Mid-December arrived, and the days grew colder and colder.
Shen Qingyou had already grown accustomed to life here.
Every day, she got up early to cook, rode her bicycle to school, came home to do her homework, and waited for her third uncle to return so they could have dinner together.
She truly loved these quiet, ordinary days.
One day after school, Li Hongmei came over to her.
“Qingyou, the school is showing a movie tomorrow night. Are you going?”
Shen Qingyou was taken aback. “A movie?”
“Mm, Tunnel Warfare. It’s really good!” Li Hongmei’s eyes sparkled. “My dad said it’s about fighting in the war, super exciting. A lot of kids from our class are going. You should come too?”
Shen Qingyou didn’t answer right away.
She thought back to her past life. The school had organized a movie screening back then too. She had wanted to go but was too afraid. Later, she listened to her classmates talk about it for days, secretly regretting it in her heart.
“What time does it end?” she asked.
“Around eight or so,” Li Hongmei said. “We’ll come back right after. It won’t be too late.”
In winter, by eight o’clock, the sky was already pitch dark.
Shen Qingyou felt a little hesitant.
“Let me think about it,” she said.
On the way home, she rode her bike, turning it over in her mind the whole time.
She hadn’t gone to the movie in her past life. In this life, she wanted to go.
But after the movie, it would be dark. If she came home alone, would Third Uncle worry?
Maybe she should tell him?
But what if she told him, and he insisted on picking her up? He was so busy. She couldn’t keep troubling him.
She thought it over and over and finally made a decision: go, but don’t say anything.
The movie would end around eight. If she rode a little faster, she could definitely be home by nine.
Third Uncle usually came home late anyway. Maybe he wouldn’t even be back by the time she got there.
With that thought, she made up her mind.
The next evening, she made dinner as usual, covered the dishes with bowls on the table, and left a note for her third uncle.
“Third Uncle, I’ll be home a little late. The food is on the table.”
She tucked the note under the enamel mug, changed her clothes, and rode her bike toward the school.
By the time she arrived, the playground was already crowded with people.
A large white sheet was strung between two trees. The projector stood behind the crowd, and someone was adjusting it. The sky hadn’t fully darkened yet. Everyone had brought their little folding stools and staked out their spots, laughing and horsing around.
Li Hongmei spotted her from afar and waved vigorously.
“Qingyou! Over here!”
Shen Qingyou squeezed through the crowd and sat down next to Li Hongmei.
The sky gradually turned dark, and the movie began.
Tunnel Warfare was even more exciting than Shen Qingyou had imagined.
Fighting the Japanese, crawling through tunnels—it made your blood boil.
Cheers erupted from time to time, and Shen Qingyou slowly became completely absorbed in the film.
In her past life, she had only ever heard faint echoes of these sounds drifting from a distance, knowing the school was showing a movie.
Back then, she had leaned on her windowsill, gazed in that direction for a while, then lowered her head and continued doing her homework.
In this life, she finally got to watch it.
By the time the movie ended, it was already half past eight. Everyone was still wanting more.
The crowd slowly began to stream out. Li Hongmei grabbed her hand. “Qingyou, are you by yourself? My dad came to pick me up. Do you want a ride?”
Shen Qingyou said, “I rode my bike here.”
“Then be careful on the way!” Li Hongmei waved and left with her father.
The crowd thinned out. Only a few people remained on the playground, packing up.
Shen Qingyou pushed her bike and walked toward the school gate.
Outside, the street was pitch black. Only a few streetlamps in the distance cast dim light.
She got on her bike and rode fast, the wheels clattering over the frozen road.
The winter night wind was bitterly cold, biting at her face. The roads were dark on both sides, and every time a shadowy figure passed by, her heart leaped into her throat.
In her past life, she had once stayed late at school and walked home in the dark. She had been cornered by a few thugs. Though nothing had happened in the end, that feeling of terror still made her scalp tingle just thinking about it.
As she passed by an alley, a dog suddenly barked from ahead.
Shen Qingyou’s hands jolted, the handlebars wobbling. She quickly stopped and braced her feet on the ground.
Out of the darkness, a dog darted from the alley and barked straight at her.
She was frozen in fear, her hands gripping the handlebars, trembling.
Luckily, the dog only barked a few times before running off.
Shen Qingyou let out a long breath, climbed back onto the bike, and pedaled even faster.
She didn’t dare slow down, afraid of running into something else.
The closer she got to home, the more familiar the roads became, and only then did her heart slowly settle.
Turning into the alley, she saw from a distance a lit lamp hanging by her own front gate.
A warm, orange glow, vivid against the darkness of the night.
Shen Qingyou’s heart warmed. She sped up toward it.
At the gate, she jumped off her bike and pushed open the yard door.
The yard was quiet, but the light was on in the main room.
She froze for a moment.
Third Uncle was back?
She leaned her bike against the wall and walked to the main room door, lifting the curtain.
Inside, the kang (heated brick bed) was warm, and her frozen body instantly began to thaw.
Yan Tingxu sat at the table. In front of him were the dishes she had made. The note she had left was still tucked under the enamel mug, untouched.
He looked up and saw her.
Shen Qingyou felt a little guilty under his gaze. She stood at the door, not daring to move.
“Third Uncle, you haven’t eaten yet?”
Yan Tingxu didn’t answer. He only asked, “Why so late?”
His tone was flat, revealing nothing.
But Shen Qingyou just felt that something about Third Uncle was different today.
“…The school showed a movie,” she confessed honestly. “Tunnel Warfare. I stayed to watch it, so I came back late.”
Yan Tingxu looked at her, his gaze slowly sweeping from her face down to her ears, red from the cold, and then to her hands clutching the hem of her clothes.
“Why wasn’t that written clearly on the note? I would have come to pick you up,” Yan Tingxu asked again.
Shen Qingyou felt even more guilty.
She had written it that way precisely because she didn’t want Third Uncle to come pick her up.
But she didn’t dare say that, afraid he would think she disliked him.
She dropped her gaze, her mind racing, but she hadn’t figured out what to say. Unconsciously, a small furrow formed between her brows.
Just then, Yan Tingxu asked another question.
“Haven’t eaten yet, have you?” he said.
The sudden shift in topic made Shen Qingyou sigh with relief. She quickly shook her head.
“Sit down,” Yan Tingxu said as he stood up and moved the bowls and chopsticks on the table. “Eat.”
Shen Qingyou obediently walked over and sat down across from him.
The food on the table had already gone cold, but he went to the kitchen and came back with a bowl of hot soup.
“Have some soup first. Warm yourself up.”
He placed the soup in front of her and then served her a bowl of rice.
Shen Qingyou held the bowl in her hands, the warmth of the hot soup seeping through her palms.
She lowered her head and slowly drank the soup.
Yan Tingxu sat across from her and also began to eat.
He didn’t ask anything else. He simply ate his meal, occasionally glancing over at her.
As Shen Qingyou ate, she suddenly spoke up.
“Third Uncle, how did you know I hadn’t eaten?”
Yan Tingxu’s chopsticks paused for a moment.
“Just a guess.”
Shen Qingyou was taken aback for a second, then lowered her head again.
After the meal, Yan Tingxu went to wash the dishes. Shen Qingyou wanted to help, but one look from him made her sit back down.
She sat by the table, watching his back as he did the dishes.
Third Uncle was still as tall and lean as ever—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, very handsome.
But she suddenly felt that his silhouette tonight seemed… more than usual.
More what? She couldn’t quite put it into words.
That night, back in her own room, Shen Qingyou tossed and turned for a long time before finally falling asleep.
…
The next day, Shen Qingyou woke up early as well. When she went out to take out the trash, she ran into their neighbor, Aunt Zhang, at the gate.
Aunt Zhang spotted her and greeted her with a smile. “Oh, little Miss Shen, went to the movies last night?”
Shen Qingyou nodded. “Yes, Aunt Zhang.”
“Have a good time?”
“I did.”
Aunt Zhang chuckled, then lowered her voice. “Your third uncle, though—he didn’t look too happy about it.”
Shen Qingyou paused. “What?”
“Last night,” Aunt Zhang said, “I came out to dump some water and saw Third Master Yan pacing in the yard several times. I asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn’t say. Later, I saw him standing at the gate with a frown, staring down the alley for the longest time. I figure he was waiting for you.”
Shen Qingyou was stunned.
Aunt Zhang smiled. “You two may not be related by blood, but I think Third Master Yan treats you better than any real uncle would.”
Aunt Zhang left. Shen Qingyou stood there, not moving for a long time.
She thought about the lamp that had been lit when she came home last night.
And him sitting at the table, the untouched food still in front of him.
No wonder she had felt that something was off about Third Uncle’s tone yesterday.
So he had been waiting for her.
She had left him a note. Why had he waited for her anyway?
He could have easily eaten first without worrying about her.
In both of her lives combined, this was the first time Shen Qingyou had ever known what it felt like to be waited for.
She stood there, and suddenly her eyes felt a little sore.
She lowered her head and blinked hard, forcing the sting back down.
That night, lying in bed, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Shen Qingyou rolled over and looked at the moonlight streaming through the window.
The moonlight fell on the windowsill, bright and clear.
A thought suddenly occurred to her.
Third Uncle’s sweater seemed old.
She had noticed it the other day when she was taking down the laundry—the collar had worn thin, and the cuffs were starting to pill.
He wore that old sweater day in and day out. He had bought her a cotton jacket, gloves, and all sorts of other things, but she had never seen him buy himself a single new sweater.
Then she would knit one for him.
The idea suddenly came to her.
She would use the best yarn, knit the warmest style, so he could wear it through the winter.
As Shen Qingyou thought about it, the corners of her lips curved up. She closed her eyes.
Yes. Tomorrow, she would go buy the yarn.