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Spring has passed and autumn has come; the crabapple blossoms in the courtyard have bloomed and faded. Zhan Nianchen is already two years old.
The little guy had shed his baby fat, grown taller, and his features had become more defined and handsome. He possessed the dashing good looks of Zhan Zhao and the ethereal charm of Xuan Yuan Tianyi, making him a porcelain doll sculpted from jade. He inherited his father's quiet nature, unlike the noisy children of the past, but his pair of dark, glassy eyes always shone with a cleverness, filled with curiosity about everything around him.
On this sunny day, Zhan Zhao, on his day off, held Nian Chen in his arms as they basked in the sun in the courtyard. Nian Chen clutched a cloth tiger in his hand, babbling to himself and occasionally uttering a few indistinct syllables.
"Father...Father..." He looked up at Zhan Zhao with his little face and called out clearly.
Zhan Zhao felt a pang of tenderness in his heart, patted his head, and replied gently, "Yes, Father is here."
Nianchen seemed pleased to receive a response. He played with the cloth tiger for a while longer, then suddenly seemed to remember something. He raised his little head, his dark eyes filled with pure confusion, and asked in a childish voice, "Daddy...Mommy?"
He pronounced those two words unclearly, but they were like an invisible needle, unexpectedly piercing the softest and most painful place in Jin Zhao's heart.
His arms tightened almost imperceptibly around the child for a moment, and the smile on his face froze slightly. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a shadow in his eyes.
How should I answer this?
Tell him that his mother fell asleep while trying to save his father, and that she is in a very, very far place.
Tell him that his mother is the most remarkable woman in the world, and that she cannot be by his side for the time being because she is protecting many people.
Zhan Zhao looked into his son's clear, untainted eyes, filled with the most genuine curiosity and longing for the unfamiliar word "mother." He took a deep breath, suppressing the lump in his throat, and spoke in as calm and gentle a tone as possible:
"Does Nianchen miss his mother?"
The little one nodded vigorously, his little mouth pouting slightly, looking a bit aggrieved: "Where...is Mommy?"
Zhan Zhao pulled him up slightly, letting him lean against his shoulder, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon, towards the direction of Xiaoyao Tower. His voice was soft, as if afraid of disturbing something:
“Mother…she is in a very beautiful and quiet place, where there are many sparkling stars and singing springs. Mother is there to protect Father, Nianchen, and many, many people.”
He paused, feeling the little one in his arms listening quietly, and continued in that slow and gentle tone, "It's just... protecting everyone takes a lot of effort, so Mother is tired and needs to sleep for a very long time. When Nianchen grows up a bit more, becomes more sensible and braver, Mother will wake up and come back to see Nianchen."
He didn't know how much a two-year-old could understand, but he hoped that in Nianchen's young heart, the impression of "mother" would be beautiful and full of hope, rather than separation and sadness.
Nianchen blinked, seemingly understanding but not quite, resting her little head on Zhan Zhao's strong shoulder, and whispered, "Mother... go to sleep... come back..."
“Yes,” Zhan Zhao kissed the top of his soft hair, his voice deep and firm, “Mother will definitely come back. So Nianchen, you must eat well, grow up quickly, and become very strong, so that when Mother comes back, you can protect her, okay?”
"Okay!" Nianchen seemed to be motivated by the phrase "protecting mother," nodding his little head vigorously, clenching his little fists, and showing a serious expression on his face, as if he had accepted an extremely important task.
Seeing his son like this, Zhan Zhao felt a mix of sorrow and relief. He held the child tightly in his arms, feeling the warmth emanating from the small body, which was his greatest motivation to live and persevere.
The following day, Zhan Zhao brought Nian Chen to Xiaoyao Tower again.
The scene inside the cave remained unchanged, as if time had stood still. On the jade bed, Xuanyuan Tianyi slept soundly as always, with the Qilin silently guarding him.
Zhan Zhao placed Nian Chen beside the bed. The little guy seemed quite familiar with the place and wasn't afraid of the enormous Qilin or the cold jade. He crawled to Xuan Yuan Tianyi's side, reached out his little hand, and carefully touched her hand placed at her side.
“Mother…” He looked up at Zhan Zhao, as if to confirm.
"Yes, this is Mother." Zhan Zhao squatted down to look him in the eye. "Mother is sleeping. Let's be quiet and not wake her, okay?"
Nianchen nodded obediently, then lay down by the bed, pressed her little face against Xuanyuan Tianyi's cold hand, and quietly looked at her, making very soft, indistinct babbling sounds, as if she were whispering secrets that only she herself could understand.
Zhan Zhao stood aside, watching this quiet yet sorrowful scene, a sense of tranquil desolation filling his heart.
He knew the wait might be long and uncertain, but at least he and his son were not alone. This sleeping man, and the deep-rooted bond in their blood, were the inextinguishable glimmer of light illuminating their long journey home.
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