Chapter 70: Little Ai

Xunxun:

I hope this letter finds you well.

If I recall correctly, the very first question you ever asked me was whether I had a childhood nickname.

At the time, my expression turned cold, and I denied it.

Even after my tone softened and I apologized, I knew you must have felt hurt inside, because to you, it was nothing more than an ordinary conversation.

Your tolerance of me then was perhaps born from affection, enabling you to endure everything about me.

But thinking back on it now, I was truly being unreasonable. You were completely in the dark, simply asking out of politeness. Yet I was so detestable, not only snapping at you with harsh words but also turning and walking away, making me seem like someone difficult to get along with.

Xunxun, I apologize to you once more, and I want to explain my thought process.

It’s because I was unwilling to bring up the past, and this nickname… no one has ever called me by it. Perhaps someone once called it out in the gentlest voice, but I was not yet born, so naturally, I would never know.

Before I tell you the nickname, I want to tell you about my mother.

Her name was Bo Wanrou. Many people have told me her personality and appearance matched her name—gentle and soft, like a girl who stepped out of the water towns of Jiangnan.

In the past, on the rare occasions I went to the Bo family home, my uncle would take my hand and tell me about his younger sister, my mother.

She was born during the Bo family’s most glorious era. Her life was smooth sailing from childhood to adulthood; whatever she wished for, she obtained.

The sole obstacle in her life was meeting Jiang Wende. Duped by his sweet talk, she was unmarried and pregnant at eighteen. Carrying me in her womb, she disregarded everyone’s opposition and married the penniless Jiang Wende, severing ties with the Bo family without hesitation.

Every time the story reaches this point, my resolute uncle would shed tears of regret. My mother was his only sister, and seeing her weep so pitifully, his heart softened. He did not forcefully pressure her to cut ties with Jiang Wende.

She believed she was marrying for love, believing Jiang Wende would build a fortune from nothing like the male lead in a novel, allowing her to continue living a prosperous life. But after the marriage, Jiang Wende’s true nature was exposed: alcoholism, gambling, womanizing. Marriage brought her only misery.

More tragically, Bo Wanrou died in childbirth.

The name Jiang Bomu was chosen by Jiang Wende. The reason the character ‘Bo’ is in the middle was simply to make it easier to extort money from the Bo family, under the noble pretense of raising me, but in reality, to fund his vices.

I have never liked this name, because it represents greed.

My nickname was chosen by my mother. As for how I came to know it, it was because I read her diary. During those ten months of pregnancy, she wrote in it every single day without fail, recording her feelings and her love and hopes for me.

I will never be able to truly know the depths of her love for me; I can only glimpse the tip of the iceberg.

I still remember you asking me why I keep transferring money to Jiang Wende. It’s not because I have any feelings left for him, but because that diary is currently in Jiang Wende’s hands. I don’t want him to destroy my mother’s love for me. This is, of course, only one of the reasons, but it is the most important one.

I’ve rambled on a bit; let’s get back to the point. My nickname is Little Ai. My mother wished for me to always have the right to love and be loved. I think, by now, I’ve already gained it, and it is inexhaustible and never-ending.

Xunxun, I have always thought of you as the warm winter sun, offering me comfort in every cold season, even though I never realized your light was shining on me every single moment.

You’ve never told me “I love you,” so let me be the one to say it first.

I love you. I will love you forever.

The iced milk tea, with only a single sip taken, was set aside. Condensed water droplets slowly slid down the plastic packaging, dripping off as the cup was moved, blurring and deepening the elegant script on the letter paper.

Gu Yu hurriedly put the milk tea down, pulled out a few tissues, and carefully dabbed at it, but it was useless; that small patch of writing became terribly fragile.

She was filled with frustration and regret. She laid the letter paper on the table to dry and picked up her phone to send Jiang Bomu a message.

The more she understood her, the more her heart ached for her. Gu Yu felt grateful that she hadn’t missed out on Jiang Bomu just because of a moment of impulse.

She wiped the corner of her eye and solemnly clicked send.

【Classmate Little Ai, I love you too.】

Jiang Bomu’s reply was fast and simple: a string of ordinary ellipses.

Gu Yu deliberately teased her: 【Little Ai, are you tired today?】

【I’m okay.】

【Little Ai, I’m so tired today.】

【Rest a bit more.】

Before Gu Yu could type out the next line, Jiang Bomu said: 【Do you have to include ‘Little Ai’ in every single sentence?】

Gu Yu called her, her voice beaming: “Yep, Classmate Little Ai.”

Jiang Bomu sighed: “I should’ve known better than to tell you.”

“Too late.” Gu Yu asked seriously, “Starting today, I’ll call out the childhood nickname that’s been missing for the past twenty-seven years on behalf of your mother. Do you agree, Classmate Little Ai?”

A warm current flowed through Jiang Bomu’s heart. She smiled: “What difference does agreeing or not make? You’ve already started. But…”

“But what?”

“But I still prefer it when you call me ‘Sister’.”

Gu Yu drawled slowly: “Little Ai in the daytime, Sister at night. They don’t conflict.”

Jiang Bomu couldn’t do anything about her and could only tacitly consent.

Suddenly, Gu Yu didn’t know what else to say either, and both fell into silence.

She didn’t want to bring up the contents of the letter, afraid Jiang Bomu would once again sink into heart-wrenching emotions. Just as she was about to change the subject, Jiang Bomu spoke first: “Xunxun, do you think if my mother were still alive, she would call me that too?”

Gu Yu’s heart sank. Wanting to keep the atmosphere from turning heavy, she spoke with a smile: “Of course she would. She would definitely call you that way more often than I do. Right, Classmate Little Ai?”

“Mm. If she were here, I definitely wouldn’t have become a star,” Jiang Bomu mused. “I would have been a teacher, just like she wrote in her diary. Living a nine-to-five life, coming home in the evening to eat and talk with her, wishing each other goodnight.”

Gu Yu suddenly remembered that her university major was in teacher education. She had once been just one step away from her mother’s hopes, but at twenty, she was chosen by Grandma to be the lead in a movie, stepping into the entertainment industry.

Gu Yu bit her lip and asked: “Have you ever resented Grandma for it?”

“Of course not,” Jiang Bomu was a little surprised and explained seriously, “I’m very grateful to her. She helped me earn a lot of money and let me feel the love from my fans and from her.”

Pausing, she continued: “And… I also met you. This is the best possible outcome. My mother’s spirit in heaven would be happy for me too.”

Towards the end, her voice caught a little. Gu Yu wished she could fly straight over and hug her, but separated by a great distance, she could only hug her phone and offer dry comfort: “Sister, your mother would definitely be proud of you.”

“I think so too.” Jiang Bomu let out a gentle breath and suddenly asked, “Why didn’t you call me Little Ai this time?”

Gu Yu was speechless for a moment, then blurted: “Little Ai, Little Ai, Little Ai.”

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.” Jiang Bomu broke into a smile through her tears. “I feel like I’ve turned into an AI.”

“I’d love you even if you were a robot,” Gu Yu laughed too. “When your mother gave you that name, she must have predicted the future, right?”

Jiang Bomu didn’t quite understand her meaning.

Gu Yu slowly explained: “Lots of people have a ‘Little Ai’ smart speaker at home. So many people calling out your nickname is like they’re calling it out in place of your mother. Sister, your mother just found a different way to stay by your side, all along.”

Classmate Little Ai.

I’m here.

Mom is here too.