Shen Yan's face was buried in the quilt, and the breath he exhaled sprayed onto his face again, making his complexion even more flushed.
He heard Meng Qingluan blow out the candle.
She was so nervous that she gripped the blanket tightly and wouldn't let go.
After a long while, the person behind him remained motionless.
Shen Yan was somewhat curious; he had clearly heard the sound of Meng Qingluan's feet walking on the floor.
"Get up."
Suddenly, he felt a gentle pat on the shoulder.
Shen Yan braced himself on the bed with both hands, got up and turned his head, suddenly facing a little lamb.
He was startled and jumped back.
The lamb pulled away from him, revealing Meng Qingluan's face standing behind him.
Similarly, the scene inside the house came into full view of him.
The candles in the room were lit, twenty in total, illuminating the entire room brightly, as if one were under the bright daylight sky, with no obstruction.
Meng Qingluan held a round object in her hands, on which was placed a lifelike little lamb, and it smelled of sweet, milky milk. She smiled and said.
Happy Lunar New Year's Eve! And also, happy birthday to our Shen Yan!
Shen Yan's eyes were bright and glistening with tears as he asked in disbelief.
"Luanluan...how did you know it was my birthday today?"
Meng Qingluan smiled.
"Is it difficult to know your birth date? I saw your birth date and time written down at Baoxiang Temple that day."
Shen Yan's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Before he could utter the "thank you," a sob welled up and swallowed everything. He turned around in a fluster.
Seeing him like this, Meng Qingluan placed the simplified version of the cake in her hand on the bedside table.
She sat on the bed, leaned against him, and spoke softly.
"Birthday boy/girl, we still have gifts to open."
"Um……"
Shen Yan bit her tongue, her eyes red-rimmed as she turned away.
He sat obediently and properly on the edge of the bed, his hands on his thighs, his eyes bright.
Meng Qingluan took out a book of moderate thickness, held one end herself, and handed the other end to Chen Yan.
Then, she pulled herself back by one end of the book.
The book was opened.
This is a book that Meng Qingluan made herself. It has only twenty pages, but each page is covered with letters. The black characters on the white paper are densely written and cover the floor of the room.
Shen Yan started reading from the first page closest to him.
The first letter sent to Shen Yan.
—Tonight is the Little New Year, and besides this joyous occasion, there's an even more important event! A little boy named Shen Yan was born on this day…
The world's best little lucky star has appeared.
The second letter.
The second letter sent to Shen Yan.
Today, Shen Yan is two years old. Has he learned to walk yet? Is he still hiding in his mother's arms, crying with his bare bottom showing? Shen Yan must be very happy today, because this is his first birthday with his parents.
The third, the fourth…
The fifth letter.
The fifth letter sent to Shen Yan.
—Chen Yan is five years old now. You might be sad today. Little birthday star, you don't have to force a smile today. You can be willful, you can cry, you can make a fuss and ask for your mother. You don't need to hold back your tears and pretend to be a little adult.
Five-year-old Shen Yan, don't let sadness hold you back. Nineteen-year-old Shen Yan, Meng Qingluan will be there for you. Hang in there a little longer, okay?
The sixth letter, the seventh letter, the eighth letter... all the way up to the twentieth letter.
The twentieth letter sent to Shen Yan.
—Shen Yan, I don't want to tell you anything else, I just want to tell you…
Happy birthday, Chen Yan!
I'm so grateful to have met such a wonderful and lovely Shen Yan! You're already over twenty! In a few decades, you'll be a little old man with gray hair, and maybe even ugly!
Just kidding, even if our Shen Yan turns into a pile of bones, he'll still be the most beautiful little lucky star in my heart.
Shen Yan, I like you, and I love you too.
Sometimes I wonder, if I had appeared sooner, would you have had a better life? I wish I could turn back time, so I could hide with you, and no one would ever find us, and all the suffering would never happen again.
I know that's all unrealistic; I don't have the ability to go back in time and erase your scars.
So, little birthday star, I wish you happiness every day from now on.
Whether you are thirty, forty, fifty, sixty... or one hundred years old, you should never experience pain again.
Even if I'm not by your side in the future, reading this letter will feel like seeing you in person.
Please stay happy.
—Meng Qingluan
Shen Yan had already lost control of his tears when he saw the first letter. Later, he could only gasp for breath and let out weak, low sobs.
Afraid that his tears would blur his writing, he quickly stepped back and wiped away his tears with his sleeve.
Seeing him cry, Meng Qingluan felt bad too, realizing that her departure was imminent.
So, to celebrate his birthday, she took the opportunity to write him letters from one to twenty years old.
She knew she absolutely couldn't cry now, otherwise it would only make him more upset.
Meng Qingluan walked forward casually and comforted her with a smile.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying? Are you crying because my handwriting is ugly? I wrote this myself and practiced for a long time."
As Meng Qingluan spoke, she raised her hand to show him the calluses on her fingers.
What she said was indeed correct.
She was afraid that Chen Yan wouldn't be able to understand simplified Chinese characters, so she bought a dictionary. There were many traditional Chinese characters she didn't recognize, so she would look up the dictionary and copy them down one by one whenever she had to write a character.
Although she became much more proficient later on, she still inevitably developed calluses on her fingers.
Shen Yan noticed the calluses covering her palms.
Meng Qingluan's fingers already had calluses and frostbite, so they weren't very pretty.
After moving to the capital, I was initially well taken care of, but the long hours spent writing calligraphy with a brush have given me a new layer of calluses.
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