“Mom, Second Sister-in-law, I’m sorry for making you worry.”
Shen Zhiqiu had called home from the village committee earlier, afraid that Wan Jiayin might grow anxious if she returned late—or didn’t return at all.
“It’s fine, as long as you’re back safe.”
Wan Jiayin patted Shen Zhiqiu’s hand and led her inside, handing her a bowl of silver ear soup. “Drink this to warm your stomach first. I’ll get your dinner.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
Noticing Meng Fang still lingering by the door, peering outside, Shen Zhiqiu walked over. “Second Sister-in-law, are you waiting for Second Brother?”
“Mhm.”
Ever since Yue Mingli had left, Meng Fang had been restless, silently praying he wouldn’t get hurt.
Seeing how pale and cold Meng Fang’s hands were, Shen Zhiqiu quickly rubbed them to warm them up, soothing her gently. “Don’t worry about Second Brother. He’s fine—I saw him at Hexi Village this evening.”
“Zhiqiu, was he injured?” Meng Fang grabbed her arm urgently.
Shen Zhiqiu shook her head. “No, he’s perfectly fine.”
Meng Fang’s tense shoulders finally relaxed, her legs nearly giving way. Shen Zhiqiu steadied her and helped her sit down.
“Second Sister-in-law, have you not eaten either?”
She handed Meng Fang her own bowl of silver ear soup. “Here, have some first.”
“If you’re still worried, I can take you to the station later to see him.”
“No need. Knowing he’s safe is enough.”
Meng Fang waved her hand, exhaling deeply. She took the bowl and lifted it to her lips—but the scent suddenly churned her stomach.
“Ugh—” She set it down abruptly, covering her mouth as she rushed to the bathroom.
“Second Sister-in-law, what’s wrong?” Shen Zhiqiu followed, patting her back.
“Xiao Fang… could you be…?”
Wan Jiayin, returning with dinner, caught sight of this and hurried over.
Meng Fang straightened up, accepting the towel Shen Zhiqiu handed her. Wiping her mouth, she nodded shyly at Wan Jiayin.
“Oh, this is wonderful news!”
Wan Jiayin’s eyes lit up, beaming as she and Shen Zhiqiu helped Meng Fang back to the table. “Xiao Fang, tell me what you’d like to eat. Auntie Zhao and I will make it for you.”
“Mom, I’d like sour-spicy noodles.”
Meng Fang swallowed repeatedly, then glanced sheepishly at Shen Zhiqiu. “The kind Zhiqiu made before.”
“That’s easy! Just wait—I’ll make it right away.”
Shen Zhiqiu prepared the sauce while Auntie Zhao kneaded the dough. Working together, they soon had a steaming, fragrant bowl ready.
“Second Sister-in-law, try it. Is this the taste you wanted?”
Meng Fang took a bite and nodded eagerly. “Yes, exactly this!”
“Zhiqiu, you should eat too. I’m so sorry—you’re exhausted, haven’t had a bite, and still had to cook for me.” Guilt tinged Meng Fang’s voice.
“We’re family.”
Shen Zhiqiu winked playfully. “Besides, right now, you’re the panda of the household—our top priority.”
“Oh, so you’re throwing my own words back at me?”
Meng Fang couldn’t suppress her joy, her hand drifting to her abdomen as she murmured, “But being the panda does feel pretty good.”
“Second Sister-in-law, congratulations.”
Shen Zhiqiu clasped her hands warmly, knowing how deeply Meng Fang had longed for this child.
“Thank you, Zhiqiu.”
Meng Fang’s nose suddenly stung, tears welling uncontrollably.
“Second Sister-in-law!” Shen Zhiqiu panicked.
“I’m fine—just happy.” Meng Fang wiped at her cheeks, but the tears kept coming.
“Mom! Fang’er! I’m back!”
Yue Mingli parked the car and rushed inside.
At the sight of him, Meng Fang burst into fresh sobs. “Why are you only coming back now?”
“Fang’er, don’t cry, don’t cry.”
Yue Mingli pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back soothingly. “I knew you’d worry, so I came as fast as I could.”
“Let me look at you.”
Sniffling, Meng Fang pushed him back, scrutinizing every inch of him.
“None of this is mine.”
Yue Mingli pointed to the bloodstains on his clothes, then spread his arms and turned in a circle. “See? Completely unharmed.”
“I promised you, didn’t I?”
He took the handkerchief from her and dabbed at her tears. “Fang’er, please stop crying. You’re breaking my heart—that’s the only injury I’ll get.”
“Oh, shut up!”
Meng Fang shoved him away, pinching her nose and fanning the air. “Go shower! You reek!”
“Yeah, I do.”
Yue Mingli sniffed his sleeve—dirt, blood, and sweat. Even he couldn’t stand it. “Be right back.”
“Mom, any food left? I haven’t eaten either.”
“Plenty! It’ll be ready when you’re out.”
“Great!”
After his shower, Yue Mingli ate while questioning Shen Zhiqiu. “Zhiqiu, weren’t you supposed to be back at the cultural troupe? How’d you end up in Hexi Village?”
He remembered Ya Ya’s “message”—that Old Dong and his granddaughter had been killed by the two fugitives. After capturing them, he’d hurried to Old Dong’s courtyard, only to find it empty.
Rushing to the village committee to ask the chief, he’d unexpectedly run into Shen Zhiqiu on the way, helping Old Dong and his granddaughter back home.
Pressed for time, they’d only exchanged brief greetings then.
“At the troupe, Xiao Mei told me Old Dong was sick, so I went to check on him.”
“On the way, I spotted those two fugitives.”
Shen Zhiqiu had prepared her explanation. “When I got there, seeing how isolated their place was, I worried Xiao Mei couldn’t care for Old Dong alone, so I suggested they stay at the village chief’s for a few days.”
“Then, remembering the fugitives, I reported it at the committee and tried calling you, but your colleagues said you weren’t in.”
“By evening, when the village patrol mentioned the fugitives were near Hexi Village, I knew I had to get Old Dong and Xiao Mei back home safely—and that’s when I ran into you.”
“Quite a coincidence.”
Yue Mingli couldn’t find fault with her story. Part of him wondered if she, too, could hear Ya Ya’s thoughts—but ultimately, it didn’t matter.
As long as their family was safe and happy, nothing else was important.
“Oh, Ya Ya’s awake?”
Unlike other babies who cried upon waking, Ya Ya always stirred in silence.
