Warm Wife into Arms

Chapter 8: Yan Huan Back Then

Chapter 8: Yan Huan Back Then

The door outside opened, and a short-haired woman walked in. Although she had cut her hair so short that each strand stood up, although her movements were clumsy, and although she was flat-chested, it was not hard to tell that she was indeed a woman.

"Sigh, I'm so tired," she sat down on the small old sofa, kicked off her shoes without a care for whether her feet smelled, as she herself couldn't smell it anyway.

Yan Huan came out of the kitchen, just having made herself a bowl of noodles. But upon seeing the person outside, she blinked, paused, and hid the mist in her eyes.

"Yiyi..." Her red lips moved slightly, but the short-haired woman suddenly stood up and snatched the bowl from Yan Huan's hands.

"Huanhuan, you're so thoughtful, knowing I was hungry and even prepared instant noodles for me."

"Huh?" She moved the bowl closer to her face, unexpectedly widening her eyes, "Huanhuan, can you cook noodles? Are they even edible?" She nibbled on her fingernails. Although Yan Huan had lived with her mother, she wasn't very good at housework. During the years her mother was away, although she learned to take care of herself, the food she cooked was barely edible, not to mention tasty.

"Forget it, it's better than nothing," she said, hugging the bowl and devouring the noodles. But after just one bite, her eyes lit up, "Tsk, this is actually pretty good."

"Huanhuan, when did you learn to cook such delicious noodles?"

"As long as you like it, that's good," Yan Huan turned around, went back into the kitchen, lit the fire, boiled water, and started cooking noodles for herself, her movements mechanical. She lifted the lid of the pot, and the steam rushed out, blurring her eyes. She quickly wiped her eyes and added the noodles to the pot.

Sometimes she wondered why she couldn't have been reborn a few years earlier, when her mother was still alive. She had her mother's love and care. Although she was from a single-parent family, she had a mother who loved her. Her mother raised her so well that she never learned to cook until she grew up. Despite their financial struggles, her mother never let her suffer or go without food or clothes. Thus, she never lacked anything compared to other children.

She scooped the noodles into the bowl and added a poached egg. Her eyes continued to fill with tears, like a thin layer of mist, not quite tears, because she couldn't shed them.

But now, thinking about it, even if she had been reborn two years earlier, what would have changed? Her mother would still have been sick, with an incurable disease. The doctor said her mother's illness was due to years of accumulation, starting from the time she gave birth to Yan Huan. It was a miracle that she had held on for so long. Yan Huan knew it was a mother's persistence, a mother's determination. She couldn't bear to leave her daughter an orphan, nor could she bear for her daughter to be uncared for. So, after her daughter reached adulthood, she left reluctantly.

At that time, Yan Huan was only seventeen and still in school. Because of her good looks, she was admitted to an art academy, which was the greatest pride of Yan Huan's mother's life. She had a beautiful daughter, and no matter how hard it was, she would let her daughter continue her studies. Yan Huan was sensible; she worked part-time to support herself. When her mother's illness could no longer be delayed, she realized that her mother had been hiding her illness all along, unwilling to speak of it. Then, gritting her teeth, she took on every job she could, working as a body double, doing the most dangerous tasks, rushing from one job to another, just to earn more money to pay for her mother's medical bills.