Regardless of her original intention.

Whether she was conscious or not, everything she did and said to him over the years was indeed true.

This cannot be denied.

It cannot be changed.

There have indeed been too many regrets over the years.

Things I used to forget in a minute, things I could easily put aside, I now remember even the smallest details of.

Jiang Yue's hand lingered on his face, slowly stroking his eyebrows and eyes. He actually looked somewhat like her.

It looks very good and is very pretty.

He's even better looking than he was when he was a child.

Jiang Yue suddenly felt that it was not easy for him to grow up so well, and that she had let him down over the years.

As she slowly withdrew her hand, he grabbed her wrist, and scalding tears splattered onto the back of her hand, making the skin feel as if it had been burned by hot oil.

The skin was broken, it bled, and a deep hole was burned in it.

Blood was everywhere, and the rotten flesh was still attached to the blood, making it difficult to heal.

She didn't know what else to say.

Nothing can fill the void left by past regrets.

Zhou Zhengchu gripped his mother's wrist, his eyes red and tears streaming down his face. Normally a man with excellent self-control, his tears flowed like a burst dam.

His throat was still terribly hoarse, each sound like a painful cry of blood. He choked out, "You're still so young, you won't... you'll be alright. I... I planted a lot of roses that you like in the yard. When the roses bloom next spring, they'll be so beautiful, and you'll love them."

He planted roses all over the yard.

Many, many.

It's almost like a rose garden.

The roses will bloom in large swathes in time.

She looked at him quietly, her gaze slowly sweeping across his face. Her eyes stung, and tears welled up on her face without her realizing it.

She raised her hand to wipe her face, a smile still playing on her lips. She said, "Everyone dies eventually, and I will leave you eventually."

"It's alright."

After saying those two sentences, she looked out the window at the roses he had planted in the yard.

It hasn't bloomed yet.

It will probably take a very, very long time.

She knew she might not live to see that day.

She smiled at her son again, and when she was lucid, she had to say something: "I don't hate you."

She paused, then seemed to feel it wasn't enough, and made her point more clearly: "Not only do I not dislike it at all."

Her eyes were clear, her face serious, and she said softly, word by word, "I like you."

The child I carried for ten months and gave birth to.

How could I hate it?

She's already a little tired after saying so much today.

She looked at him, and her vision gradually blurred.

It might be tears, or it might be that I was too sleepy to keep my eyes open.

She was tired again.

This body is like a deflated balloon, constantly leaking air out, gradually shrinking from fullness to shriveling.

She thought it would be good for her to slowly die from a coma.

It's not that painful.

Actually, when you think about it carefully, it seems like she hasn't suffered much in her life.

All right.

All right.

There's still a little bit of regret.

Why did she live such a muddled life, as if she were living in a dream she had woven herself?

She leaned back in her chair, her eyelids slowly closing. She said, "I'm a little sleepy. I'll take a nap."

After saying that.

She then fell silent.

Zhou Zhengchu looked at the person sleeping comfortably in the chair. A crystal-clear tear, hanging from the dark eyelashes, suddenly fell and silently flowed across the entire face.

He reached out and gently touched her face.

She looks no different than before; her skin is still great, and her cheeks still look plump and radiant.

She looked great when she woke up.

It's fair with a rosy tint, very pretty.

It was impossible to tell that this was a body that had begun to wither.

Zhou Zhengchu stayed by his mother's side for a long time, until an hour later, she finally woke up, like a sleeping princess in a fairy tale.

She opened her eyes, and it was clear from just one look that she had forgotten what had just happened.

Zhou Zhengchu used to hope that his mother could stay lucid for a longer time, much longer.

Today, he finally understands what it means.

He didn't want to see his mother lucid again, he never wanted to see her like that again.

If the price is losing her.

Then never leave.

"Why are your eyes so red? Have you been crying?"

His mother's somewhat puzzled voice brought him back to his senses. He met her bewildered eyes and could barely manage a forced smile.

"Yeah. I'm a little sad." Zhou Zhengchu paused for a few seconds after speaking, then forced a smile. "Very sad."

She responded with an "oh," seemingly somewhat at a loss.

She fell silent, wanting to ask but too embarrassed to speak. After a while, perhaps unable to hold it in any longer, she opened her mouth again: "Did someone bully you?"

She muttered to herself, "It wasn't me."

Looking at her as if she had forgotten everything, Zhou Zhengchu felt a bitter taste in his throat. He hummed in agreement, "No, it wasn't you."

She said, "Don't be sad, being sad won't help. If someone bullies you, bully them back."

Zhou Zhengchu's gaze towards his mother was deep, yet somewhat empty. He murmured, "Okay."

She seemed to have lost interest in the topic again.

She stood close to the French windows, looking at the newly planted roses in the yard, though she didn't actually recognize them as roses.

All I know is that it's a flower.

She turned to him happily and asked, "When will these flowers bloom?"

Zhou Zhengchu swallowed the bitterness in his throat and whispered to her, "Next spring, May or June."

She let out a slightly disappointed "ah," as if she couldn't wait any longer.

He muttered a complaint under his breath, saying how late it was.

However, perhaps thinking about seeing the flowers bloom next spring, he quickly became happy.

Her questions were a bit childish, like those of a little kid: "Will they bloom in huge fields next spring? Will they all be red? Could they be multicolored? Are they pretty? Have you ever seen them? What kind of flowers are they?"

She asked a lot of questions in one go.

I want to know everything.

When Zhou Zhengchu saw her smile, his heavy mood seemed to ease a little. He said, "It's a rose."

"Red roses, a vast rose garden. Mother, it will be so beautiful when they bloom."

Her eyes sparkled, shining brightly: "Ah! I love roses."

She thought, "When the next spring comes..."

She probably wouldn't hate her son at all.