"I couldn't remember it clearly; it was a bunch of nonsensical words. If I knew her name, at least I can go look for the girl myself, but tell me, what am I supposed to do with a nickname like this?"
Listening to Auntie Su's complaints, Song Menghwa could not help but laugh along. Song Qingchun placed the fruit and knife down quietly, stood up, and walked toward the bathroom.
When she almost the closed the door, she heard Auntie Su say, "Whenever that number calls, it'll play this song that is related to the person in the memory and how he wishes her well… It's sweet and all, but tell me, why hasn't he set a song for his own mother?"
Song Qingchun's body tensed. It was not until Auntie Su and Song Menghwa moved onto another topic that she slowly closed the door behind her. She was in there to wash her hands, but she stood before the mirror completely frozen.
