"Mom, haven't you eaten yet?"
After Zhu Qingyue returned home and slipped into her slippers, the first thing she did was call out to her mother.
"Hmm."
Then, her mother gently responded to her.
The indoor lights were bright, painting the glass windows, blackened by night, with the clear reflection of the girl's figure.
The class leader looked at her mother quietly sitting in the living room, the corners of her lips slightly upturned.
Coming home from school, greeting your mother, and getting a welcome—it was a common scene for a child from an ordinary family, but to the girl from the past, it was an unattainable luxury...
No, even calling it a "luxury" might be an exaggeration, because back then, Zhu Qingyue didn't even have the luxury of contemplating such matters, as caring for her bedridden and seriously ill mother was enough to exhaust her.
