Have You Ever Loved Me? (1)

In the old house in Blaise, a three-year-old child, his thin body drooping, leaned alone against the cold corner of the wall.

He had carefully cleaned the floor and finished all the chores his mother had assigned. He didn't dare to run around or make a sound; he just curled up his little shoulders and waited quietly.

The faint light of the setting sun slanted into the room, and most of the walls were already bathed in dim shadow. The small shadows were stretched thin and long, lying alone at the foot of the room.

His little hands, wet and stained with water, hung limply, his eyelashes drooping gently. He neither cried nor laughed, but simply stared blankly into his eyes, quietly waiting for his mother to return.

All was quiet, and only his thin, lonely little figure remained in the room, silently waiting in the corner.

As dusk faded, night completely swallowed the last rays of sunlight inside the room.

The sky outside the window turned from deep blue to dark black, and the whole house fell into a deep silence. The child was still curled up in the corner, his small body already slightly stiff from the cold.

I waited from dusk until late at night, and then slowly made it to midnight.

The floor was already completely dry, and the chores he had finished were left there quietly, untouched by anyone who came to check them or even called out to him.

Drowsiness washed over him in waves, and his eyelids were so heavy he could barely keep them open, yet he dared not move an inch. His little hands clenched tightly, and he stubbornly remained in the corner.

The long night passed without a sound from inside the house; Mother never returned.

Only the occasional night breeze passing by the window silently accompanied the lonely child as he waited hopelessly in the cold corner.

Blaise's small fingers trembled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the Two-Way Mirror with a thin frame. The cool frame pressed against his palm. He remembered his mother teaching him that as long as he called someone's name, the mirrors would connect them.

He pursed his lips, which were white from the cold, and whispered his mother's name.

"Hey, what's up now?"

A thin layer of silver mist appeared on the mirror, and it slowly began to glow, revealing Mrs Zabini's cold voice.

"Mom... Mom... I've finished the task you assigned... When... when can you come back?"

Three-year-old Blaise fought back tears, trying to make his voice sound normal, and cautiously spoke to his mother in the Two-Way Mirror.

"You need to learn to listen, Blaise. Soon, you'll be on your own."

Mrs Zabini, on the other side of the mirror, didn't give Blaise another chance to speak and abruptly hung up the call.

"Okay, Mom... I'll be waiting for you..."

"Boom!"

The torrential rain pounded against the windowsills of the houses, and thunderclaps boomed in the night sky, making the walls tremble slightly.

Pale flashes of lightning occasionally ripped through the thick night sky, only to plunge back into the boundless darkness in an instant. Rainwater streamed incessantly down the eaves, its rushing sound filling the deathly silent house.

The little boy huddled in his small blanket, his thin body trembling slightly. He carefully took out the small Two-Way Mirror from his pocket, his little hands, red from the cold, gripped the icy frame, and timidly called out his mother's name.

"Mom... good evening, I miss you so much..."

The mirror didn't show the other side of the scene clearly; only the noisy laughter, ambiguous banter, and the boisterous sounds of men and women frolicking could be clearly heard through the mirror.

"Don't bother me, can't you go to sleep?"

"But Mom... it's thundering... I'm so scared..."

Mrs Zabini did not hear what little Blaise said, because she hung up the phone after she finished speaking.

Thunder rumbled across the sky. Blaise, head bowed, clutched the faintly glowing mirror, wrapped in thin blankets, hoping it would bring him some warmth in the howling wind and rain of the dark night.

"Mom, today is Children's Day! Can... can you come back and spend some time with me?"

June 1st is also Blaise Zabini's birthday.

The four-year-old child sat alone on the soft bed. The large room was cold and empty; there was no cake, no gifts, and no one to keep him company.

Little Blaise looked at the hazy, swaying mirror and spoke quietly, his voice childish yet carrying a hint of restrained anticipation.

The noise on the other side of the mirror showed no signs of abating, with laughter and chatter filling the air.

"Blaise, call me Mother. You've grown up; it's time for you to learn to be independent."

"I know, Mother, but I still want you to come back and keep me company... I haven't seen you in so long..."

But the light on the mirror had gone out, and Blaise hugged his knees, murmuring to himself.

"Mother, why are you ignoring me..."

As she spoke, she couldn't hold back her tears any longer.

Laughter and Christmas carols filled the streets outside the window, and warm yellow lights lit up every house, filling the entire magical town with joy.

This magnificent mansion, however, was eerily quiet and desolate.

Four-year-old Blaise Zabini was alone in his spacious, empty bedroom. He had kept the room impeccably tidy, but no one would say a word to him.

There were no gifts piled under the Christmas tree, no warm wine and pastries, no gentle greetings from loved ones.

He sat quietly by the soft windowsill, watching the gentle snow fall outside, the warm glow of families reunited in other homes, and the joyful noise of the streets and alleys filtering through the glass, making his world seem even more desolate and quiet.

With a click, the Entrance Hall door was suddenly pushed open.

Upon hearing the noise, Blaise's eyes lit up. Without thinking, his heart was filled with unexpected joy. He immediately got up from the windowsill, his small feet treading the floor, and rushed towards the stairwell, convinced that his mother had returned to spend the holiday with him.

But seeing the unfamiliar man beside his mother, he slowly stopped in his tracks.

"What are you standing there for? He's your new father, call him father now."

Mrs Zabini, who was changing her shoes, looked at Blaise, who was still in a daze, and scolded the ignorant child.

"Oh... okay, Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad."

The enormous mansion was magnificent and seemed to have everything, yet it seemed to lack only a touch of human warmth.

The little child sat quietly at the table, watching the two chatting happily. There was no fuss or noise, but a sense of loneliness and solitude that seemed beyond his years was slowly settling in his clear eyes.

The hustle and bustle belongs to everyone in the world; he simply has nothing.

The first light of dawn filtered through the carved window screens into the long corridor.

Blaise woke up early in the morning, walked barefoot to his mother's bedroom door, and gently pushed it open.

The room was tidy and the bed was made neatly, but it was no longer warm to the touch.

The room was empty; Mother and the man from last night had long since left.

He stood at the doorway, his small figure hovering on the threshold. The little bit of expectation that had just ignited in his heart quietly sank away, but stubbornly, he still took out the Two-Way Mirror and began to call out his mother's name.

"Mother... why did you leave without even saying goodbye..."

Blaise spoke cautiously, afraid of upsetting his mother, but the cold tone on the other side of the mirror proved that Mrs Zabini was very unhappy.

Are you blaming me? Who else could I have done all this for?!

Hearing his mother's scolding words, Blaise gripped the Two-Way Mirror tightly with his little hands, his grievances almost overflowing.

"I'm sorry... Mother, I was being presumptuous. I just missed you so much..."

Blaise paused, then spoke softly.

"Mother, could you take me with you next time...?"