It was a short distance, but Song Xingyao felt like she had walked for a long time.
Through the glass door frame, she saw the woman prop herself up from the ground. The moonlight made her porcelain-white face appear even paler, and a gentle breeze made her slender body sway precariously. She sat sideways on the terrace, her calm, numb eyes revealing despair and desolation.
Song Xingyao called out to her, but the woman seemed not to hear her. However, she did hear the woman's weak, hoarse voice, "Yaoyao, Mommy is coming to find you..."
With a bang, the door was pushed open, and Song Xingyao stood behind the woman, forcing herself to remain calm, but her palms were already soaked with cold sweat.
The woman turned around when she heard the voice, her helpless and sorrowful eyes drawn to her. Whether it was the early winter wind or Song Xingyao's gentle words, "I am Yaoyao, are you looking for me?", a sliver of reason was awakened in her empty eyes.
The tears welling up in the woman's eyes stung Song Xingyao. She looked at the woman's thin and fragile figure, which seemed like a withered leaf hanging alone in the air, as if it would be carried by the wind to the endless yellow sand and disappear at any moment.
Seeing that she had reacted, Song Xingyao slowly approached her and then spoke to calm her down, "I heard you calling my name from afar, I'm here."
Just as Wu Mu was about to place his hand in hers, he heard a commotion in the corridor. Guests poured out, with Fu Quan leading the way, watching his wife sitting on the unprotected railing with alarm.
He stood still, and Wu Mu's hand stopped just a palm's distance from Song Xingyao, but the commotion of the crowd made the woman's calm face show signs of anxiety.
Song Xingyao heard the noise behind her, but dared not look back. She stared intently at the woman in front of her, worried that the change in her emotions would cause her to struggle and fall.
She reached out and grasped the woman's hand, holding the thin, slender hand tightly in her palm.
Everyone ran out after hearing Fu Yao crying that Wu Mu was sitting on the balcony and about to jump. Fu Siming, who was standing next to Fu Quan, froze, cold sweat beading on his forehead from the dangerous situation they were in, and his heart was enveloped in a chilling fear.
He watched from afar as Song Xingyao stood on the edge of the fence in an attempt to grab Wu Mu; if she wasn't careful, the two of them would fall together.
Two men slowly approached the terrace. Fu Quan's hoarse, trembling voice echoed in the corridor. Everyone stared intently at the terrace, their thoughts drawn into the tense atmosphere.
"Mu'er..." The call was blocked by the heavy glass door frame in the corridor, and Wu Mu didn't even look up at him.
The two women faced off in the cold wind. In this critical moment, Wu Mu suddenly threw herself into Song Xingyao's arms and burst into tears.
Because of her twisted body, Song Xingyao struggled to support herself against the railing, which had lost its strength. Fu Quan and Fu Siming exchanged a glance, quickly broke open the door, and pulled Wu Mu down from the railing.
Her skirt was caught on the railing decoration with a piercing ripping sound, a sound that stabbed Fu Quan's heart.
Song Xingyao was embraced by the man behind her, her hands still tightly wrapped around Wu Mu's shoulders.
Song Xingyao had no idea she had such strength. When she came to her senses, she realized that her legs were weak and she trembled as she fell into Fu Siming's warm embrace.
The moment the dramatic scene ended was even more terrifying, as Fu Siming's damp hand gripped her wrist tightly.
Fu Quan wanted to check on his wife's condition, and his trembling hand rested on Wu Mu's shoulder, but his wife clung tightly to Song Xingyao's neck, crying like a helpless child, oblivious to everyone around her.
The mournful and piercing cries left the four of them stranded on the cold terrace until Wu Mu's voice gradually faded away.
Fu Quan tried to pick up his wife, but Wu Mu held onto Song Xingyao's hand and refused to let go.
Fu Siming helped Song Xingyao up and let the two women lead each other away from that dangerous place, returning to the warm lounge.
Mr. Wu was so frightened by his daughter's sudden loss of control that he staggered. Fortunately, someone was there to support him. He returned to the hall and dispersed the crowd. The banquet hall was filled with sounds of comforting each other and discussing the situation.
Fu Yao hid in a corner, clenching her fists.
She saw that Wu Mu almost fell. If she had pulled Song Xingyao along, she could have taken care of both women at once. It was so close!
Upstairs, two men stood by the window, their faces showing signs of composure, but they were still shaken.
Looking at his wife sitting on the sofa, Fu Quan felt extremely guilty. "Fortunately, Mu'er and Xingyao are both alright. I should have picked her up myself and taken her with me."
Fu Siming didn't speak. His throat was dry and bitter, and the panic and fear in his indifferent eyes hadn't faded. He didn't even dare to think about what would have happened if Song Xingyao had fallen from there.
Wu Mu sat on the bed, the despair in her eyes washed away after she had cried.
Song Xingyao's bruised palms, soaked with sweat from gripping them tightly for so long, finally began to feel pain belatedly.
Their hair was already disheveled by the evening wind, just like the scene from before. Wu Mu took out one hand and tucked Song Xingyao's messy hair behind her ear, calling her affectionately: Yao Yao.
Just now, Song Xingyao used a clever trick in the moment of crisis, calling out "Mom" to her, which made Wu Mu burst into tears, giving Fu Siming and Fu Quan the opportunity to save her.
Noticing her expression, Wu Mu released her injured hand, gently wiped the blood from her hand with the corner of his clothes, and even pursed his lips and blew on the wound.
Such an intimate gesture made Song Xingyao a little awkward, but she didn't pull her hand away. The soft caress on her palm gradually relaxed her.
Fu Quan looked somewhat surprised. Wu Mu hadn't paid attention to the people around her for a long time. She often spaced out at home, ignoring others, and sometimes didn't even respond to his words. Now, she was actually taking the initiative to care about Song Xingyao.
After calming down, the two men each walked towards their wives.
Fu Quan squatted down in front of Wu Mu, "Mu'er, you scared me to death. It's all my fault. I should have stayed by your side all the time."
Wu Mu was overjoyed and said to the man in front of her, "Honey, I found her! I found Yao Yao! I heard someone say that our daughter is on the terrace. I went over, and sure enough, she was there."
Hearing this, he sighed, didn't say anything, put his arm around the woman, gently patted her back, and said, "Yes, I understand!"
Song Xing left them alone and walked with Fu Siming to the window in the distance. She felt the man holding her hand with great force, and only loosened his grip when she hissed.
Once she was standing still, Song Xingyao leaned against him, listening to the man's pounding heartbeat. "I'm fine, Fu Siming, I'm fine."
Song Xingyao wasn't unafraid, but she wanted to hold the man in front of her tighter to ease his anxiety and unease.
She heard a man's low, husky voice above her, a slight tremor in his voice, "Why do you always make me so worried? I told you not to go far, but you wouldn't listen. If you really fell, I..."
He didn't say the rest.
She wrapped her arms around the man's waist tighter, wanting him to feel her real presence; their fears resonated in their embrace.
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