Zheng Yuheng sat back in the armchair, the charcoal fire casting a layer of warm color on his face.

He stared at the dancing flames and said in a low and gentle voice: "Do you remember the sparrow we rescued in the yard last winter?"

Zheng Wanqing was startled, and the morning after the snow appeared in front of her eyes: "I remember. Its wings were injured, and it was kept in a cage. I also fed it millet every day."

"After its wounds healed, it refused to fly when the cage was opened." Zheng Yuheng sighed imperceptibly, "It had been locked up for so long that it had forgotten how to fly."

Zheng Wanqing looked at the tea leaves floating on the surface of the teapot. The tender green buds were floating in the water, sometimes up and sometimes down.

She suddenly felt her eyes getting hot and her vision gradually blurred.

"Fourth sister is the sparrow." Zheng Yuheng said softly, "You think she is suffering in the cage." He looked up at Zheng Wanqing with deep eyes, "but for her, the outside of the cage is terrifying."

A teardrop fell into the tea, creating tiny ripples.

Zheng Wanqing hurriedly wiped the corners of her eyes with her sleeves: "But brother, I..." Her voice choked with sobs and she could not say any more.

"You tried your best." Zheng Yuheng interrupted her, his voice gentle but firm. He reached out and gently covered the back of her trembling hand, "There are thousands of roads in this world, and not everyone dares to take them."

Zheng Yuheng looked at her, his eyes softened a little, and a few fine lines appeared at the corners of his eyes: "Xiao Xiao will be on vacation in two days. Let her accompany you to Dashilan. I heard that she opened a Western pastry shop. Don't you love sweets the most?"

Then he took out a purse from his sleeve and said, "Here are some silver coins, take them..."

Zheng Wanqing couldn't help but laugh when she saw this, her eyebrows were dyed with smiles: "Brother, are you afraid that I, the wife of a young marshal, will starve to death outside?"

Zheng Yuheng still stubbornly stuffed the purse into her hand, "Young Marshal is Young Marshal, and I am my father." His tone was unyielding, "As a brother, it is only natural to give your sister some pocket money."

Zheng Wanqing knew she couldn't get away from him, so she had to take the purse. Her fingertips touched the heavy silver dollars inside: "Then I thank you, brother."

She deliberately weighed the purse in her hand, with a sly gleam in her eyes, "Sister Xiao and I will definitely live up to your kindness and spend all the money."

"That's my own fault." Zheng Yuheng nodded with satisfaction, with a doting look in his eyes, "Don't let down the example of Miss Zheng."

"Last time, Sister Xiao said she would take me to see a play."

"That's right." A smile flashed across Zheng Yuheng's eyes. "I heard from my colleague today that the ace of Shuangwei Street Theater will be performing again."

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That...what's her name...White Peony?"

"Really?" Zheng Wanqing's teacup shook and she almost spilled the tea.

She hastily put down the teacup, and a genuine look of joy finally appeared in her eyes.

Seeing her reaction, Zheng Yuheng raised his lips unconsciously: "I will ask for two tickets with good seats tomorrow."

The night wind gently blew through the window lattice, and the candlelight flickered, casting the shadows of the brother and sister on the wall, quiet and warm.

Zheng Yuheng stood up, and his robe rustled against each other.

He stretched out his hand to straighten his cuffs and said gently, "It's getting late, go to bed early."

When he reached the door, he turned back and reminded, "Remember to put a cover on the charcoal basin," and pointed at the fading charcoal fire with his finger, "Be careful of the smoke."

Zheng Wanqing nodded slightly: "I save that trouble."

He waited until the door closed gently before looking away.