Qin Baozhu watched TV for a while, then went back to bed to sleep.
She had only just woken up not long ago. Her body felt uncomfortable, her mind was a mess, so she simply decided not to think about anything and buried herself under the covers again.
Half-asleep, half-awake, a pair of cold little hands reached over and pushed her shoulder.
“Mommy, mommy.”
It turned out Zhou Jingrui had come home from school. Aunt Feng had picked him up, and he ran upstairs to find Qin Baozhu to play.
“Mm…”
Qin Baozhu’s long curled lashes trembled a few times before she slowly opened her eyes, seeing the little boy in front of her looking at her pitifully.
“What’s wrong?”
She hadn’t slept well. It felt like she had several nightmares. A thin layer of cold sweat clung to her back.
Holding her forehead, Qin Baozhu sat up. Her voice sounded a little hoarse. “Do you need something?”
Zhou Jingrui looked at her pitifully, his soft childish voice full of grievance. “Mommy, when I went to school this morning, you promised me that when I came home, you would build a snowman with me.”
“Oh…”
Before Qin Baozhu even reacted, Aunt Feng walked in.
“Ruirui, your mom is sleeping. Don’t come in and bother her!”
She reached out to drag the little boy away.
The child didn’t understand yet that his mother was no longer the same person as before. He still clung to her like always, wanting to play.
Qin Baozhu reached out to stop Aunt Feng.
Lying alone in bed really was boring.
Might as well go downstairs and build a snowman with him.
She got out of bed, put on the fox-fur cotton jacket, and changed into a pair of warm cotton pants.
After changing, she yawned and walked toward the door.
Seeing Zhou Jingrui and Aunt Feng still frozen there, she turned her head and asked the boy, “Aren’t we going to build a snowman? Let’s go.”
Zhou Jingrui snapped back to his senses and happily followed her. His delicate little face scrunched up in a smile. “Okay!”
As Qin Baozhu walked down the stairs, she suddenly felt a cold little hand slip into her palm.
Walking beside her with little pattering steps, Zhou Jingrui said thoughtfully, “Mommy, walk slowly. Be careful on the stairs.”
Acting like a little grown-up.
Qin Baozhu glanced at him—this child barely reached half her height—yet her “cheap son” was quite considerate.
Early spring.
The New Year had just passed.
Although Dejing Town was in the south, it sat fairly north geographically, so it was still freezing cold during this season.
It had snowed several times in the past few days. The snow was now thick. The snow on the road had been packed down smooth, but the snow in the courtyard remained clean and white.
Zhou Jingrui was still just a five-year-old. Even though it snowed every year in Dejing, playing in the snow was still endlessly fun to him.
And Qin Baozhu… deep down, she was also just an eighteen-year-old girl. When she saw snow, she couldn’t walk straight either.
The mother and son rolled around the yard, building a snowman, sweating from all the playing.
Aunt Feng, being a full-grown adult, no longer felt excited about building snowmen. She had originally worried that now that Qin Baozhu had regained her memories, she wouldn’t be able to play with Zhou Jingrui anymore. But seeing the two of them rolling around the yard like wild children… she didn’t know what to say.
…This behavior of Qin Baozhu—how was it any different from before she regained her memories?
Not only that—once Zhou Fuguang came home later, he would probably still have to heat bathwater for her, wash her hands and face, soak her feet to warm her up… exactly the same as before!
Aunt Feng watched for a while, shook her head in resignation, then went to cook.
Qin Baozhu built a big round snowman. Zhou Jingrui even snuck into the kitchen to steal a carrot for its nose. The two of them stood with arms crossed, admiring their masterpiece from a distance, both quite satisfied.
Zhou Jingrui felt in his pocket and found the piece of milk candy Aunt Feng had given him that morning. Like presenting a treasure, he held it out to Qin Baozhu. “Mommy, this is for you.”
Qin Baozhu glanced at him. Not being polite at all, she took the candy, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth.
The sweet milky flavor spread across her tongue. Qin Baozhu narrowed her eyes comfortably.
Zhou Jingrui wanted to eat candy too, but making his mommy happy was more important.
Mommy played with him and even ate his candy. That must mean she wasn’t angry at him anymore, right?
“Is it good?” he asked, licking his own lips, tempted.
He loved milk candy just as much as she did.
Qin Baozhu smacked her lips, savoring the taste. “Not bad.”
Zhou Jingrui grinned happily.
As long as Mommy liked it.
He didn’t waste a whole day drooling over it for nothing.
Not far away, Zhou Fuguang—who had come home early from the pig farm—stood holding the chubby little girl, Lu Sheng. His expression was difficult to describe.
His son’s fawning expression toward Qin Baozhu looked exactly like the way he used to be when he was a kid.
Qin Baozhu and Zhou Jingrui were chatting and laughing. When her eyes shifted, she suddenly saw a man in a long black wool coat standing in the snow not far away—Zhou Fuguang.
A milky little girl who looked like a bundled-up snow dumpling sat on his arm. His dark, sharp eyes were fixed on her. A grown man, with skin paler than the snow itself—snowlight reflecting off his cold face—just stood there staring at her. Who knew how long he had been there.
“…”
The smile on Qin Baozhu’s face stiffened. She dropped the handful of snow she was holding and turned away, fleeing into the house with matching hands and feet.
“Daddy!”
Zhou Jingrui turned around, spotting Zhou Fuguang. He ran over excitedly, clinging to his father’s arm and swaying his small body. “I was very good today! Teacher praised me!”
Zhou Fuguang pulled his gaze back from Qin Baozhu’s fleeing figure. Looking down at his son’s expectant face, he patted his smiling little cheek. “Good boy.”
“Daddy,” Zhou Jingrui proudly pointed at the snowman he made with Qin Baozhu, “that’s the snowman Mommy and I built! Look, isn’t it big?”
Zhou Fuguang’s eyes landed on the round snowman.
Its eyes were two potatoes, and its bright red nose was a carrot.
Qin Baozhu—who had already given birth to three children, with a biological age of twenty-four—had a mental age…
Probably about the same as Zhou Jingrui.
Thinking of how she ran from him like a startled rabbit, Zhou Fuguang tugged the corner of his mouth, squeezing out a trace of mockery.
Qin Baozhu, looks like you finally have a taste of your own medicine.