Su Ziceng was squeezed by a crowd of children until her head was throbbing, so she left halfway through and went back to the Yan Family's house. When she arrived, Mrs. Yan was not in the living room. Su Ziceng took a few steps and then heard a low sobbing sound coming from Wuxu's room.
Mrs. Yan sat on Wuxu's narrow bed filled with books, sorting through the clothes Wuxu had worn from childhood to adulthood; she carefully folded each piece and then packed them into a cardboard box. She folded them so meticulously that even a tiny crease on them had to be smoothed out, "Xiao Xu, mom is not stopping you."
This was a strong mother. Su Ziceng didn't push the door and enter; she knew, as a mother like Qiao Chu, Mrs. Yan too, wanted to give her beloved daughter the best. Over the past ten years, Wuxu had endured countless sufferings, and Mrs. Yan had always felt guilt; thus, today, even if she was extremely reluctant, she swallowed it all.
