As she walked across the square, many people tried to approach her for business. Perhaps the curious expression on her face made her appear more like a visiting tourist than a local. Mo Sheng gave a bitter smile to herself.

Fortunately, the bus stop and route hadn’t changed over the years, making it easy for her to find her way.

Someone once said that to truly understand a city, all you need to do is ride the public buses a few times. They’ll show you the city’s lively corners, the real heart of it. Mo Sheng sat quietly, watching pedestrians, cars, storefronts, and buildings through the window. The light rain blurred the view outside—this little Jiangnan city looked hazy, just like her own emotions.

“We’ve arrived at Qinghe New Village. Passengers for this stop, please get ready to disembark.”

As she stepped off the bus, a familiar row of old houses came into view.

Qinghe New Village had stood for over a decade. Mo Sheng had spent her childhood here, growing up in those very buildings. She never imagined that one day she’d return, only to find her heart heavy with sorrow.

She had come back this time in search of her mother. It had been more than seven years since they last spoke, and she wasn’t even sure if her mother still lived there.The rain had intensified.

Mo Sheng ran into the apartment building, drenched, and knocked on the familiar door. No one answered.

Had she gone out? Or moved away?

She waited at the door for over an hour, soaked to the bone, her clothes clinging to her skin, her toes numb from the cold.

Suddenly, a memory surfaced from her childhood. Once, she had come home from school in the rain and found no one home. She waited for over two hours until her father finally returned, briefcase in hand.

She could still clearly remember how distressed he was—wrapping her in his arms, repeating over and over, “Daddy’s sorry, Daddy’s sorry. Xiao Sheng, you can spank Daddy.”

Her father, the mayor, had always turned into a mischievous playmate around his daughter—taking her on little adventures, showing no trace of his official dignity. But he was always busy, and the time they had together was limited. Other kids had admired her for having such an important father, but little Mo Sheng had once written in a school essay: “My wish is for Daddy to come home from work on time every day, and for no more uncles to come over to talk with him.”

Still, whenever he could, her father would spoil her endlessly. He was nothing like her mother. Her memories of her mother were cold and distant, rarely showing warmth or affection.

“Xiao Sheng!”

The familiar voice startled Mo Sheng from her thoughts. “Auntie Huang?”

Standing in front of her was Aunt Huang, a former neighbor. Her husband had been a colleague of Mo Sheng’s father and remained close to their family back then.

“Xiao Sheng, when did you come back? Come in, come in! You’re soaking wet.”

Aunt Huang warmly ushered her inside.After drying off with a towel, Mo Sheng finally felt a bit better. She asked nervously, “Auntie Huang, is my mother still living here?”

“Of course she is. Where else would she go? You’ve been away for years without a word—your poor mother’s been here all alone.”

It wasn’t that she had intentionally disappeared. Mo Sheng felt a wave of sadness. Seven years ago, when she had learned of her father’s death while abroad, she had called home right away. But her mother had answered coldly, saying, “Don’t call me again, and don’t come back. Your father destroyed half my life. Now, I can finally live peacefully. I don’t want to see anything or anyone related to him again.”

She had hung up. When Mo Sheng tried calling again, the number had been disconnected.

Later, through Uncle Li—her father’s old classmate in the U.S.—Mo Sheng discovered some painful secrets she still couldn’t fully believe…