C1 Be Good and Come Home with Me!

At the summit of Luan Mountain, clouds and mist swirled mysteriously.

Nestled beneath the lush greenery of the mountain lay an ancient temple, its colors faded and slightly forlorn from years of neglect.

At the temple entrance stood a young girl, around eighteen or nineteen, dressed in light-colored overalls, her long black hair cascading smoothly over her shoulders.

Her complexion was fair, translucent as jade, her almond-shaped eyes tinged with a haze of confusion as she gazed quietly at them.

Bathed in sunlight, her delicate, well-behaved face remained serene, betraying no hint of emotion.

"Amitabha, benefactor, this is your daughter, Su Ningning."

"My poor child," Liu Zhilan, clad in the garb of a noblewoman, leaned on her husband, Su Jiancheng, her body trembling, eyes red from weeping. "Ningning, Mommy has failed you."

Liu Zhilan was nearly overwhelmed at the sight of her daughter, who had been missing for sixteen years, now standing before her once again.

Su Jiancheng's eyes were also brimming with tears as he managed to utter, "Ningning."

"Ningning, these are your parents. They've come to this mountain to take you home," the abbot said, giving her a gentle nudge and a compassionate glance. "Go on, call them Mom and Dad."

He sighed inwardly; the girl was perfect in every way except for her excessive calmness. For over a decade, she had seemed cut off from the world.

Perhaps...

Once she descended the mountain and felt the love of her birth parents, she might warm up a bit.

Su Ningning's gaze slowly met that of Su Jiancheng and his wife, their eyes brimming with concern and unease, which only added to her bewilderment.

After a brief pause,

Su Ningning finally spoke softly, "Hello."

Her aloof demeanor brought Liu Zhilan to tears. "Ningning, my daughter, my daughter!" she cried, unable to contain her emotions as she embraced Su Ningning tightly.

The warmth of the woman's embrace caused Su Ningning to stiffen slightly.

She thought about pulling away...

Yet she also longed for the comfort it provided, reluctant to let go, her large eyes reflecting a touch of hesitation.

"Ningning, be a good girl," Su Jiancheng said with a quivering voice, tears welling up in his eyes. "Let's go home."

Su Ningning turned to face the abbot, her expression heavy with sorrow.

The abbot locked eyes with her, his own eyes tinged with red. Swallowing his feelings of reluctance, he handed her a package. "Be good, go on back now, and come visit whenever you can."

His trembling fingers were concealed beneath his robe.

After sixteen years of raising a child, it was finally time for her to return home.

"Let's go," Liu Zhilan said gently, taking the bag from her arms.

The bag was light and deflated, clearly containing very little.

Liu Zhilan felt a surge of compassion and resolved to make it up to her—tenfold, a hundredfold.

Together, the three of them climbed into the car.

Su Ningning took the seat by the window, her gaze fixed on the dilapidated temple. She watched the familiar landscape recede into the distance until it vanished from sight. Only then did she look away.

She nonchalantly grabbed the bag her mother had placed aside and dumped its contents onto the adjacent seat.

Inside, there were only a few items: an ancient tablet, an old black cell phone, something wrapped in black cloth, several worn handwritten books, and a DNA test report.

She casually picked up the black phone and turned it on.

Su's mother watched her intently, her heart growing heavier with each passing moment. Without a word, she averted her eyes and silently let tears fall.

On the winding mountain road, a black BMW sped past, heading toward the temple.

Minutes later, the BMW came to a halt at the temple's entrance. The driver turned to the man in the backseat with caution in his voice, "Third Master, we've arrived. Shall we go in now?"

The man in the backseat sat upright, his fingers deftly manipulating the tablet.

His piercing gaze scrutinized the data on the screen, causing his thick brows to furrow. His chiseled features took on an even colder and more aristocratic air.

That license plate...

He parted his lips slightly, "Turn around, follow them."