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Shen Yuan felt sluggish. He didn't want to go to sleep, but his eyes were heavy. A gentle hand patted the top of his head.
"You can sleep, A Yuan. Grandma will wake you up when we arrive," Grandma Shen smiled.
Shen Yuan shook his head. The road wasn’t bumpy and their family was pretty comfortable to lay on but he had more than enough sleep at the hospital.
(At one point he feared if he were to go to sleep, he would never wake up again.)
"Do you want to play games with me, A Yuan?" His second brother asked.
Shen Yuan nodded and scooter closer to his brother. He leaned his head against his brother's shoulder to watch the game on the handheld console. As much as he wanted to play, his arms had been pricked with so many needles for the past few days, that moving around would be painful. The site where the cannula was once attached was still bruised and slightly throbbing.
Mama Shen remained silent throughout the ride back home. She didn't object to Shen Yuan and his brother playing games, even though she used to nag at them for playing games instead of studying or practicing piano. Shen Yuan couldn't even breathe without Mama Shen asking about their grades every single time before.
Shen Yuan supposed she didn't care anymore, now that her son truly had no future to worry about.
He knew his family was trying to hide it from him, thinking a nine-year-old was too young to understand everything. However, Shen Yuan overheard the doctor's conversation with his parents while feigning sleep. It also didn't take much to figure out that his condition wasn't improving, after the fifth hospitalization.
He could live to be fifteen, if he was lucky enough. That meant six more years of suffering, though.
The last few months were terrible. He couldn't stomach most food without puking. Whatever little amount he could eat wasn't enough, so he was forced to down some bitter-tasting milk and protein powder. As if the medicines weren't enough, his mother bought a bunch of supplements in hopes that anything could work the miracle. She stopped after a back-and-forth screaming match with Papa Shen.
Now she seemed to have finally accepted it. No, giving up might be more accurate to describe it. She was no longer holding Shen Yuan's hand and telling him that everything was fine. She wasn't forcing Shen Yuan to take those supplements either.
"San-gege doesn't have to go to hospital again, right?" His five-year-old sister asked.
Grandma Shen shook his head. "No dear, at least not in the nearest time."
"San-gege is healthy now? Good, I don't like the smell of that place."
The earlier he dies, the better. Then maybe his sister wouldn't be old enough to remember him. One less person grieving.
"We're home," Mama Shen calmly said and unbuckled her seat belt. "Children, go wash up. I will have Housekeeper Auntie prepare dinner for us."
Grandma Shen held Shen Yuan's hand all the way to his bedroom. Gosh, it felt like he hadn't been here forever. Hm, one volume of One Piece was missing. Must be Er-ge, that jerk stealing it from his bookshelf.
Dinner was a fairly quiet affair. Papa Shen didn't ask Mama Shen much about their trip back. Mama Shen only talked about Da-ge's recent win in the judo championship. Shen Yuan's oldest brother was truly the pride of the family. Smart, good-looking, and athletic. He had a good temperament too.
They wouldn't lose anything, even when he's gone.
He managed to eat half of his dinner. Mama Shen placed a cup of the special formula milk in front of him. "Drink."
Shen Yuan grimaced. "... I ate."
"You ate so little."
"It doesn't taste good."
"How many times are you going to complain?!" She snapped.
It was the first time since Shen Yuan could remember that Mama Shen raised her voice. The dinner table went silent and Mama Shen fell quiet. Regret was evident in her face.
Shen Yuan obediently picked up the cup.
He returned to his room shortly after dinner and vomited out everything.
The bitter taste of bile mixed with the horrible protein powder stayed in his throat. Tears began streaming down his eyes and he sobbed.
Mama Shen used to get mad at him for playing too many video games, or for skipping piano lessons. It felt not too long ago that she would rub soothing circles on his back, buy sippy cups with his favorite cartoon designs, and hold his hand to support him - just to get him to eat and drink. Now she was yelling at him for not taking that stupid milk.
She already gave up on his future. Why was Shen Yuan still getting scolded?
The sound of footsteps approaching his bedroom grew closer. Shen Yuan did his best to rinse his mouth and wash his face.
Grandma Shen came in with a cup of pudding.
"It's sweet, don't worry," she assured him. "Come sit, A Yuan. Don't worry about your mother. Grandma will scold her. How can she talk like that to my little sweet bun?"
Pudding wasn't something he could eat often but a small cup should be fine. Shen Yuan grinned and relished at the sweet taste of pudding in his mouth.
"Your mother was tired. Next time Grandma will make the milk for you, it won't be as bitter, okay?" Grandma Shen said and pinched his cheek.
Shen Yuan somewhat understood that. He still didn't get why his mother being tired should warrant him getting scolded, but as long as Grandma Shen was here, he would feel better. "Will you stay here forever, Grandma?"
Grandma Shen chuckled. "I will stay until A Yuan gets better."
Forever, then. Because Shen Yuan would never get better.
"I have to teach Grandma how to play games. It gets boring when Da-ge and Er-ge have school. Meimei sucks at games," Shen Yuan pouted.
"I'm afraid your grandmother is too old for games," Grandma Shen laughed. "I can give you something better, though."
"Something better?"
Grandma Shen took out a leather-covered book and a fountain pen from her bag. Judging from the appearance alone, both the book and the pen could be as old as his grandmother.
"Whenever you feel upset, you can write down all your feelings here," Grandma Shen said. "I used to do that when I was a little girl, just around your age. It feels like having a friend who would listen and not complain."
Eh… Shen Yuan wasn't sure about that. He could just vent to his siblings…oh wait, they wouldn't be quiet, he supposed. The last time he told Er-ge about the crush he had on the girl in the neighboring class, it became the topic of every family reunion and Shen Yuan suffered the humiliation of a lifetime.
"This pen is a gift from my father, back when he first traveled to Europe. That was many, many years ago. Make sure you take good care of it, okay? Grandma didn't give your brothers anything like these, they might get jealous," Grandma Shen whispered and winked.
It felt good knowing he was his grandmother's favorite, at least.
The entire night Shen Yuan slept holding the diary in his thin arms. He wasn't sure what to write yet, so he simply held it to sleep.
The following morning he woke up late. His parents had gone to work and his siblings were all at school. Shen Yuan finally decided to make his first diary entry.
He wrote about his mundane days. Just the boredom from not being able to attend class anymore and play with his friends. His mother had switched him to homeschooling but the hired tutor didn't really do much other than giving Shen Yuan some assignments to be completed. He could tell the tutor probably didn't know what to do with him either.
He wasn't going to take any special exams. He wasn't aiming for elite schools, or any school. It was just for the sake of ‘normalcy’ and filling his time, if he guessed it right.
"... Who am I going to use that poem for?" Shen Yuan sighed as he continued writing. With English, he could at least expand his reading collection and watchlist to foreign works. History? Fine arts? What use would he have with those things?
"A Yuan, it's time for dinner!" His second brother called from outside his room.
Shen Yuan slipped the diary back into his drawer and went to join his family for dinner.
His mother was in a better mood that day. Grandma Shen made his special formula milk as promised and she prepared a small platter of sweet pureed fruit to reward him for finishing his milk. Mama Shen wasn't fond of it but decided to keep silent when she noticed the milk and fruit settling fine in Shen Yuan's stomach.
Shen Yuan rubbed his tummy happily when he returned to his room. At least that was one good thing happening today. He took out his diary to write about Grandma Shen.
Shen Yuan froze.
There was a reply.
Characters, beautifully written, right next to his diary entry.
By someone he didn't know.
Dear A Yuan,
Mastering fine arts is a necessity if you want to grow up to be a gentleman. When you’re learning to paint, do not compare yourself to the master, lest you will lose your spirit. Look around you and paint whatever gives you joy. Even if it’s just a single moment, it will be immortalized in your work.
Shen Yuan stared at the mystery message long and hard. Was this a prank from his grandmother? But Grandma Shen was with him the entire time earlier. When Shen Yuan left for dinner, the page was still empty. All of his family members were at the dinner table. There was no way for any of them to be able to write this beautifully anyway, Shen Yuan could recognize his family’s handwriting pretty well.
Shen Yuan bit his lower lip. He wasn’t one to believe in supernatural things.
How cool would it be though, if he actually had a guardian spirit watching over him and replying to his diary entry? Maybe this was the spirit of his ancestors, who pitied his fate. Shen Yuan picked up his pen and wrote.
‘Who are you?’
There was no reply for the entire night.
For the following days, Shen Yuan decided to conduct his own little experiments. He discovered that writing directly asking for answers would not yield any result. The mystery ghost would only reply to his usual diary entries.
Hence Shen Yuan began filling up his diary as usual, albeit with more anticipation for his ghost friend. Perhaps he should refer to his penpal as Lord Ancestor, the way they wrote certainly felt like someone who came right out from the historical dramas he and Grandma Shen liked to watch.
Lord Ancestor wrote about the need to master the four arts in order to be a fine gentleman. He mentioned playing weiqi, calligraphy, and practicing martial arts. He didn't seem to understand when Shen Yuan wrote about basketball and video games. Lord Ancestor was definitely someone from another era.
Shen Yuan didn't tell his family about Lord Ancestor of course. It was his precious little secret. None of them seemed to suspect anything anyway, they were content living their own life as usual.
Dear Diary,
Is it mean for me to wish my brothers would be more upset to lose me? I know I shouldn't feel this way. They should live however they want. My mother shouldn't be blamed whenever I don't want to eat.
I want them to miss me, but I also don't want them to be sad when I'm gone. I want them to forget me but I also don't want to be forgotten.
If I could live long enough to see the ending of Detective Conan, that would be nice too.
I'm not even dead yet, why do they pretend like I already am?
A Yuan.
The artifact Shen Qingqiu found in his last mission didn't look like anything unique. It was just a normal book with empty pages, except that there was a strange spiritual energy of unknown nature emanating from it. Intrigued, Shen Qingqiu brought it home and left it on his desk to analyze it later.
Then writings began to appear in the book. The characters were unlike anything Shen Qingqiu had ever seen. They were sloppily written like a child's, but the strokes were thin, unlikely to be made using any brush that he was familiar with.
Shen Qingqiu brought the book to the sect meeting but none of his martial siblings had ever encountered anything like it. Ku Xing Peak confirmed there was no malicious energy from the book. Yue Qingyuan ordered his head disciple to help Qing Jing Peak comb through all their old records.
"In the meantime, why don't you try writing back, Qingqiu Shidi? See if the spirit might write again," Yue Qingyuan suggested.
Shen Qingqiu wrote back.
The spirit continued writing, as Yue Qingyuan predicted. From his writings, Shen Qingqiu was able to make good guesses about the origin of the spirit.
It was the spirit of a young boy named A Yuan, and he likely came either from a different time or a different realm. That would explain why the characters seemed to have been written with a medium Shen Qingqiu had never seen before.
A Yuan was also terribly sick. Mu Qingfang theorized that someone wandering between the realms of life and death could explain why his writing was able to reach them.
Shen Qingqiu wasn't sure how true it could be. Records found from one of his predecessor's encyclopedia of magical artifacts mentioned several items that could function as medium between different times and parallel universes, such as the demon sword Xin Mo. There was nothing to indicate that such items required anyone to be at the verge of their death.
A Yuan was a fairly excitable child, it was hard to imagine him in that kind of condition. He wrote in great detail about his siblings and the games they played. Throughout the several weeks they had been communicating, Shen Qingqiu already learned about A Yuan's favorite TV shows (whatever that thing called TV was), his sister's bad sleeping habits, and his brother's secret love letters that A Yuan discovered (and cleverly used as blackmail materials, just as Shen Qingqiu taught).
He had so much he looked forward to. He wanted to explore what he called 'a fantasy world where mythical creatures lived'. Shen Qingqiu thought A Yuan's world must be truly peaceful, considering gigantic deadly beasts and monstrous flowers were very hard to find there.
If A Yuan was here with him, he would definitely beg to join Shen Qingqiu on trips to explore the wilderness. Shen Qingqiu could almost see the child, so bright and laughing with joy while trying to catch the golden-winged butterflies and snow-feathered hummingbirds. He loved writing and recording everything with great details, perhaps he could produce an even better encyclopedia than their predecessors.
Perhaps. Shen Qingqiu questioned himself many times for even picturing those scenes.
A Yuan didn't exist here, and there was no telling if he could even do simple things like running and climbing the mountains.
Shen Qingqiu read the latest diary entry and almost wanted to laugh.
Wouldn't it be funny if his martial brothers could see how this innocent child also held similar thoughts to him? Shen Qingqiu wished Yue Qingyuan had grieved for him. He wished Yue Qingyuan had missed him.
He wanted nothing but for Yue Qingyuan to be safe and happy, yet the selfish part of him also didn't want Yue Qingyuan to feel that joy without him.
The world was simply not as kind to some people. A Yuan had money and freedom, but not the healthy physique to enjoy those privileges. A Yuan had parents and siblings, yet they chose to ‘let him go’ before he was even leaving.
Shen Qingqiu picked up his brush and began writing back.
Dear A Yuan,
Wanting to be loved is a natural desire. You are a child after all. There is no greater blessing to a child than being cared for and loved by their parents.
It is unfortunate that I cannot be there with you. I do not have a child, nor am I able to tell you what it feels like to be loved and missed by parents. However, if you were here with me, I would bring you out to see the Blue Lake, where fireflies dance on the lotus pods and water-lilies like little fairies.
I am not a good cook, but I know where to find the trees with the sweetest sap and fish with the plumpest flesh. The air in the bamboo forest behind my house is always fresh and calming, it gives me solace when I need to think. The Clear Pond is a great place to heal when you’re fatigued and your body aches.
There is at least one person who would be lonely without you.
Shen Qingqiu.
Shen Qingqiu.
That was the first time Lord Ancestor told Shen Yuan their name. They shared the same character for their surname, the spirit was definitely one of his longtime ancestors watching over him. Shen Yuan kept smiling whenever he read the reply.
Lord Ancestor even admitted how much they had grown fond of Shen Yuan. The diary was definitely the best gift Shen Yuan had ever received.
He was so glad that he had the chance to at least read the entry. Now, if only he had the strength to write a reply to Lord Ancestor. His poor great-great-great, many-greats-grandfather must be waiting for his daily writing, but Shen Yuan hadn’t had the chance to write in his diary for the past three days.
He couldn’t hold a pen properly. The long tube and needle stuck to his hand were hurting him. All the medicines being pumped into his body were making him sleepy almost all the time. He wanted to take a dip in the Clear Pond so bad now. Shen Yuan wanted to breathe in the scent of bamboo trees and fresh flowers. The smell of the hospital was making him nauseous. He could almost smell his own death.
“It’s tube feeding aspiration, please call the doctor!” He heard the nurse standing next to him yelling. “Oxygen saturation is low!”
Huh. Shen Yuan didn’t even realize it. Now that he thought about it, he felt light-headed. The world was turning dark. He must be so out of it. Was this the sixth… no, seventh time this happened? How did he survive this long? Perhaps he was actually more resilient than he thought, because the pain alone made him think he had died at least three times.
Six years. What a joke. In the end Shen Yuan couldn’t even last a year. The deaged detective was still a first-grade elementary school student. He didn’t get to play the latest Final Fantasy release. Er-ge, that jerk still hadn’t returned his favorite Gundam. Shen Yuan was sure it was still in Er-ge’s room.
“He’s stable now,” Shen Yuan heard the doctor’s rough voice saying. “Blood pressure and oxygen level are back to normal. Call the family members, we might need to discuss.”
Shen Yuan fought the urge to close his eyes. He desperately lifted his fingers, just enough to alert the nurse that was tucking him in.
“Yes Shen Yuan, what do you want?” The nurse leaned closer and asked.
Shen Yuan mouthed the words, hoping the nurse would be able to understand.
Shen Qingqiu was feeling anxious.
New diary entries never failed to come before. No matter how brief or how long, A Yuan would always write without missing a single day.
It had been five days without any words from A Yuan. Shen Qingqiu even brought the artifact to Yue Qingyuan and Wei Qingwei. His martial brothers confirmed that he was right. The artifact had not lost its powers. A Yuan just wasn’t writing anything.
Shen Qingqiu clutched the book close to his chest. He flew to Qian Cao Peak.
“Is there a way for you to know what kind of disease he has? How can we cure him?” Shen Qingqiu asked.
He realized he was asking for something impossible. There was no way for even the greatest healer of their generation to be able to diagnose someone without actually seeing them. Besides, even if Mu Qingfang was able to guess A Yuan’s ailment, they didn’t have the way to send the cure. Things that existed in their world may not exist in A Yuan’s world too.
“Shixiong, it’s appearing!” Mu Qingfang pointed and Shen Qingqiu’s eyes quickly focused back on the book.
A Yuan. A Yuan was still here. He wrote back.
Dear Diary,
Sorry I left you for too long. Did you feel lonely without me? You did, didn’t you. You can’t fool me, I have the written proof, haha.
I’m sorry for the terrible handwriting. I’m trying my best but my hand hurts so much. I can’t eat well either. At least I don’t have to taste the milk. I think my taste bud is gone.
I can’t wait for everything to end. Maybe I can leave this world and meet my lord ancestor. I hope we can go and play in the bamboo forest, or watch the little fairies.
A Yuan.
Shen Qingqiu pressed his fingers against the characters - a handwriting so different than usual, Shen Qingqiu could barely read it. It was so much rougher, the lines were shaky and some of them smudged. It was evident that the writer wasn’t able to hold his utensil well, and that his eyesight had grown cloudy.
“Is there really no way, Mu Shidi?”
Mu Qingfang gently held his shixiong’s trembling shoulders. “Please calm down, Shixiong. You’ve been doing so well since you’ve started exchanging messages with this person. At this rate you might fall into another qi deviation.”
“You’ve worked out a miracle with Liu Shidi before,” Shen Qingqiu said.
The Qian Cao Peak Lord could almost see the tears he was trying to hold back. “I was able to save Liu Shixiong because Shen Shixiong brought him back in time, when he was on the verge of dying from that qi deviation.”
“... Can I bring the child here?” Shen Qingqiu uttered.
“Shixiong.”
“If there is a way to bring messages from another world, surely there is a way to bring a person,” Shen Qingqiu tried to argue.
Mu Qingfang shook his head. “Shixiong, you’re unwell. Please rest.”
Still feeling oddly weak in his knees, Shen Qingqiu carried himself back to Qing Jing Peak. His gaze remained on the same page all night as he sat down with a cup of forgotten cold tea. He wondered how, why he got so attached to a child he never met. He wasn’t even this attached to the disciples at his own peak.
He began going back to the first page. Then the second. The third. Shen Qingqiu reread the longest entry, where A Yuan was complaining about the terrible ending of a storybook he had been reading for a while. He chuckled when he saw A Yuan’s retelling of his sister’s birthday party, which ended up with his two brothers accidentally getting drenched in fruit juice.
His eyes kept lingering at the entry from two months ago, when A Yuan had gone to the zoo - a place where they kept many different animals. The monkeys’ antics had him laughing so hard that he almost couldn’t breathe. It sent his grandmother into a panic, as she thought A Yuan’s illness was striking him there. A Yuan claimed his grandmother often acted calm, even though she had a lot of anxiety bottled up too. A Yuan worried that his grandmother might panic and end up troubling the people around them instead.
Shen Qingqiu absolutely panicked, the moment he discovered Liu Qingge experiencing that terrible qi deviation.
There was nobody around to help. Shen Qingqiu had no confidence that he could save Liu Qingge either. He couldn’t even get rid of his own heart demons, he was so prone to qi deviations, how could he even save anyone? He couldn’t save himself.
Then he remembered A Yuan, and his many complaints about how panicking always made everything worse. Strangely enough he then remembered another person warning him about trying to help someone in a qi deviation. Was it Shang Qinghua, or was it another person? Nevertheless though Shen Qingqiu almost lost hope, he was able to somehow bring Liu Qingge back in one piece to Mu Qingfang.
Everything following that event felt like a miracle. He and Liu Qingge were able to resolve the misunderstanding between them. His martial siblings treated him with slightly more respect, even more when he defended the sect against a demon invasion. He gained a better reputation, when his youngest disciple was able to defeat a demon. Shen Qingqiu was almost able to get rid of the rot eating him inside as days passed.
Now it felt like the dark days were coming back to him. He had been living fine without exchanging messages with this unknown child. Shen Qingqiu hated this feeling.
He shouldn’t have replied. He shouldn’t have formed this strange, unnecessary bond, with a person he couldn’t even meet.
Yet his hand continued to flip through the pages, and Shen Qingqiu dipped his brush to write another reply.
A Yuan must be waiting.
Shen Qingqiu penned his message and went to bed, with the book held close to his chest.
He woke up the next morning, still holding the book tightly in his hands. Shen Qingqiu opened the last page he had written on.
His face turned deathly pale as he saw crimson stains on a half-written message.
Dear Diary,
I’m tired. I wish I ca-
Shen Qingqiu ran outside. He didn’t even care that he was still in his sleeping robe. He couldn’t be bothered to explain to his disciples, who were all shocked to see their shizun in such a disarray.
There was that demon sword, wasn’t there? Xin Mo. Where could he find it? The sword could only be wielded by a heavenly demon. Where could he even find a heavenly demon?
“Shizun! Shizun!”
“Shen Qingqiu!”
His steps were halted and Shen Qingqiu fell on his knees. His entire body was still shaking. He looked back at the book.
The writings began to fade. Shen Qingqiu gasped. “No. No…. please no!!”
Shen Qingqiu ignored the voices of his disciples, as well as his martial siblings who one by one began to appear, perhaps alerted by any of his disciples. Liu Qingge was behind him, trying to calm him down. Qi Qingqi was attempting to hold him in place. Yue Qingyuan had brought along Wei Qingwei, who carried a special sword with him.
“Shixiong, calm down! Your energy is fluctuating too much!” Qi Qingqi was yelling but Shen Qingqiu couldn’t register a single word.
The words were fading. The spiritual energy from the book was slowly being drained out. Like life itself. Shen Qingqiu blindly clawed at whoever tried taking the book away from him.
“Shen Shixiong, let go! It’s trying to steal your life force!” Wei Qingwei shouted.
The book was trying to take his life force?
Then let it be. Who cares?
A Yuan. A Yuan was dying. If A Yuan could live by taking away Shen Qingqiu’s pathetic life, wouldn’t it be better? Why did A Yuan have to die and leave Shen Qingqiu miserable again?
Strong arms held him in a tight embrace from the back. Shen Qingqiu sobbed. A steady flow of spiritual energy streamed into his body and slowly soothed the turmoil inside him.
“Shixiong.”
He finally recognized Liu Qingge’s voice. Oh, wasn’t this the first time Liu Qingge addressed him properly? This damn brute needed to catch Shen Qingqiu in a humiliating and vulnerable state to finally show some respect, huh.
“A Yuan didn’t die, Shixiong. He went to a better place,” Liu Qingge whispered. His fingers brushed against Shen Qingqiu’s cheek.
How embarrassing, to break down in front of these people like this. Liu Qingge truly had no tact either. He could have said better things.
Shen Qingqiu remained silent and let Liu Qingge carry his body back to the bamboo house. He saw Yue Qingyuan picking up the book and shaking his head.
“It’s empty. I didn’t expect the backlash to be like this… that explains why Qingqiu Shidi acts like that.”
Xin Mo was said to drive its users to madness. It wasn’t unusual for artifacts with unique abilities to cause backlash on users. The artifact had to have been feeding on someone’s energy.
Maybe it had eaten up A Yuan’s lifespan too.
But Yue Qingyuan was wrong about one thing.
Something supposedly so demonic couldn’t make the user develop feelings like affections. Shen Qingqiu was aware of what was happening now. He was mourning for the loss of someone dear.
Liu Qingge continued holding him through the day.
Had it been months ago, Shen Qingqiu would’ve recoiled from repulse.
Now, all he wanted was to bask in this unexpected newfound warmth in his moment of grief.
Dear Diary,
Today is a good day. Papa promised to bring back a puppy. Mama promised to buy dragon’s beard candy. I wish everyday could be like this.
A Yuan
“What are you doing, A Yuan?”
Shen Qingqiu smiled when he noticed his toddler looking so serious while writing. His precious A Yuan was still learning how to read and write and there were limited characters he knew. However, he was absorbing everything at such a fast pace. Yue Qingyuan called him a prodigy. Madam Liu thanked him for passing on his genes to her grandchild.
A decade had passed since he resolved the long conflict he had with Liu Qingge. A decade, since he found that artifact. A decade, since he and Liu Qingge began a relationship that was more intimate in nature.
It all began when Liu Qingge volunteered to keep him in check, after Mu Qingfang deemed him highly unstable following the incident. He stayed behind with Shen Qingqiu, even during the Immortal Alliance Conference. When Shen Qingqiu was grieving for the second time after the news of his disciples’ demise, Liu Qingge was there as well.
His shidi surprisingly could be an absolute sweetheart. Shen Qingqiu gradually recovered from the loss.
He raised another chaotic hell though, when he announced his pregnancy. To be fair, it wasn’t planned. The world was filled with those kinds of pollen everywhere and the one Shen Qingqiu fell into happened to be one that gave him the womb. It also made him very needy and his good shidi always made sure to take care of all his needs.
That included shooting enough essence into his body to create a new life. Nine months later, A Yuan was born.
“I write!” A Yuan said and grinned widely. “A Yuan is shizun like mama.”
Shen Qingqiu kissed the top of his son’s head. “You are also clever like mama. Let me see,” he said and looked closer.
There was something about the way A Yuan wrote. That same sloppiness. Those same wriggly lines.
It had been ten years, but Shen Qingqiu somehow recognized it.
A Yuan hugged his thighs. “Can we play in the bamboo forest after this?”
How did he not realize it, after all this time? His A Yuan.
A Yuan came back as his baby.
“Mama? Mama, are you crying?”
Shen Qingqiu shook his head. He pulled A Yuan to his chest and lifted his son up. His baby. His healthy, happy baby.
“We’re going out to play as much as you want.”
A Yuan laughed.
Shen Qingqiu took in a long, deep breath of the fresh air. The calming scent of bamboo.
He promised A Yuan a lot of things. He would make sure A Yuan get to see those water lilies too.