Mother's whereabouts

And so, ever since I became obsessed with mother-son fantasy, my passion has never waned. By day, I'd enjoy the scenery; by night, I'd retreat into my fantasy world for further bliss. This kind of life, barring any unforeseen changes, would likely have continued for a long time. However, that change did come, and it altered the course of my life. That noon, I drove to a rather remote historical site. As I returned to the parking lot to leave, I saw a farmer's wife with a simple fruit stall outside the bamboo fence, energetically hawking her wares. Unfortunately, the few tourists present paid her little attention. Beside her sat a boy and a girl, about six or seven years old. The two children, dressed in worn-out clothes, stared longingly at the tempting fruit on the stall. However, the two children were quite sensible; they didn't reach for the fruit but sat quietly, not disturbing the woman's business. When no one was walking past the stall, the younger little girl turned to the woman and whispered, "Mommy, I'm hungry!" The little boy next to her also looked at the woman. The woman glanced around, and seeing that no one would come anytime soon, she took out an old aluminum food box from behind her, opened the lid, took out two steamed buns, and handed one to each of the children. The two children took the buns and began to eat them with relish. The woman watched the two children eat, a satisfied smile on her face, occasionally reminding them to eat slowly so they wouldn't choke. The woman then reached into the food box, took out another bun, took a bite, but then looked at the two children and put the bun back in the box. After the two children finished one bun, the woman continued to give them buns, and so on, until the two children had each eaten three or four buns and indicated that they were full. Only then did the woman stop giving them buns. After the two children were full, they went to pick up small stones nearby and started playing. After the children left, the woman took out the three remaining steamed buns from the box and began eating the congee and pickled vegetables at the bottom of the container. After finishing the congee, she looked at the buns, then put them back, seemingly wanting to save them for the children. Watching this seemingly ordinary scene, I felt a pang of sadness. I felt sad for the two children's contentment at having buns, sad for the woman's act of saving the buns for her children, and even sad for myself for never having met my own parents. At that moment, the longing and yearning for my parents that had been buried deep within me since childhood overwhelmed me like a burst dam. Afterwards, I walked out of the parking lot, and with the woman's slightly surprised expression, I bought all the fruit from her stall. Then, I ended my year-long road trip and returned to G city. After returning to G City, I went home briefly, then drove to S City to visit the orphanage where I had been taken, inquiring about my parents. The orphanage was well-managed; even after so many years, they still kept my belongings from when I was found. Those belongings were just a yellowed piece of paper with only one sentence written in delicate handwriting: "Child, your father cruelly abandoned us, and your mother has reached a dead end. Your mother shouldn't have given birth to you, leaving you to suffer alone in this world. Your mother is sorry. I hope you can meet a good family. If fate allows, I will make it up to you in my next life. —Qian." On that short line, several characters had ink smudges spreading outwards in circles, as if wet from water droplets, perhaps from tears. Looking at that short line, my eyes blurred, and my throat felt like it was blocked. "Mom, you really had your reasons," I murmured to myself with a sense of relief, while simultaneously feeling immense disappointment, or rather, despair, towards my father, whom I had never met. From those few words, I gleaned a great deal of information. What desperate situation had my mother faced when she abandoned me? She seemed to have suicidal thoughts; perhaps she was no longer in this world. Moreover, from the text, my father was the complete opposite of the father I had always dreamed of. His ruthless image instantly flashed into my mind, shattering all my illusions. I stood there, stunned, holding the piece of paper, tears streaming down my face, my mind blank. A moment later, reminded by a staff member, I came to my senses. Then, I composed myself and carefully inquired about the details of how I was brought there, including the time, the identity of the person who brought me, their physical characteristics, and what they said. Unfortunately, because so much time had passed, and so many orphans came and went, although most of the original staff members were still working there, they couldn't remember the events of that time very clearly. Finally, I had to go through the original records to find out the name of the person who brought me there and the time they brought me there. In the remarks section of that record, I found a simple note detailing when and where I was first found. After thanking the orphanage staff and donating some money, I drove around S City for a while. The more I thought about it, the more determined I became. I told myself that my mother might not have committed suicide; as long as there was no definite news of her, there was still a chance. I had to find out the truth; I couldn't give up. With this thought in mind, I considered it and then used directory assistance to find several emerging detective agencies. I told them about the information I had and asked them to help me find my mother based on the clues. Of course, I didn't tell them I was looking for my mother; I just said I was helping a friend. Anyway, even with several times the normal fee, they all readily agreed to do their best to help. As for my father's whereabouts, I didn't want to look for him. I felt that someone who abandoned his wife and children didn't deserve to be my father. After that, I settled down in S City, waiting for news. A month later, just as I was starting to feel restless and anxious, a detective agency brought good news. They called to say they had found my mother's identity and whereabouts, and asked me to come to their agency to fulfill the remaining payment obligations. Hearing this, I went to the detective agency with immense excitement and trepidation. Once there, the staff explained their search and identification process to me, and presented me with evidence for confirmation. It turned out that they hadn't found the kind person who took me to the orphanage, but by searching through newspapers from that time, they found a news story about a woman who attempted suicide by drowning but was rescued. By verifying the description in the newspaper, they gradually located the person involved, and without disturbing them, secretly checked the handwriting, ultimately making a preliminary confirmation of my mother's identity. They did more than that. After initially confirming her identity, they conducted further investigations, confirming that the woman had indeed given birth to a baby boy beforehand, and that the baby had disappeared afterward. Of course, the efforts and methods they employed were certainly more than what I've mentioned, but that was enough for me. Faced with such meticulous investigation and evidence, I was incredibly excited and affirmed their conclusions. Ten minutes later, I left the detective agency. I paid 50,000 yuan and took an envelope containing documents. Actually, according to the original contract, I didn't need to pay them that much, but I was truly grateful to them, and besides, I didn't care about the money. After leaving the detective agency, I made a call to several other detective agencies that hadn't made any progress in their investigations, canceling their search services and instructing them to treat my deposits as breach of contract. Then I went straight back to my hotel. After returning to my hotel room, I closed the door, clenched my fists, and shouted a few times, releasing all the excitement and pent-up emotions I had been holding back, before finally opening the envelope containing the documents again. Inside the envelope were only a sheet of paper with printed information and three photos. The information sheet listed my mother's name, age, current work address, home address, and current temporary address, even including her marital and family details—it was incredibly detailed, making me marvel once again at the ingenuity of those people. The three photos were clearly taken secretly. One was taken at the entrance of a hotel, and the other two were taken in the hotel lobby. The person in both photos was the same middle-aged woman: wearing a hotel supervisor's uniform skirt, with a professional hairstyle, a full and well-proportioned figure, slightly tall, and with a dignified and beautiful appearance. Calling her middle-aged isn't quite accurate; she looked to be around thirty-eight or thirty-nine years old. That woman was my biological mother, He Meiqian.

URL 1:http://localhost:909/htmlBlog/738.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=738&aspx=1

Previous Page : The Three Musketeers

Next Page : My Boyfriend's NTR Game (Completed)

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Mother's whereabouts

comment Open a new window to view comments