"I think..." Meng Zhu hesitated, "Inviting people to dinner... we... it seems... you know, the household expenses this month. To invite guests, it'll cost at least a hundred or two. I'm afraid..."

  "Think of a way. Cut back on other expenses!" Ming Yuan said, a bit more urgently.

  Think of a way, again and again! If only there were a magic pot of treasure. But without that, what other way was there to think of? A single coin could never be two coins, and even the cleverest woman couldn't cook without rice.

  After dinner, Ming Yuan returned to the room, reclined in the wicker chair, and picked up the newspaper, as he usually did, reading it. However, Meng Zhu could tell from his vacant gaze and the paper that never turned over that he wasn't really reading it.

  Was it because of Wang Xiaocheng? Just an old friend—but this friend was tied to too many disorganized memories. Meng Zhu still remembered his loud, cheerful voice: "So, you two decided to get married? I'm anti-marriage; marriage is a shackle! But if you're getting married, I'll be your witness!"

  Indeed, he had been their witness—not just a witness, but had taken care of almost everything for the wedding—the most enthusiastic friend! Anti-marriage, but now he himself was married. Yes, marriage is a shackle, but eventually, everyone has to put that shackle around their necks.

  Xiao Tong quietly approached Meng Zhu, and in a low voice, whispered in her ear, "Mom, don't forget you promised me you'd figure something out, okay?"

  Meng Zhu was startled, pulling herself out of her thoughts. Figure something out! Yes, her daughter needed to attend social events, and she had to figure something out. Her husband needed to host an old friend for dinner, and she had to figure something out for that too! She stood up, feeling suddenly frustrated.

  Xiao Tong walked past her father, opened the paper door behind her, and returned to her room. Just before closing the door, she gave Meng Zhu a trusting and understanding smile. Ming Yuan lowered his newspaper, furrowed his brows, and said, “What′s Xiao Tong doing? Sneaking around?”

  “Nothing! Nothing at all,” Meng Zhu said, covering up. She stared at the closed paper doors, lost in thought. How much would a nicer dress cost? It was difficult to calcute; she hadn't been to a silk shop in ages. If only she could make Xiao Tong a white evening dress, pure white with little ce trim—suddenly, she jumped up. A white evening dress with ce trim! She remembered such a dress! The excitement lifted her spirits as she set aside Xiao Bai's uniform she had been about to mend and walked over to the closet. She opened the heavy, old leather suitcase. Ming Yuan stared at her, bewildered.

  “What are you doing?”

  "No, nothing," Meng Zhu said softly, stealing a gnce at Ming Yuan. "I just... need to find something."

  She rummaged through the clothes in the trunk, pulling out several garments before putting them back. Finally, she found what she was looking for: a white chiffon dress adorned with tiny silver sequins. She took the dress out, locked the trunk, and closed the closet door, quietly making her way to Xiao Tong's room with the dress.

  However, as soon as she looked up, she found Ming Yuan staring intently at her, watching the dress in her hands and then her face, as though searching for something. A sense of unease washed over her. Nervously, she stammered, "I thought... I could alter this for Xiao Tong to wear."

  "Mm." Ming Yuan hummed, his gaze still fixed on her face, and his scrutiny made her unease grow. To mask her anxiety, she forced herself to act casual and called out, "Xiao Tong!"

  Xiao Tong responded and entered. Meng Zhu handed her the dress, saying, "Go try it on and see if it fits. If it does, I can make a few adjustments." Xiao Tong took the dress, unfolded it, and the white chiffon cascaded like a waterfall, shimmering with the sequins catching the light. She looked up, her eyes sparkling in the light, and a joyful blush spread across her cheeks. She gazed at her mother, took a deep breath, and said, "Mom, is this your old dress? I've never seen it before. I thought you only wore qipaos! Oh, Mom, it's even new! Isn't it too fancy to give it to me?"

  "Go put it on and let me see!"

  Xiao Tong clutched the dress, her excitement barely contained, and turned to walk into her room. Meng Zhu watched her go, but as she turned back, her eyes immediately met Ming Yuan's. This time, his gaze was stern and cold.

  "Xiao Tong doesn't have anything to wear," Meng Zhu said quickly, her tone carrying a hint of pleading. "She needs a dress, and I couldn't think of another way."

  "Of course," Ming Yuan said sarcastically, "How thoughtful of you to save it all these years, waiting for her to grow up and wear it."

  "Please don't say that," Meng Zhu's voice wavered, no longer steady. "Xiao Tong is already eighteen. It's her cssmate's birthday party. I can't let her wear a uniform!"

  "Who told her to have such bad luck, being my daughter? A poor father who can't afford to raise such a noble child!" Ming Yuan's face darkened.

  "Ming Yuan!" Meng Zhu called out, "Why do you have to say things like that? What do you mean by all this?"

  At that moment, Xiao Tong returned, interrupting the argument between her parents.

  She had changed into the white chiffon dress, her steps graceful, her figure perfectly banced as she slowly walked toward them, resembling a celestial being descending from the heavens. A soft, ethereal smile blossomed on her face as she gazed quietly at her mother.

  "Mom, is it okay?" Xiao Tong asked, lifting her face with a smile.

  Meng Zhu gazed at her daughter, enveloped in the soft chiffon fabric, her eyes suddenly blurring with emotion. The dress, paired with Xiao Tong's delicate face, looked so graceful and elegant! In that moment, Meng Zhu truly appreciated Xiao Tong's pure, untainted beauty—white was the perfect color for her. Standing there like a graceful white crane, her daughter had grown into a beautiful young woman. Meng Zhu forced herself to suppress the overwhelming emotions swelling inside her and walked over, gently adjusting the waist of the dress. Xiao Tong's waist was slender, and the dress was slightly too rge for her.

  "You're thinner than I was," Meng Zhu said softly. "This part needs to be taken in a little." She then gnced at the ce colr. "The colr is outdated; we can change it to a rger neckline."

  "Oh, no!" Xiao Tong excimed. "I like this small round colr, and I love the little ce trim. Oh, Mom, this dress is so beautiful." She turned and stood in front of Ming Yuan, her joy making her forget her usual reverence for him. She smiled, lifted the hem of her skirt, and spun around lightly before stopping. "Dad, do I look good?"

  Ming Yuan furrowed his brow and gnced at her impatiently. He was about to say something, but when his eyes met Meng Zhu's pleading gaze, he swallowed hard, then reluctantly said, "Hmm, yes, you look great, very gorgeous."

  "Go take it off," Meng Zhu said, gently pushing Xiao Tong out of the room. "Let me make the alterations."

  "Mom, you're the best." Xiao Tong hugged her mother tightly and nestled her head against Meng Zhu's chest for a moment before going back to her room to change.

  Now, Meng Zhu and Ming Yuan stood facing each other, both dazed, a yer of awkwardness hanging in the air between them. They stood like that for a long time before Ming Yuan, as though trying to cover something up, coughed and gave a helpless smile. "Well, I guess the dress is meant to be hers."

  "Ming Yuan," Meng Zhu said softly, her tone filled with both apology and a plea for understanding, "you know I had no choice. The child needs clothes."

  "Of course," Ming Yuan replied with a faint smile that was neither warm nor cold. "I just didn't realize you had kept that particur piece of clothing for so many years."

  "The fabric is of excellent quality. It would've been a waste to throw it away."

  "And perhaps, along with the fabric, there are other things you couldn't bring yourself to discard either," Ming Yuan murmured, his expression still carrying that faint, ambiguous smile.

  "Ming Yuan, what's wrong with you?"

  "Nothing," Ming Yuan said as he settled back into his chair, picking up the newspaper again to shield his face. His voice emerged from behind the pages, distant yet clear.

  "She's your daughter, after all. Naturally, you can dress her however you like."

  Meng Zhu stood there in a daze, staring bnkly at the newspaper that now seemed to form a barrier between her and Ming Yuan. Suddenly, a chill ran through her. She felt as though the newspaper was growing thicker and thicker—until it transformed into a solid wall, firmly standing between them.