Challenges and Growth

On November 11, 2015, Xiaofeng was holding Lucas and playing with Oscar in his stroller, while Wenqing busied himself preparing lunch at the counter. The doorbell rang suddenly, and Wenqing washed his hands and went to open the door. As soon as the door opened a crack, a hook punch slammed into his face. He stumbled to the side, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. The attacker then grabbed him by the collar and punched him repeatedly in the head and face, with such force and speed that he had no time to fight back.

Xiaofeng was terrified by the sudden scene, thinking it was a robber. She held Lucas tightly in one hand and pushed the stroller with the other, trying to hide in the room. But the man grabbed her wrist with such force that it almost broke her bones.

Wen Qing came to his senses, rushed over with red eyes, grabbed the man's collar on the back and was about to punch him back, but was stopped by Zhou Yong who shouted "He is Xiaofeng's father", and his fist froze in mid-air.

Zhou Yong followed him into the house, which was a mess. Xiaofeng was already paralyzed on the floor, her body trembling with fear. Lucas in her arms was crying heartbreakingly, and Oscar in the stroller also burst into tears. The whole room was filled with the children's crying, making it suffocating.

Wenqing lowered his fist and hurriedly carried Lucas into the stroller. He ignored the child's crying and reached out to pull Xiaofeng up through her armpits, but Rao Haiyi held his arm and said coldly, "Don't touch her."

"You scared the child." Zhou Yong pried Rao Haiyi's hands apart and advised in a deep voice.

Xiaofeng was helped to a seat on the dining chair. She looked at the man before her—around fifty, not tall. His large, light brown eyes, like her own, held so many stories, like dusty glass. "Dad..." she called out tentatively, her voice so soft it sounded like a sigh.

"Xiaofeng, are you okay?" Rao Haiyi's eyes gradually changed from initial anger to tenderness, and her voice softened.

Xiaofeng kept shaking her head like a lost child, tears falling silently.

Rao Haiyi took a step forward, held her in his arms, and gently stroked her hair. His movements were so natural that it seemed as if they had never been apart - just like the countless times her father would hold her when she was wronged before she was seven years old.

The children's crying gradually subsided, probably because they were tired. Wenqing and Xiaofeng tacitly changed their diapers and fed them. The two little ones soon fell into a deep sleep.

The four of them sat at the dining table, the air frozen in time, no one saying anything. Finally, it was Rao Haiyi who spoke, her gaze fixed on Xiaofeng's face: "Xiaofeng, come with Daddy, okay?"

Wenqing's heart instantly rose to his throat, and he stared at Xiaofeng nervously, afraid to hear the answer he dreaded most from her. But the moment Xiaofeng nodded gently, the glimmer of hope in his heart was completely punctured, shattered to pieces without a trace.

Zhou Yong helped Xiaofeng expedite the application for a Schengen visa, which was successfully issued within five working days.

Zhou Yong was carrying Xiaofeng's luggage, while Rao Haiyi and Xiaofeng each held a child. When they reached the door and were about to close it, Wenqing's hoarse voice came from behind them, filled with endless regret - "Xiaofeng, I'm sorry."

The door closed with a click, leaving behind the apology and the home that once carried all her joys and sorrows.

On November 25, 2015, the air was filled with the faint aroma of cream, mingled with the sweet warmth of melting butter in the oven. Zhou Yong and Rao Haiyi were busy in the kitchen, preparing a birthday cake for Xiaofeng. The rising winter sun streamed in, casting their overlapping shadows on the wall, like a blurred ink painting, concealing an inexplicable complexity of emotions.

"I have to go back tomorrow," Zhou Yong said in a low voice, his fingers unconsciously stroking the stainless steel egg beater. "I've been out for too long, and I have a lot of things piled up."

Rao Haiyi nodded, her eyes glued to the whipped cream, which was being stirred into a fine foam. "Don't worry, Xiaofeng is here with me. I will take good care of her and the children."

"Of course I believe you."

Rao Haiyi stopped and looked up at him with a hint of regret in her eyes: "I should thank you for taking care of them and their daughter for so many years."

Zhou Yong's hand trembled slightly, and the whisk struck the bowl with a soft ding. "That's all I can do," he said, his voice soft as a sigh.

Rao Haiyi sighed and picked up a little butter between her fingertips. "After Wenjing left, Xiaofeng had a hard time. Ultimately, it's all my fault."

"Look at the future, she's still young." Zhou Yong tried to persuade her, but his tone was helpless. "Are you going to tell her about our past, and your affairs?"

"She's still caught up in her own emotions," Rao Haiyi said softly after a moment of silence, "One day she'll ask."

"So what are you going to say?"

"Tell me the truth." Rao Haiyi raised her eyes, her expression calm. "What do you think?"

"The truth is best." Zhou Yong nodded, his tone serious. "After going through all this, trust has long been shattered. I can't lie to her or hide anything from her anymore."

"Will she understand?" A hint of uncertainty flashed across Rao Haiyi's voice.

Zhou Yong nodded slowly: "If she understands love, she will definitely understand."

"Tell me, what does Xiaofeng like?"

Zhou Yong smiled, with fine lines forming at the corners of his eyes. "Is she your girl, or mine?"

"Is there a difference?"

Zhou Yong's heart skipped a beat, and then he raised the corner of his mouth. "She likes racing motorcycles," he raised his chin towards Rao Haiyi, his eyes gleaming with pride, "and she's very talented."

Rao Haiyi looked out the window, imagining Xiaofeng speeding on the track, without saying a word.

Zhou Yong continued, "She's participated in three tours, won two and finished second once. Impressive, isn't she?"

"You are even prouder than me." Rao Haiyi teased.

"Of course, she is my girl too." Zhou Yong smiled frankly.

"You really understand love."

Xiaofeng, who was napping with the children, opened her eyes to the sound of Lucas's babbling. As usual, she mechanically repeated the parenting routine: her wrist trembled uncontrollably as she adjusted the water temperature—a muscle injury from carrying a child alone; she counted the beats while burping, her mind wandering far away; and as she bent to pick up a diaper, a fine layer of sweat broke out on her forehead, and a familiar soreness tingled in her lower back.

When Zhou Yong walked in, holding a cake with a candle numbered "23" on it, and the candlelight flickered beneath his eyes, Xiaofeng froze in her tracks. Her heart suddenly felt warm, her nose ached, and tears nearly fell.

"I'm grateful for everything," she sniffed, her voice hoarse, "After sixteen years, I can still find my father. If only my mother were still here..."

Rao Haiyi patted her back, her palm warm: "Look forward, it will get better slowly."

Zhou Yong also nodded, his tone firm: "Just live here peacefully. No matter what decisions you make in the future, Uncle Zhou and your father will stand by you and support you forever."

Xiao Feng nodded vigorously, her eyes red: "I am so happy."

At night, after the children fell asleep, Xiaofeng took Rao Haiyi and Zhou Yong to the yard, where there were wine bottles and glasses on the table.

"Dad, Uncle Zhou, are you two..." Xiaofeng pointed his fingers back and forth between the two of them, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"No, no," "No, no," the two hurriedly waved their hands and denied it in unison.

"Actually, I understand," Xiao Feng said with a sly smile, "Heterosexual love carries the obligation to reproduce; homosexual love is pure love."

Zhou Yongxian got anxious: "I don't like men."

Rao Haiyi was calm: "My lover is not him."

Xiao Feng's eyes widened and rolled around, then a sudden thought struck him: "It's Uncle Da Zhou!"

Rao Haiyi and Zhou Yong were both stunned, their faces filled with disbelief: "How did you come up with that?"

"Feeling!" Xiaofeng's face was filled with a mischievous expression of "I saw through it a long time ago." Then he restrained his smile and asked softly, "Dad, what about Mom? Do you love her?"

"What do you think?" Rao Haiyi asked back.

"I feel it's love," Xiaofeng looked at the street lights in the distance, recalling the vague past, "and mom depends on you a lot."

"Your feelings are very accurate." Rao Haiyi's voice became heavy, and she fell into memories. "I love her, but there are some things I can't give her after all."

All three of them fell silent. Xiaofeng's thoughts drifted far away: she could feel Wenqing's love and care, but there was something he couldn't give her... That night, keywords suddenly flashed in the search bar—"same-sex marriage," "sexless marriage," "gay wife"...

"Bang--"

The crisp sound of shattering glass pierced the night sky. Xiaofeng flipped the dining table, sending the wine glass crashing to the floor, scattering shards everywhere. She knelt on one knee, grabbed a sharp piece of glass, and pointed it at Rao Haiyi viciously: "Why did you mess with my mother? Why did you give birth to me?!"

"Xiaofeng, calm down!" Zhou Yong hurried forward, made a soothing gesture, and spoke in a tense voice.

She squatted down with a thud and burst into tears, her voice filled with despair: "I have the same fate as my mother! Wenqing has never touched me. It turns out...it turns out he's using marriage to hide his sexual orientation!"

"It's all your fault!" She pointed at Rao Haiyi and yelled, then stood up suddenly and ran back into the house like an angry rabbit.

Despite his deep concerns, Zhou Yong still had to leave Florence. As he turned around with his suitcase, he glanced back at the lighted window and sighed softly.

The next day, Rao Haiyi prepared breakfast and walked into the living room. Xiaofeng was giving Oscar a massage, his chubby legs kicking vigorously. Rao Haiyi imitated her, gently pinching Lucas's feet, and he giggled.

"Xiaofeng," he said softly, "it's all my fault. I don't ask for your forgiveness, I just hope you won't hurt yourself or give up on yourself. You deserve all the love I can give you, and Daddy wants to make it up to him now, and I'll do my best to make it up to him." He lowered his head and rubbed Lucas's little face with his chin, "Call me grandpa..."

Xiao Feng was silent for a moment, then said softly, "Dad, tell me your story."

"Okay." Rao Haiyi responded, reaching out to tuck the hair scattered on her cheeks behind her ears, her movements as gentle as if she were treating a fragile treasure.