C18 Memories 1

Mr. Mu tidied up, gave me a deep kiss, and then headed to the office. Meanwhile, I went to meet Muh Linfeng.

I settled into a café across from Muh Linfeng's company, ordered a mocha, and sipped it while waiting for him. That's when I noticed a little girl in a pink princess dress. She was innocent and carefree, just like I was as a child.

Growing up, I was the princess of my family. From a young age, I understood that I was cherished by my parents. I never lacked anything; whatever I wanted, those who loved me would go out of their way to provide it. Spoiled by everyone's affection, I became more and more unruly, like a brat who always got her way.

Throughout my childhood, I relied on my status to get away with a lot of mischief. Those I bullied were often appeased with money. My belief was that money could solve anything, and with my parents always cleaning up my messes, I grew even more reckless. People tend to push boundaries when everything goes their way.

Though I found a sense of pride and amusement in teasing my peers, deep down, I was always afraid of being alone.

Because I know that the people surrounding her now are only drawn to her because of what she has, I realize that if she ever loses these things, they would likely leave her. Every time I return home, I see that in this huge house, it's just her, her mom, and a few housekeepers. Loneliness creeps in, and I feel a sense of isolation. Her dad is always busy with work, leaving early and coming back late, constantly tied up with countless social engagements, so she rarely gets to see him.

As her dad's business grows, she, like many wealthy young women, wishes to hold onto what she has but also longs for her parents to be around more. Those who struggle financially often dream of wealth, but those who are truly rich can feel isolated, yearning for genuine affection from those around them.

That's human nature—people can be greedy, and as their circumstances change, so do their desires. What they pursue evolves over time. Her dad cares for her the most, yet ironically, he's the family member she sees the least.

I remember when I was little, my dad would always lift me high in the air, and I'd laugh so much. Those were truly the days that are gone forever. Dad always said he didn't have much time to spend at home with me and Mom, and told me to listen to her. But why didn't he have time? Money might have brought me many things I wanted, but it also took away my chance to enjoy a father's love. I would have preferred to be like some families, coming home to the feeling of parents being around.

"Why is he never there for me? I just want him to be with me," I thought, looking at the empty room. Dad had promised yesterday to have lunch with me, but he never keeps his word. It's almost always like this. Just like when I was little, he promised to take me to the amusement park, but in the end, he broke that promise too. I stood there waiting until dark, watching other kids happily holding their parents' hands as they went home. And there I was, all alone from start to finish.

"Just because something came up, does that mean he can just leave me behind? Or is his work and money more important than I am?" I wondered. "Liars, you're all liars. You say I'm your most precious, but you always find excuses to brush me off. What do I really mean to you?"

Over the years, I had accumulated a lot of disappointment and resentment, and I finally let it all out at once. While I was venting at home, the housekeeper overheard everything. She had been instructed by my husband to report anything concerning me directly to him. So, she called him and relayed everything I had said, word for word.

Even though the housekeeper was just being factual and didn't add anything extra, after hearing it, he got angry over the phone. He said I was being unreasonable and asked the housekeeper to take good care of me.

I walked out of the house alone, wanting to take a nice stroll and release all the pent-up frustration that had been weighing on my heart.