As Jian Yuncheng left the Jian mansion, an argument erupted between Mo Shiyun and Aunt Mo in the small villa they called home.
"Mom, please don't do something like this again. I promised you I'd prepare the gift," Mo Shiyun said, her brows furrowed and her tone exasperated.
"What are you talking about?" Aunt Mo was confused by her daughter's words.
"The gift for the Young Master today—you shouldn't have handled it this way," Mo Shiyun clarified, her frustration mounting.
"Wasn't today's gift something you prepared?" Aunt Mo countered, her expression one of shock.
Realizing that her mother genuinely didn't know what she was referring to, Mo Shiyun was momentarily bewildered. "So you didn't do it, Mom? Then…," she trailed off, trying to piece together the situation.
"I thought it was you! In the Jian family, who besides your mother would think to do such a thing? So, I assumed… if you didn't do it, then who did?" Aunt Mo was equally baffled.
Both mother and daughter froze, the realization dawning upon them that they each thought the other was responsible for the gift, only to find out neither had taken the initiative.
"What do we do now? Will we get caught?" Aunt Mo's face paled with concern.
Mo Shiyun's brow was knitted in worry. Seeing her daughter's troubled expression, Aunt Mo began to blame herself. "It's my fault! I shouldn't have suggested you give a gift to the Young Master. I just added extra pressure on you, and now we've gotten into trouble…"
Mo Shiyun couldn't bear to see her mother feeling guilty. "It's alright, Mom. Don't blame yourself. You only wanted what was best for me," she reassured her.
But Aunt Mo's fear began to bubble to the surface. "What if the original owner of that bag shows up? If they do, we'll be caught in a lie! What if the Young Master finds out and decides to kick us out? I can't lose this job. If I lose it, I don't know how I'll support you through college…"
"Mom, it's going to be fine," Mo Shiyun said, trying to comfort her. "I'll finish knitting the sweater, take a picture for proof, and then I'll put it in the same bag and toss it into the bushes in the garden. I can explain everything."
Although this was not an ideal solution, the situation had already spiraled out of their control, and all Mo Shiyun could do was find a way to mitigate the damage. She couldn't let her mother lose her job; it was far too important to them.
Hearing her daughter's words, Aunt Mo's mood improved slightly.
With a guilty tone, she turned to Mo Shiyun and said, "It's my fault, really. I'm useless and have dragged you down with me. You shouldn't have to worry about these things. If only I could do a little better, I wouldn't be putting you in this position."
Aunt Mo had always felt indebted to her daughter, believing her own shortcomings had caused Mo Shiyun to suffer.
Mo Shiyun gazed at her mother, her heart aching with empathy. "Mom, don't say that. You've worked so hard. Just look at your hands…" As she spoke, she took hold of Aunt Mo's rough, calloused hands, feeling a surge of tenderness.
In terms of age, Aunt Mo was actually several years younger than the wealthy matron, Wen Nuan. Yet, when standing side by side, Wen Nuan appeared a full decade younger.
Wen Nuan came from a privileged background and had married well, leading a life free of worries and cares. In contrast, Aunt Mo had a humble upbringing, had little formal education, and married a man who turned out to be a scoundrel, leaving her and her daughter to fend for themselves.
Mo Shiyun understood that her mother's painful past had driven her to push for a better education for her daughter, to help her meet more outstanding people, and to avoid repeating the mistakes of her own life.