitement, no intense emotion that one would expect from a long-awaited reunion; only a chilling indifference.

He even proactively asked, "How have you been since you left?"

His gaze swept over the man and child beside her, a very faint, almost imperceptible smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Hmm, they seem to be quite happy."

These words, like a meticulously crafted dagger, pierced Anwa Miho's heart with the gentlest touch.

Yes, she is very happy now. She has a loving husband, a lovely son, a stable life, and peaceful days without worrying about debt collectors coming to her door tomorrow. This is the life she abandoned everything to pursue eight years ago; this is the "happiness" she obtained at the cost of abandoning her own son.

But when the son she had abandoned stood before her and said in a calm tone, "You look very happy," that happiness instantly turned into the cruelest irony.

A flood of emotions surged within her—guilt, regret, pain, and a near-desperate longing. She wanted to say something, to explain something, to beg something, but her throat felt blocked, and she could only utter broken, breathy sounds.

The man beside her stepped forward, shielding his wife. He looked to be around forty years old, with a gentle face and a calm demeanor. He wore a well-fitting casual shirt, exuding an aura of stability and reliability.

“You must be Anwa Asuka, Miho’s child.” He spoke, his voice gentle and steady. “My surname is Nishimura, and I am Miho’s husband.”

An and Asuka's gaze swept past Nishimura and landed on the little boy behind him. The child was about five or six years old, looked more like his mother, and had a pair of big, round eyes that were now peeking at him with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

"Well, I guess so," An and Asuka replied softly, then added, "But not really now."

Not worth anything? Not Miho's child? Not part of this family? Or not anything worth remembering?

“Asuka…” Anwa Miho’s voice trembled uncontrollably, and tears finally welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She reached out as if to grab something, but her fingers clenched futilely in the air a few times before finally falling limply to her sides.

Mr. Nishimura took a deep breath and said in a deep voice, "Let's find a place to sit down and talk. There are some things... we need to clarify."

“We have nothing to talk about.” An and Asuka’s voices were still very soft, like a feather falling to the ground, yet they carried an undeniable resolve. “After all, we have no relation whatsoever except blood ties, do we?”

Blood ties—such a fragile bond. It can be diluted by eight years, replaced by a new family, or completely severed by a lie that "Mom will be back soon."

"Asuka!" Anwa Miho finally burst into tears, sobs blurring her vision. She almost pleaded, "Let's...let's talk, okay? Please...just this once..."

Her voice was broken and shattered, every word soaked with tears. The image of his once gentle and strong mother had completely collapsed at this moment, leaving only a weeping, vulnerable, and remorseful woman.

As An and Asuka looked at her tears, at her trembling shoulders in the sunset, at the pleading in those eyes so similar to their own, their hearts, which they thought were as hard as stone, softened uncontrollably.

“Alright.” He finally sighed, a sigh so soft it was almost inaudible. “Let’s find a place to talk.”

"Birds".

"Junior."

Kasumigaoka Utaha and Eriri spoke almost simultaneously, their voices filled with worry.

An and Asuka turned to them and gave them a reassuring smile: "It's alright. Eriri and Senpai can go back first. You've already gone to a lot of trouble for us today."

"What are you saying!" Eriri's face puffed up with anger. She took a step forward and stood next to him. "I told you I wouldn't let you face this alone! Do you think I'm the kind of person who would run away in the face of battle?"

Kasumigaoka Utaha's wine-red eyes shone with unwavering determination: "Yes, we'll be with you. No one should face this alone."

Their voices were soft, but unusually resolute. Perhaps the boy appeared calm on the surface, perhaps he could deal with everything with a polite and distant attitude, but they knew, or at least believed, that beneath that calm exterior, something was breaking, something was bleeding.

After all, he was facing a mother who had abandoned him, a woman who had disappeared when he needed her most, but who had now reappeared with a new and happy family.

An and Asuka looked at the two girls' determined expressions, remained silent for a few seconds, and then smiled softly: "Then... please excuse my poor performance."

The smile was faint, carrying a kind of helpless tenderness.

He turned back to Mr. Nishimura and said, "Then, Uncle, let's find a place."

The group left the amusement park in silence.

The sun had completely sunk below the horizon, the sky had turned from orange-red to deep purple, and the first star quietly lit up the eastern horizon. The amusement park lights gradually illuminated the fairytale castle behind them, making it look like a dream, but no one was in the mood to turn around and admire it.

An and Miho walked at the front, with Mr. Nishimura holding his son Satoshi's hand beside her. An and Asuka walked in the middle, with Kasumigaoka Utaha and Eriri on either side of him, like two silent shields.

Throughout the journey, Anwa Miho's gaze almost never left Anwa Asuka. She would occasionally steal glances to the side, or peek through the reflection in the glass window, as if trying to catch up on all the eight years of growth she had missed during this short walk.

He has truly grown up. He is no longer the thin, small child who always quietly followed behind her in her memory.

He had grown taller than her, his shoulders had broadened, and his face had lost its childishness, his features becoming clear and handsome. Only his deep brown eyes, which seemed to see through everything, remained exactly the same as she remembered.

And then there was that composure beyond his years. From the moment they reunited until now, he hadn't lost control, hadn't questioned anyone, hadn't shed a tear, and hadn't even shown the slightest resentment. He simply stood there calmly, spoke calmly, and calmly accepted this unexpected reunion.

This calm only made Anwa Miho feel more heartbroken.

A sixteen-year-old boy should be at the age when his emotions are most abundant and intense, but he has already learned to wrap himself in such a hard shell.

They eventually entered a chain family restaurant. Warm yellow lighting, wooden tables and chairs, cartoon wallpaper on the walls, and the aroma of fried chicken and curry filled the air. It was dinnertime, and the restaurant was packed with families with children, laughter echoing in every corner.

Mr. Nishimura found a corner seat by the window. Six people—or rather, two families forced together—sat around a rectangular table, the atmosphere almost frozen with awkwardness.

An and Asuka sat on one side with the two girls, while An and Miho's family of three sat opposite them. When the waiter came to take their order, he clearly sensed the unusual atmosphere, quickly noted down their drinks, and hurried away.

Silence spread across the dining table. Outside the window, the sky had completely darkened, and the streetlights on the street lit up one by one, with cars flowing like a river of light.

Finally, Anwa Miho couldn't hold back any longer and cautiously asked, "Asuka... are you... are you doing alright?"

The moment the question was asked, the already heavy atmosphere seemed to sink even deeper.

Kasumigaoka Utaha and Eriri frowned almost simultaneously. How could a woman who abandoned her child have the audacity to ask such a question? In these eight years, had she ever truly cared whether he was alive or dead, whether he was cold or warm?

However, An and Asuka's response was unexpectedly calm.

"It's great." He nodded, his tone as relaxed as if he were talking about the weather. "I have enough to eat and wear every day, and there are no difficulties. I've also met some very good friends, and everyone has taken good care of me."

When he said this, he even smiled slightly, a smile that was clean and frank, without the slightest hint of reluctance.

Anwa Miho's eyes lit up, as if a drowning person had grabbed onto a piece of driftwood: "Really? Well, that's good..."

There was a sense of relief in her voice. Perhaps in her imagination, children without parents would live a miserable life, wandering the streets and suffering bullying. But her bird said "it's good," said "I have friends to take care of me"—this eased the heavy guilt in her heart a little.

However, the two girls sitting next to An and Asuka heard something completely different.

They had heard about the boy's past from Marina, Shizuka, and Ai.

The hardships of living alone, the exhaustion of working to survive, and the countless nights spent in empty houses. They know that behind the words "having enough to eat and wear" lie countless nights spent without anyone caring; behind the claim of "no difficulties" lie countless struggles to face the heavy burdens of life alone.

And now he speaks of it in such a relaxed tone, as if those hardships were nothing to mention.

"That's great." Anwa Miho let out a soft breath, her fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of her water glass. "Now I feel... a little more at ease."

“Yes, you don’t need to worry about anything.” An and Asuka’s voice remained gentle. “I’m doing very well now, really.”

The more polite and calm his attitude, the more heartbreaking it was. It was like someone who was seriously injured but smiled and told you, "It doesn't hurt, it really doesn't hurt."

"I see..." Anwa Miho lowered her head, her fingers twisting together. She had so much to say, she wanted to ask him how he had spent these past years, where he lived, how his studies were going, and everything else about him.

But all the questions remained stuck in his throat, ultimately turning into a sigh.

Just then, Eriri suddenly slammed her hand on the table, and the loud "bang" silenced the entire restaurant for a moment.

"You woman!" She stood up, her azure eyes burning with fury. "Are you even Feibiao's mother?! You abandoned him eight years ago, and now you suddenly appear, satisfied with just a simple 'How are you doing?' Do you know what he's been through all these years? Do you know how difficult it is for a ten-year-old child to live alone?"

Her voice was urgent and rapid, as if she were pouring out all the anger and heartache that had been building up inside her. Her golden twin ponytails swayed violently with her movements, and her face, which always wore a proud expression, was now filled with anger and indignation for her friend.

Kasumigaoka Utaha, though not as agitated as Eriri, spoke slowly, her voice calm yet sharp: "Mrs. Nishimura, please allow me to ask a question. In these past eight years, have you ever tried to contact Asuka even once? Have you ever gone back to see him even once? Have you ever truly worried about his life or death even once?"

The two girls' questions were like two sharp knives, piercing straight into the truth that An and Miho least wanted to face.

Anwa Miho's face turned deathly pale instantly. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but couldn't utter a single word. Tears welled up again, large drops falling onto the table, spreading dark stains.

Mr. Nishimura reached out and gently placed his hand on his wife's shoulder, then looked at Eriri and Kasumigaoka Utaha: "You two, I understand how you feel. But some things may not be as simple as they seem—"

Before he could finish speaking, an unexpected event occurred.

The child, who had been sitting quietly beside his mother, secretly slipped off his chair during a break in the adults' argument. He was clearly bored with the dull conversation and wanted to go play in the children's play area of ​​the restaurant.

But he was running too fast and accidentally bumped into a waiter carrying a tray in the aisle.

"what!"

"careful!"

Amid exclamations, the beverage cups on the tray tipped over, spilling icy juice all over Xiao Zhi and the waiter's uniform.

"Wah—!" Ash was startled by the sudden situation and burst into tears.

"Satoshi!" Anwa and Miho immediately stood up, ran over in a panic, knelt down and hugged their son. "It's okay, it's okay, Mommy's here, don't cry, don't cry..."

She frantically pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the juice off her son, her voice so gentle it could melt ice: "Are you hurt? Where did you bump into something? Tell Mommy..."

The waiter apologized repeatedly and brought clean towels to help wipe her face. The restaurant manager came over upon hearing the commotion and asked if she needed any assistance.

In an instant, that corner became lively and chaotic.