Ashan's eldest sister felt that her parents were getting old, and continuing to live in this flood-prone military dependents' village might not be good for their health. If there were another flood, their lives might even be at risk. So she strongly insisted on moving. However, Ashan’s parents didn’t have the financial means and were reluctant to leave their old neighbors. But this time, Ashan's sister was firm. She told her mother, "If you still refuse to move, it means you don’t want me as your daughter." Knowing there was a deeper meaning in her words, Ashan's mother finally agreed.
Ashan's sister found an apartment in the eastern part of Taipei, an area where flooding was "absolutely" not a problem. It was about 30 ping (approximately 990 square feet), and the selling price at the time was nearly 200,000 New Taiwan dollars. After she reserved the apartment, she sent over her savings from years of delivering newspapers, along with some secret money, to Ashan’s parents, paying off the entire amount. Ashan’s mother used the 50,000 they received from selling the rights to their military housing to buy new furniture. After 15 years in Taiwan, they finally had their own home.
When Ashan was about to leave the military dependents’ village, where he had lived for nearly 12 years, he was filled with nostalgia. Especially for the friends he grew up with—they had gone to school together, gotten into fights as a group, watched outdoor movies, and played basketball shirtless. These deep bonds were hard to let go of.
Ashan took one last look around this place, full of both joy and hardship. The surrounding houses had mostly been rebuilt as the economy improved, but the military homes, after more than ten years, now looked worn and outdated. The eucalyptus trees planted by the villagers when they first arrived had grown tall and strong, making the short and old military houses look even smaller and more out of place.
The friends from the village decided to have one last game at the school for the blind and deaf, as a way to say goodbye to Ah-Mei (aka Wang Jingmei) and their other friends there. That evening, they gathered in a friend's yard for one last storytelling session, retelling old stories again and again. Luckily, young people are always optimistic, knowing there would be chances to meet again in the future.
Only Xiao-Hui remained mostly silent. At the urging of the group, Ashan gave her a farewell hug. Xiao-Hui’s fragrance was still as fresh as ever, and the once budding flower had now blossomed.
Ashan whispered "Take care" in Xiao-Hui’s ear. The feelings of reluctance to part were too difficult to express, so they remained deeply hidden in their hearts as they embraced.
大姐覺得父母年紀都大了，在這大水淹過的眷村再住下去，可能對身體也不好。如果再淹一次大水，恐怕生命都難保，所以力主搬家。阿三爸媽沒有這個經濟能力，也捨不得這些老鄰居們。可是大姐這次非常的堅決，她跟媽說：「如果妳再不同意搬家，就表示不要我這個女兒了。」阿三媽知道大姐話中有話，就答應了。
大姐幫大家在北市東區 “絕” 不淹水的地方找到了一個公寓，大約卅坪，當時賣價近廿萬。大姐訂下這房子後，匯了自己多年來做派報社積下來的儲蓄，再加上些私房錢給阿三爸媽，付清了所有的款項。阿三媽把眷舍頂給別人的權利金五萬元買了些新傢俱。來台灣十五年，總算有了自己的房子。
當阿三將要搬離這已居住了近十二年的眷村時，心中有許多的懷念。尤其是一起成長的朋友，大家曾經一起上學，一夥打架，看露天電影，光著赤膞打球。這份深厚的感情著實放不下。
阿三再次環視這充滿了喜悅及苦難的地方。週圍的民房都已經因為經濟改善，而大多改建了。倒是這十幾年的老眷舍，卻顯得十分的破舊。尤其是村民在剛搬來時種下的尤加利樹，現在已長的又高又壯，突顯出眷舍的矮拙。
村子裏的伙伴們相約再到盲啞學校去打一次球，也好向阿美和盲啞朋友們告別。晚上在好友的院子裏再擺一次龍門陣，大夥把以前的故事說了一遍又一遍。好在年輕人永遠是樂觀的，反正以後還有見面的機會。
只是小蕙一直不太說話，阿三在大伙的慫恿下，作了離別前的擁抱。小蕙的氣息仍然是那麼清香，而初開的蓓蕾卻已變成了綻放的花朵。
阿三對著小蕙的耳朵輕聲說了保重，依依不捨之情實難以開口，只好深藏在兩個相擁的心中。
