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Summary
Even after eight hundred years, Mu Qing could remember his mother’s name (Wen Xiaodan), what he called her (Māma) and what she looked like (an almost-exact copy of Mu Qing, only a lot happier and a little bit shorter); lord, he even vaguely remembered his elder siblings, who up and left their family before he was eight years old, but not his father.
His father’s touch was warm, soft. His voice a deep, soothing baritone, his chest warm and safe. He remembered aspects, parts of the person but not the whole.
Mu Qing longed to remember the whole
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