Spring, 1995 — Pingjiang City
A gentle breeze stirred the pure white curtains. The faint morning light filtered through the thin gauze and spilled into the dim bedroom, casting soft, swaying shadows across the floor.
The bedroom was a little over ten square meters. Two single beds were placed against the walls—one inside, one outside—with a curtain hanging between them as a divider.
The bed near the door was neatly arranged. A blue plaid bedsheet was perfectly spread out, and the quilt had already been folded into a tidy square, giving off a clean and refreshing feeling.
The bed by the window inside the room had a pink-and-white striped bedsheet with a matching duvet cover. A little girl was hugging the blanket, sleeping soundly like a small piglet.
She wore a pale pink nightdress. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with baby fat, and her limbs were neither thin nor bony—just pleasantly round and fair. It was obvious at a glance that she was the kind of child who always had a good appetite.
The loose hair on her forehead curled slightly. Her long, curled eyelashes looked like delicate little brushes.
Her nose bridge was small and delicate, and her mouth was slightly open in a naive way. A string of clear drool hung from the corner of her lips, soaking a small patch of the pillow towel.
The bedroom door was gently pushed open from outside.
A handsome boy with refined features stepped in quietly, supporting himself with a specially made crutch under his left arm.
He moved to the window, glanced at the girl still immersed in sweet dreams, and sighed softly before pulling open the curtains.
Swish—
The crisp sound of the curtain hooks made the girl’s brows twitch.
She immediately pulled the blanket over her face to block the glaring light.
After a moment of silence, she complained in a muffled voice:
“Zhou Jingchen, you’re so annoying…”
Zhou Jingchen pursed his lips, gathered his courage, and urged her gently.
“It’s time for school, Wen Xi. If you don’t get up now, we’ll be late again today.”
Five minutes later, Wen Xi rubbed her sleepy eyes and struggled to sit up in bed. Her hair stuck up like a messy bird’s nest. She shot a fierce glare at the boy standing by the window.
“What did you just call me?” she demanded angrily.
Even from a short distance, Zhou Jingchen could clearly feel her morning temper—and the faint milky fragrance floating in the air.
Since she was little, Wen Xi had drunk a bottle of pure milk every single day without fail.
Zhou Jingchen felt that she had practically been marinated in the sweet smell of milk, like a walking milk candy.
Lowering his gaze, he obediently called out in a soft voice,
“Big Sister.”
Wen Xi looked satisfied. The corners of her lips lifted slightly as she ordered arrogantly,
“Puppy, bring my clothes over!”
If Xiang Qin and Wen Zhiting were home, she would never dare to call him “puppy.” Xiang Qin would definitely beat her for it.
Only when the adults weren’t around would she call him that without restraint.
Zhou Jingchen was Wen Xi’s puppy.
Even Zhou Jingchen himself believed that.
He didn’t dislike the nickname at all. Ever since he could remember, Wen Xi had always called him “puppy.”
She never called anyone else that.
It was her exclusive nickname for him.
Even though growing up, she often found joy in teasing and bullying him.
Zhou Jingchen walked over to the walnut wood wardrobe and opened it.
Most of the clothes inside belonged to Wen Xi—colorful, beautiful dresses of all kinds.
In one small corner, a few of his spare clothes were pressed together.
He didn’t stay here every day. Only when Grandpa Zhou worked the night shift would he come to stay at the Wen family’s home.
If his grandfather wasn’t on night duty, he would return to his own house across the hallway to stay with him.
“May I ask which dress Miss would like to wear today?” he asked, tilting his head toward her. His voice was clear and gentle, the words “Miss” carrying a hint of coaxing.
He knew she had terrible morning temper. She hated waking up early and didn’t want to go to school.
So in the mornings, he usually called her by titles she liked—such as Miss or Princess.
“Pink? Blue? Or yellow?” Zhou Jingchen asked, his gaze resting on her slightly chubby little face.
Wen Xi’s skin was extremely fair—like a freshly boiled egg with its shell peeled off. If someone gently poked it with their fingertip, it would feel soft and tender.
The girl covered her face in agony and let out a long groan.
With furrowed brows, she raised her small pink fist and resentfully pounded the bed a couple of times.
Then she looked up and resigned herself.
“This young lady wants the little bee dress,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse from just waking up.
He chuckled softly, understanding immediately.
Reaching up, he took down the pale yellow doll-collar dress from the wardrobe. When he turned around, he saw the girl rustling beneath the blanket, quickly pulling off her nightdress.
When Wen Xi noticed his gaze, she flashed a mischievous grin.
With a wicked little smile, she tossed the nightdress she had just removed straight at his face.
The smooth fabric, carrying her soft sweet scent, covered him.
He froze for a moment, then calmly grabbed the piece of cloth off his face. His helpless expression suggested he was already used to this.
Wen Xi stretched her snow-white arms out from under the blanket and skillfully pulled the dress over her head.
Then she kicked off the blanket, jumped out of bed, and shuffled toward the bathroom in plastic slippers.
After washing up, she returned to the bedroom.
The quilt had already been folded neatly into a square. The bedsheet was perfectly smooth without a single wrinkle. Her nightdress had been folded and placed tidily at the corner of the bed.
Clinking sounds of bowls and chopsticks came from the kitchen.
Warm morning sunlight fell across the bed. The little bit of irritation she had from waking up was completely gone.
She skipped happily toward the kitchen.
Zhou Jingchen, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, was busy at the stove.
He placed two bowls beside the steel pot. Supporting himself with his crutch under his left arm, he held a ladle in his right hand and scooped white rice porridge into the bowls with practiced ease.
The boy was already 174 cm tall. His face was cool and handsome, and his back was straight and upright.
The fingers holding the ladle were pale and slender, his knuckles distinct. Faint blue veins showed on the back of his hand like an exquisite piece of art.
There was a sense of maturity and steadiness about him that didn’t quite belong to someone his age.
If not for the crutch under his left arm, he would look no different from any ordinary teenage boy.
Zhou Jingchen finished serving the porridge and picked up one bowl.
As he turned around, his gaze suddenly met a pair of bright, beautiful eyes.
The porridge in the bowl trembled slightly.
Wen Xi stepped forward awkwardly.
“I’ll carry it. If my mom sees this, she’ll scold me again.”
Standing in front of him with her 156 cm height, she looked tiny. When she raised her eyes, she could see the boy’s long neck and prominent Adam’s apple.
Wen Xi often complained in her heart that heaven was unfair.
They ate the same food every day. She was even a year older than him.
So why was he so tall?
She snatched the bowl from his hand and carried it along with the other bowl from the stove to the dining table in the living room.
Zhou Jingchen followed and sat down at the table, placing his crutch beside it.
On the table were two eggs, two steamed buns, and a plate of cold shredded cabbage—breakfast prepared by Wen Xi’s mother, Xiang Qin, before leaving for work.
The living room wasn’t large.
A wooden table, a simple sofa, a television, and a cabinet—just a few basic pieces of furniture.
On the cabinet sat a vase and several handmade wooden carvings.
A large wooden photo frame hung on the wall with several photographs inside.
One was the wedding photo that Wen Xi’s parents—Wen Zhiting and Xiang Qin—had taken last year.
In the photo, Xiang Qin smiled brightly in a wedding dress, leaning gently against her husband’s shoulder like a happy young bride.
Another was a work photo of Wen Zhiting when he was promoted to factory director of Hongxing Machinery Factory, dressed in a black suit with a dignified air.
There was also a photo of Wen Xi and Zhou Jingchen taken when they were eight years old.
They were sitting side by side on a stool, holding hands.
In the photo, Zhou Jingchen sat properly with a faint smile toward the camera.
Wen Xi, who was going through the stage of losing her baby teeth, was missing her two front teeth. Her wide grin looked adorably silly.
Wen Xi grabbed her chopsticks, stuffing a bun and cabbage into her mouth.
She glanced at the clock on the wall.
Damn it—6:50!
She quickly gulped down her porridge and mumbled through her food,
“Hurry up and eat, we’re going to be late.”
The boy across from her sighed.
Every time it was the same—she only panicked when the situation was urgent.
They would definitely miss the 7:00 a.m. morning study session again.
Wen Xi slurped down most of her porridge, licked her lips, then suddenly remembered she hadn’t packed everything.
She hurriedly stuffed her homework into her schoolbag and zipped it up, then dashed into the bedroom to grab a pair of white lace socks.
Like a bolt of lightning, she ran back and forth through the house.
When she finally sat down again, panting heavily, Zhou Jingchen had already peeled a boiled egg and placed it on the plate in front of her.
“Eat the egg,” he said.
Wen Xi tossed the socks into his arms.
Then she boldly placed her plump little feet onto his lap, wiggling them against the tense muscles of his thighs as she ordered:
“Puppy, hurry! Help this princess put on her socks!”
Her two thick braids rested on her shoulders, and her bright eyes sparkled like they held stars.
She ordered people around as if it were perfectly natural.
Leaning back comfortably in her chair, she grabbed the egg and stuffed it into her mouth, thinking happily that having a little servant was great—she could eat and get dressed at the same time.
Zhou Jingchen calmly held her pink, jade-like feet and patiently helped her put on the socks.
Across from him, the silly girl was chewing the egg in big bites.
Perhaps it was a little dry, so she lifted the porcelain bowl and gulped down two mouthfuls of rice soup.
The white lace cotton socks matched perfectly with her yellow dress.
She looked petite and lovely, like spring itself.
The girl squinted her eyes in satisfaction and lightly rubbed her foot against his palm.
“Thank you, my good little brother,” she said sweetly with a bright smile.
Zhou Jingchen blinked.
His deep, dark eyes quietly stared at her—no one knew what he was thinking.