"Dad, is Mom still angry?" Nian'an nestled on Shen Tingzhou's shoulder, nuzzling his clothes with her little head, her voice soft.
Shen Tingzhou's body stiffened, his throat tightened, and he couldn't speak for a long time. He gently patted Nian'an's back, his voice hoarse: "It's your father's fault for making your mother angry."
"What did Father do wrong?" Nian'an looked up at Shen Tingzhou with her dark, grape-like eyes full of confusion. "Did Father not help Mother chop wood yesterday? Or did Mother find out Father was secretly smoking?"
Looking into the child's innocent eyes, Shen Tingzhou felt even worse. How could he tell the child that his "sacrifice" back then was fake, that he had kept it from them for two years, causing them so much suffering? He could only shake his head and force a smile: "It's Dad's fault for not speaking properly to your mother."
Nian'an nodded as if he understood, his little arms tightly wrapped around Shen Tingzhou's neck: "Dad, can you apologize to Mom? Mom cried yesterday, I've never seen Mom cry so hard." He felt sad when he thought of his mother's crying last night. "Mom said that when I was little, I had a high fever, and she carried me and ran in the snow. Where was Dad then?"
These words were like a needle, piercing Shen Tingzhou's heart. He tightened his grip on Nian'an's arm, his eyes instantly reddening. He lowered his head, his forehead touching Nian'an's, his voice choked with emotion: "Back then, your father was far away, doing something very important, and couldn't be by your and your mother's side. It's all my fault, making you suffer."
Nian'an could feel his father's tears dripping onto his face, cool to the touch. He reached out his little hand and gently wiped Shen Tingzhou's face, whispering, "Dad, don't cry, Nian'an doesn't blame you. As long as Dad doesn't leave me and Mom in the future, I won't be angry."
Shen Tingzhou felt a warmth spread through his heart, a bittersweet sensation. He held Nian'an in his arms, sat down on the old wooden bed, and gently stroked the child's hair: "Father will never leave you again, never again."
Nian'an smiled, revealing two shallow dimples on his little face, like newly blooming flowers in spring: "Then Daddy, shall we go and cook corn porridge for Mommy? Mommy must be hungry. I also know that Mommy likes to add a spoonful of white sugar to the porridge, I'll go get the sugar." As he spoke, he was about to get down from Shen Tingzhou's arms.
Shen Tingzhou pulled him back and said with a smile, "Okay, let's go make porridge together. But Mom has to add the sugar, Mom's sugar is the sweetest."
Nian'an nodded, her little hand tightly gripping Shen Tingzhou's. Shen Tingzhou led the child out of the west room. The sun had risen higher, casting dappled shadows on the old locust tree in the courtyard. The wind had died down, and the air carried a crisp autumn air.
When they reached the kitchen door, Shen Tingzhou saw Lin Wanqiu still sitting on a small stool with her back to them, the firewood still in her hands. He took a deep breath, pulled Nian'an over, and said in a gentle voice, "Wanqiu, Nian'an and I will cook some porridge."
Lin Wanqiu stiffened for a moment, but didn't turn around. Nian'an quickly ran over, hugged Lin Wanqiu's arm, and looked up at her with her little face, saying, "Mom, Dad knows he was wrong, he apologized to you. Shall we cook porridge together? I still want to eat the porridge you cook, with sugar."
Lin Wanqiu lowered her head and looked into the child's innocent eyes. Her anger subsided as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over it. Seeing that Nian'an was barefoot, she quickly picked him up and placed him on her lap, saying with heartache, "Why aren't you wearing shoes? Your feet are freezing."
Nian'an smiled and said, "I was talking to Dad in the west room and forgot to put on my shoes. Mom, don't be angry. Dad said he will never leave us again."
Lin Wanqiu's gaze fell on Shen Tingzhou. He stood there, still holding Nian'an's little shoes in his hand, his eyes full of guilt and tenderness, like a child who had done something wrong. She remembered what he had said last night, and the hardships of those years, and her heart still ached a little. But looking at Nian'an's expectant eyes, she felt that the resentment didn't seem so important anymore.
Shen Tingzhou walked over, placed the little shoes by the kang (a heated brick bed), then picked up the pot on the stove and added water: "I'll start the fire, you sit and rest for a while." He squatted by the stove, lit the firewood, and the firelight shone on his face, making him feel warm and cozy.
Lin Wanqiu watched his retreating figure, then looked at Nian'an in her arms. Her heart felt heavy, a mixture of sorrow and tenderness. She knew that Shen Tingzhou's concealment was for the mission, to protect her and their child, but the suffering they had endured, the days of deception, couldn't be erased with a simple "I'm sorry." Yet, she also knew she couldn't live in the resentment of the past forever. For Nian'an, for this family, she had to give them both a chance.
Nian'an nestled in Lin Wanqiu's arms, watching her father tending the fire by the stove, then looked at her mother's face and whispered, "Mom, look, Dad looks so handsome tending the fire."
Lin Wanqiu couldn't help but laugh, reaching out to gently pinch Nian'an's little face: "You're so good with words." She raised her head and looked at Shen Tingzhou, her voice still a little cold, but without the aloofness of last night: "The water's boiling, bring the cornmeal over."
Shen Tingzhou was overjoyed and quickly stood up, scooping cornmeal from the grain jar and handing it to Lin Wanqiu. Sunlight streamed in through the small window of the kitchen, warming the three of them. The water in the pot bubbled and gurgled, like a song, and the aroma of cornmeal porridge gradually filled the air.
Nian'an nestled on Lin Wanqiu's shoulder, watching his mother sprinkle cornmeal into the pot and his father help stir it, his little face beaming with smiles. He knew that his mother wasn't angry anymore, and his father wouldn't leave; their family would never be separated again.
Shen Tingzhou looked at Lin Wanqiu's profile, watching her intently stirring the paste, and his heart was filled with gratitude. He knew he owed her and Nian'an so much, and he would spend the rest of his life making up for it, never letting them suffer any more injustice.
The corn porridge in the pot was ready, and it smelled delicious. Lin Wanqiu scooped a bowl and handed it to Shen Tingzhou: "Try it first, and see if it's sweet enough."
Shen Tingzhou took the bowl, blew on it, and took a small sip. The aroma of corn spread in his mouth, with a slightly sweet taste, just like his mood at that moment. He looked at Lin Wanqiu and said with a smile, "Sweet, sweeter than anything else."
Lin Wanqiu rolled her eyes at him, but didn't get angry anymore. Nian'an clapped her hands and laughed beside her, "Mom's porridge is the sweetest! I want some too!"
Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the family's faces with warmth and brightness. A breeze blew in from the yard, carrying the fragrance of the old locust tree; everything was so beautiful. Shen Tingzhou knew that the cold war that had begun because of deception was finally over. And their lives, like this bowl of corn porridge, would grow sweeter and warmer with each passing day.
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