The next day.
Flora was woken up by the light streaming in through the window.
It was a hazy, slightly grayish light that leaked through the gap in the not-quite-closed curtains and fell onto the blanket.
She opened her eyes, and her first reaction was to look to the side.
Ilya’s side was empty. The blanket was folded neatly, the pillow back in place, and the sheets had not a single wrinkle.
Flora paused for a moment, then sat up and scanned the room.
Ilya was sitting on the chair by the window.
She had already changed clothes, her hair neatly combed, and was holding the book she hadn’t finished reading, looking down at it. The morning light from the window behind her traced a faint bright edge around her silhouette.
Hearing the sound, Ilya looked up and glanced over.
“Awake?”
Her voice was the same as always. Calm, natural, as if nothing had happened last night.
Flora sat on the bed, her hair a mess, still in that dazed state of just waking up. She looked at Ilya, opened her mouth to say something, but the words got stuck.
By then, Ilya had already stood up, walked to the table, poured a glass of water, and placed it on the nightstand on Flora’s side.
“Drink some water to clear your head.”
After saying that, she turned and walked back to the window, picking up the book again.
Flora looked down at the glass of water. The cup was a simple earthenware one, and the water inside was still steaming slightly, with thin white mist rising.
She reached out and picked up the cup, holding it in her hands. The temperature was just right, neither hot nor cold.
Ilya didn’t look at her, continuing to read. She took a sip, then another.
The room was very quiet. Occasionally, voices from the street drifted in through the window, distant and indistinguishable.
Flora held the cup, looking at Ilya’s profile. She couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Her gaze fell on her for a moment, then shifted away, but she couldn’t help looking back.
Ilya’s expression was the same as always: calm, indifferent.
But Flora felt something was off.
It wasn’t because Ilya was acting unusual. On the contrary, it was because she was too normal. So normal that it was like nothing had happened last night, like Flora had never called out that “Mom,” like her eyes had never reddened.
Too normal.
So normal that Flora didn’t know how to bring it up.
She lowered her head and took another sip of water.
“Mother.” She spoke, her voice a little softer than usual.
“Mm.” Ilya responded without looking up.
Flora paused, then said, “What time is it now?”
“Almost 7:30.”
Flora paused, then put down the cup and threw off the covers.
“The flower shop opens at eight.” Flora said, then stood up and walked to the mirror. “Let’s go eat now, and we’ll be just in time to go over after.”
Ilya closed the book and stood up.
“Okay.”
The two of them tidied up separately. Flora combed her hair in front of the mirror and checked her disguise to make sure it was fine.
She looked at Ilya and realized Ilya was already standing by the door waiting for her.
Flora walked over and pushed open the door.
The hallway was still just as quiet. Flora walked in front, Ilya followed behind, their footsteps one after the other on the wooden floor, making creaking sounds.
After going downstairs, the store owner was still sitting behind the counter. Seeing them come out, she smiled and nodded.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.” Flora responded and pushed open the door.
The street was a bit livelier than yesterday morning.
Someone passed by carrying a load on a pole, people stood at doorways talking, children ran past, laughter drifting from afar. The sunlight fell on the stone pavement, coloring everything in warm tones.
Flora walked in front, her steps a bit quicker than usual.
Ilya walked beside her, silent.
When they reached the shop at the street corner, Flora stopped and looked back at Ilya.
“This one?” she asked.
“Mm.”
The two of them went in, sat down, and ordered.
The food came quickly. Two bowls of porridge, a dish of pickled vegetables, two boiled eggs, and several steamed buns.
Flora picked up her chopsticks and ate with her head down.
She ate a bit faster than usual. Not because she was hungry, but because she wanted to finish quickly and get to the flower shop.
Ilya was still at her same pace, slow and leisurely, bite by bite.
After they finished eating, paid, and went to the flower shop.
Flora stood at the shop entrance and looked in the direction of the flower shop. The sunlight shone on her face. She squinted and raised a hand to shield her eyes.
“Let’s go.” she said.
The two walked side by side toward the flower shop. There were even more people on the street. There were vendors carrying loads, women holding children’s hands, travelers on horseback.
Flora walked through the crowd, occasionally turning sideways to make way for oncoming people.
From afar, she saw the flower shop.
The shop door was open.
Flora’s pace unconsciously quickened a little.
Ilya followed behind, still at the same pace.
When they reached the entrance, Flora stopped.
The shop wasn’t big, with a narrow front. A few pots of flowers were placed at the entrance, blooming beautifully. There were red, yellow, and purple ones, crowded together, lively and cheerful.
Flora stood at the entrance, looking inside.
A young girl was arranging bouquets inside the shop. Hearing the sound, she looked up and greeted them with a smile.
“Welcome! What flowers are you looking for?”
She looked at Flora with a bright smile, full of youthful energy.
Flora walked in and scanned the shop. Various flowers were displayed on shelves, in buckets, and in baskets, so many colors that it dazzled the eyes.
“I’d like…” She paused. “Two chrysanthemums. White ones.”
“Okay, just a moment.”
The young girl turned around, walked to the back, and pulled out several white chrysanthemums from a large bucket. She carefully picked through them, selected two of the best bloomed ones, and brought them over.
“Are these two okay?”
Flora took the flowers and looked down at them.
The petals were pure white, layered one after another around a yellow center. The flowers weren’t big, just the right size to hold in hand. The leaves were dark green, slender and long, making the petals look even whiter.
She looked at the two flowers and said nothing.
The young girl stood by and waited, not urging her.
After a few seconds, Flora looked up.
“How much?”
The girl waved her hand and said with a smile, “For two flowers, no need to pay. Let it be a gift.”
“That won’t do—”
“It’s fine, it’s fine, just two flowers.” The young girl waved her hand. “And since you’re such a cute girl, I’ll give them to you.”
Flora was stunned.
It was the first time she had heard a stranger call her a “cute girl.” That feeling was unfamiliar and hesitant, yet it made her happy and proud.
While Flora was still in a daze, Ilya had already taken out money from her pocket, neither too much nor too little.
“Take it.” She looked at the girl, her tone flat.
The girl hesitated for a moment, looked at the coins, then at Ilya, and finally accepted them with a smile.
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