Child

These days haven't been too busy, and Qi Shuo has been visiting Qing Ran at the hospital much more often.

Qingran's recovery progress is gratifying. She can now walk and stand normally, although she can't walk for too long and her legs still ache. But it's a world of difference compared to the days when she could only lie in bed or sit in a wheelchair.

That afternoon, the sun shone brightly, and a gentle breeze blew. Qi Shuo held Qing Ran's hand and carefully led her out of the ward and into the hospital's back garden. Qing Ran wore a light pink dress, her hair tied in two small braids, and strolled leisurely through the garden like a carefree child.

Qi Shuo walked beside her, supporting her steadily with one hand and holding her rabbit doll in the other, his eyes always on her, afraid that she might fall.

There weren't many people in the back garden, only a few patients strolling with their families. Qingran walked step by step to the railing at the back gate, her little hands gripping the railing, standing on tiptoe, and looking out longingly.

Qi Shuo followed her gaze and saw that the place was empty. The spot where the old man who used to sell candied hawthorns used to stop was now deserted.

Qi Shuo smiled helplessly, squatted down to be at eye level with Qing Ran, and deliberately softened his voice, using a tone of coaxing a child: "Ranran, do you want to eat candied hawthorn?"

Qingran turned her head, her amber eyes sparkling, and nodded vigorously. She grabbed Qi Shuo's arm with her small hand, shook it gently, and made muffled, coquettish humming sounds.

Qi Shuo couldn't stand her like this. In front of Qing Ran, he always compromised without any principles.

He sighed and ruffled her hair. "Okay, I'll go buy it for you. You wait here and don't wander off, okay?"

Qingran nodded again, obediently letting go of his hand and standing still. Qi Shuo got up and strode towards the hospital entrance. He knew Qingran liked the candied hawthorns sold by that old man; they were sweet and sour, and she would be happy for a long time after eating them.

But today, he circled around the hospital entrance but didn't see that familiar figure. He asked the security guard at the entrance and learned that the old man had something to do today and hadn't come to set up his stall.

Qi Shuo was somewhat disappointed, but he couldn't bear to keep Qing Ran waiting. After thinking for a moment, he went to a nearby convenience store, bought a small strawberry cream cake and a bottle of milk, and then returned to the hospital.

In the back garden, Qingran stood still, motionless, like a well-behaved doll. When she saw Qi Shuo return, her eyes lit up instantly, and she immediately went to greet him.

Qi Shuo quickly stepped forward to support her and said softly, "Slow down, don't fall."

Qingran looked up expectantly at the bag in his hand. Qi Shuo smiled, led her to a bench, and took out a cake and milk from the bag: "The grandpa who sells candied hawthorns didn't come today, so your brother bought you a small cake, okay?"

Qingran looked at the cake, then at Qi Shuo, and finally nodded and sat down obediently.

Qi Shuo opened the cake box, scooped out a small piece with a spoon, and brought it to Qing Ran's lips. Qing Ran opened her mouth, took the spoon in, and slowly chewed. The cream was sweet but not cloying, and the strawberries were fresh and juicy. Her eyes curved into crescents; she clearly liked it very much.

Qi Shuo's heart melted at the sight of her. He fed her bite by bite, his movements gentle and patient. Qing Ran ate very slowly, savoring each bite, occasionally sticking out her little tongue to lick the cream from the corner of her mouth, like a greedy little kitten.

Halfway through the meal, Qingran suddenly shook her head, indicating that she didn't want to eat anymore. Qi Shuo thought she was full and was about to clean up when he saw Qingran point at the cake, then at him, making a muffled sound: "Brother...eat."

Qi Shuo was stunned. He subconsciously shook his head, his voice still gentle: "Brother isn't hungry, Ranran, eat."

Qingran frowned, her lips pursed into a thin line, and her cheeks puffed out, clearly unhappy. She turned her head away, no longer looking at Qi Shuo or the cake, adopting a "if you don't eat it, I won't eat it either" attitude.

Qi Shuo was a little stunned. He hadn't expected Qing Ran to be angry because he wouldn't eat the cake. Looking at the little one who had suddenly turned her head away angrily, he didn't know what to say for a moment, and could only tentatively coax, "Ranran, be good, how about you have another bite?"

Qingran ignored him, still with her back to him, her small hands tightly gripping the hem of her skirt.

Qi Shuo had no choice but to compromise: "Okay, brother will have a bite, and Ranran will have a bite too, okay?"

Qingran then turned her head, looked at him with bright eyes, and nodded.

Qi Shuo smiled, scooped out a small piece of cake, pulled down his mask slightly, and put it in his mouth. The cream melted on his tongue, sweet and with the fragrance of strawberries. He didn't actually like sweets, but at this moment, this piece of cake was unexpectedly delicious, and he fed Qing Ran another spoonful.

"Is it good?" he asked Qingran.

Qingran nodded vigorously, her eyes curving into crescents.

Qi Shuo scooped out another small piece and brought it to her lips: "Ranran, have some more."

Qingran opened her mouth and obediently ate the cake, quickly finishing it.

Qi Shuo took out the milk, inserted a straw, and handed it to Qing Ran. Qing Ran took it and drank it in small sips, her eyes squinting with satisfaction.

After finishing the cake and drinking the milk, Qingran suddenly reached out to remove Qi Shuo's mask.

Qi Shuo was startled and instinctively turned his head to dodge. Qing Ran's hand froze in mid-air, a hint of doubt and disappointment flashing in her eyes.

"Ranran, no." Qi Shuo said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "Brother... can't take off his mask."

Qingran pursed her lips and slowly lowered her small hand. She lowered her head, remained silent for a while, then suddenly slid off the bench, straightened up, and huffed and puffed as she slowly walked towards the ward.

Qi Shuo paused for a second, then quickly followed, carefully protecting her.

Qingran walked very fast—very fast for her—her face was tense, clearly still angry.

Back in the ward, Qingran climbed into bed and buried herself completely under the covers, like a little turtle retreating into its shell.

Qi Shuo stood by the bed and coaxed softly, "Ranran, come out, okay? Brother will tell you a story."

The little bulge inside the blanket remained motionless.

"Ranran?" Qi Shuo called out again, but there was still no response.

He sighed, sat down on the chair by the bed, and quietly looked at the bundle of blankets.

He didn't know how to explain why he couldn't take off his mask, nor how to make Qingran understand.

She was just a child whose mind was still at the child stage. She didn't understand the complicated past, nor the heavy pain. She just... wanted to see her brother's face.

Qi Shuo sat there, watching the sun gradually set outside the window, his thoughts drifting away.

He remembered many things—that rainy night, that broken home, his sister lying in a pool of blood, and… Tan Huaiyu kneeling behind the sofa, protecting Qi Shan with all his might.

After an unknown amount of time, the blanket stirred. A small head peeked out, its amber eyes cautiously looking at Qi Shuo.

Just then, Qi Shuo turned his head, and their eyes met in mid-air.

Qingran blinked, seemingly surprised that Qi Shuo was still there.

She hesitated for a moment, then suddenly crawled out from under the covers, pounced on Qi Shuo, hugged his neck tightly with her small hands, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek through his mask.

Qi Shuo froze. The kiss was very light, almost imperceptible through the fabric, but in that instant, his heart felt as if it had been struck hard by something, a bittersweet feeling that almost brought tears to his eyes.

After Qingran finished kissing him, she let go of his hand, tilted her head to look at him, seemingly observing his reaction. Seeing Qi Shuo standing there in a daze, she blinked in confusion and reached out to take off his mask again.

Qi Shuo then came to his senses and gently took her hand: "Ranran, no."

Qingran pursed her lips and obediently put her hand down, but this time she wasn't angry.

She snuggled into Qi Shuo's arms, resting her little head on his chest, and said softly, "Tell me a story, big brother, tell me a story."

Qi Shuo breathed a sigh of relief, picked up the fairy tale book from the bedside table, opened it, and began to tell her a story. His voice was deep and gentle, flowing slowly in the quiet ward. Qing Ran leaned against him, listening quietly, occasionally letting out small, contented hums.

Outside the window, the sun was setting, and the last rays of golden sunlight streamed through the glass, falling on the two of them and creating a warm and tranquil scene.

Qi Shuo looked down at the obedient Qing Ran in his arms, at the shadows cast by her long eyelashes under her eyes, and at the slightly upturned corners of her mouth. The complex emotions in his heart surged up again.

He can't take off his mask. At least not now.

Because... he was afraid.

He was afraid that if Qingran saw his face, she would be reminded of those terrible memories, she would be scared, she would scream, and she would break down again.

He dared not take that risk.

Therefore, he could only continue to wear this mask, continue to be Ranran's strange older brother, and continue to carefully protect this hard-won peace.

Even though... he longed to show her what a real brother was like.

Even though... he longed to hear her call him "brother" instead of "big brother".

Even though... he desperately wanted to tell her, "Brother is back, and brother will always protect you."

But he couldn't.

At least not now.

Qi Shuo took a deep breath, suppressing the surging emotions within him, and continued to tell the story softly. Qing Ran leaned against him and gradually fell asleep, her breathing even and shallow.

He gently closed the book, carefully placed her back on the bed, and covered her with the blanket. Then, he sat by the bed, quietly watching her sleeping face for a long, long time.

When Qi Shuo returned home, it was completely dark. The living room light was on, and Sister Jin was busy in the kitchen. Hearing the door open, she peeked out and asked, "You're back? Have you eaten?"

"I've already eaten," Qi Shuo replied, his voice sounding somewhat tired. "Sister Jin, I'm going to sleep now."

"Go on, go on." Sister Jin waved her hand. "Get some rest."

Qi Shuo nodded, went into his room, and closed the door. The room wasn't big, but it was very clean. The sheets and blankets were newly changed by Sister Jin and had a faint scent of laundry detergent.

He took off his coat, tossed it onto the chair, then collapsed onto the bed and slowly closed his eyes.

He spent the whole day at the hospital with Qingran. Although he wasn't tired, the heavy weight in his heart made him feel more exhausted than ever before. The kiss through the mask, Qingran's questioning eyes, and her puffed-up cheeks when she was angry... these images played repeatedly in his mind, like a dull knife, cutting into his heart again and again.

It's already October, and the weather is gradually getting cooler.

The autumn breeze blew in through the half-open window, lifting a corner of the curtains.

Qi Shuo did not get up to close the window, letting the cool breeze blow on him, bringing a sense of clarity.

After an unknown amount of time, the door was gently pushed open. Qi Shuo didn't open his eyes, but he knew who it was—the footsteps were very light, carrying a cautious gentleness.

Sister Jin walked to the bedside, sighed softly, then picked up the thin quilt that had been folded at the foot of the bed, unfolded it, and carefully covered him with it. The quilt was light, smelled of sunshine, and was warm, dispelling the chill of the autumn night.

Qi Shuo kept his eyes closed and did not move.

Jin Jie stood by the bed, watched him for a while, then reached out and tucked the blanket around him to make sure he wouldn't catch a cold. Then, she turned around, tiptoed out of the room, and closed the door behind her.

Silence fell over the room once more. Qi Shuo slowly opened his eyes, looked at the ceiling, and sighed softly.

In Sister Jin's eyes, they—he, Xiao Jue, Qin Zhou, and Song Yungui—have always been the children who need to be taken care of.

Even though this child is almost thirty, even though this child has experienced hardships that most people can't imagine, even though this child has learned to shoulder everything alone...

In Sister Jin's eyes, they are still the children who need her concern, care, and warmth.

Just now, even though he's an adult, even though he can cover himself with a blanket, even though he can take care of himself... Sister Jin still quietly came in while he was "asleep" and covered him with a blanket, afraid that he would catch a cold.

This meticulous care stirred up a complex mix of emotions in Qi Shuo's heart.

He was grateful to Sister Jin for giving them a home and for treating them like her own children. But at the same time, he felt a pang of guilt—he had grown up and was independent enough to stop causing Sister Jin worry.

But... Sister Jin never seems to think that they've "grown up." In her eyes, they'll always be the children who need her care.

Qi Shuo forced a bitter smile. He turned over, buried his face in the pillow, and let the warm yet heavy emotions overwhelm him.

The wind was still blowing outside the window, causing the curtains to sway gently and rustle softly. In the distance, the faint sounds of the city could be heard, like the city's breath, steady and long.

Qi Shuo closed his eyes, letting exhaustion and sleepiness pull him into darkness. In the last moment before falling asleep, he remembered Qing Ran's kiss through the mask, Sister Jin's tucking in of the blanket, and... Tan Huaiyu's amber eyes, full of expectation.

These warm yet heavy bonds, like an invisible net, bound him tightly, but also gave him the strength to keep moving forward.

That's settled then.

He thought about it and then fell into a deep sleep.