Chapter 271 Real and Tangible Efforts
The smiles on their faces were impossible to hide, as if every subtle movement he made was mending the cracks left by that dark period of the past.
The relationship grew tighter day by day.
The atmosphere of alienation and oppression gradually dissipated, replaced by harmony and closeness.
The conversations after dinner became more and more frequent, ranging from the weather to neighborhood gossip and his plans for the future.
They were no longer strangers cautiously exploring each other, but a family truly beginning to share the joys of life.
That afternoon, Qiao Wanyin returned from kindergarten, and the house was unusually quiet.
The door was closed, the lights were off, and the living room was empty; even my mother-in-law, who usually hummed a little tune, was nowhere to be seen.
A lingering aroma of medicinal food wafted in the air—the goji berry chicken soup that had been simmering that morning.
She changed her shoes, walked softly, and felt a quiet warmth welling up inside her.
She tiptoed to the bedroom door and heard soft whispers inside.
The door was slightly ajar, letting in soft light.
She held her breath, only hearing her mother's gentle voice and Fu Li'an's low response.
She didn't push the door open or call out to anyone; she simply stood quietly outside, listening intently.
"Mom, stop working and take a break."
Fu Li'an's voice was soft, yet it carried a rare tenderness and concern.
He helped Song Yazhi sit down and pulled over a small stool to place next to her feet. "You were squatting and wiping the floor for too long, your knees must be sore."
"I'm not tired, Li An. Have you been feeling better these past few days?"
Song Yazhi raised her hand and patted his arm, her gaze as kind as if she were looking at a young child returning home. "Your complexion is much rosier, and you're talking more. I can see it all."
"Hmm... much better. Mom, I'm sorry for making you worry."
He said this with his head down, his tone sincere and heavy.
His indifference towards his family and his resistance to their care during those days now cause him a dull ache in his heart when he thinks back on it.
He knew how many tears his mother had shed and how many nights she had stayed up for him, yet he couldn't even bring himself to say thank you.
"Silly child, why are you apologizing..."
Song Yazhi's eyes welled up with tears again, and she quickly wiped them with the back of her hand. "You are my son. If I don't love you, who will I love? As long as you are healthy, that's more important than anything else."
Qiao Wanyin stood outside the door, neither moving nor making a sound.
She leaned against the wall, hugged her arms tightly, and her chest heaved slightly.
She didn't realize she was crying, and just let the warm liquid slide down her cheeks.
The scene wasn't spectacular, but it was touching enough—a mother's whispers to her adopted son, their bond stronger than blood.
Warmth, little by little, welled up from the bottom of my heart and spread throughout my chest.
It felt like the first rays of spring sunshine shining on a frozen lake, slowly melting away all hardness and barriers.
She suddenly realized that a real home is not a house made of bricks and tiles, but a place where someone is willing to wait for you, speak softly to you, and give everything for you silently.
She quietly stepped aside, not wanting to disturb them.
She turned around gently, tiptoed away, and didn't even dare to breathe loudly.
She wanted this moment to stay forever in that warm room, undisturbed by anyone.
She went into the kitchen, silently boiled a kettle of water, and made a cup of hot tea, preparing to bring it in later.
At dinner, Fu Lian ate two bowls of rice, which was unusual for him, and even praised Song Yazhi, saying, "Mom, your cooking is really delicious."
He held his rice bowl, eating earnestly, with beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.
As soon as the second bowl was filled, he picked up a piece of green vegetable with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. After chewing it carefully, he nodded in praise, "This dish is cooked just right, not greasy or raw."
His tone was natural, as if he had long been accustomed to the taste of this place.
Song Yazhi smiled so hard her eyes narrowed into slits: "If you like it, take as much as you want! Wanyin, don't just look at it, this is for two people now."
As she spoke, she reached for more rice for him, but her hand was gently pressed down by Fu Li'an.
"That's enough, Mom, I can do it myself."
He smiled and said, his eyes bright, revealing a long-lost sense of ease.
Qiao Wanyin nodded and also put a piece of meat on her mother-in-law's plate: "Mom, you should eat too. Don't just take care of us."
She put the meat into her mother's bowl and added some vegetables, saying, "You've worked hard today, eat more to nourish yourself."
The family sat around the table, the lamplight warm and yellow, the food steaming, and laughter filling the air—just like the most heartwarming scene in her memory.
Seeing the mother and daughter chatting and laughing, Fu Li'an finally felt a weight lift from his heart.
He had thought that faking his illness would only bring temporary peace, but he never expected to gain such deep family affection.
He lowered his head, ate a mouthful of rice, and a subtle smile appeared on his lips.
It turns out that the feeling of being needed and treated sincerely is so reassuring and wonderful.
He faked being sick; it was worth it.
Even if the truth comes out in the future, he will have no regrets.
Because of this time, he gained the warmth he had once missed, and a "home" in the truest sense of the word.
Before going to sleep, Qiao Wanyin suddenly spoke up: "Li An, I want to discuss something with you."
She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded on her knees, her expression earnest and gentle.
Only a small nightlight was on in the room, casting a soft glow on her profile.
She looked at him, a hint of expectation in her eyes, mixed with a touch of shyness. "About our future life... I want to plan it out carefully."
"Um?"
"After the baby is born, let Mom help take care of it."
Her voice was soft, her tone like a spring breeze brushing past your ear, carrying a touch of warmth and firmness. "She is experienced and meticulous in her work, never careless from morning till night. The key thing is... she genuinely cares about you, and I can tell that."
Fu Li'an's heart trembled, as if he had been gently bumped by something invisible, making his heart numb.
She truly considers her mother one of her own—not just superficial politeness, but genuine acceptance and trust from the bottom of her heart.
"you……
"Aren't you bothered anymore?"
He asked cautiously, his voice slightly tense, afraid that if he misspoke a single word, he would shatter this hard-won warmth.
Qiao Wanyin didn't answer immediately. She frowned slightly, her gaze falling on the curtains fluttering outside the window. She remained silent for a few seconds, as if sorting out the complex emotions in her heart.
"To say I don't mind would be a lie."
She finally spoke, her tone frank and sincere, “I did have some reservations about what happened in the past. Fang Wanyu had been pretending for so many years, and I was almost kept in the dark. But these days, I have seen with my own eyes her making soup and cooking for you every day, staying up all night, and even sitting by your bed at three in the morning to change your towels… Those weren’t faked; they were real sacrifices.”
She slowly turned her head, looking directly into his eyes, her gaze clear and firm: "Also, I've discovered that Mom is actually a very warm person. She doesn't like to say pretty words, nor is she good at expressing herself, but her care is hidden in the details. It's just that she was deceived too deeply by Fang Wanyu before, and that's why her attitude towards us changed."
Upon hearing this, Fu Li'an felt a surge of warmth in his heart, and his eyes instantly welled up with tears.
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