A young boy from the 1970s, separated from his family, fled famine and led his younger brother into

The return bus was even emptier than the one that came on, with only three people on board.

Su Nianci sat in the last row by the window, her shoulder against the bus wall and her forehead against the glass.

The fields outside the window receded quickly, the yellow rice stubble, green vegetable gardens, and gray cement roads brushing past in sections, blending into a blurry patch of color.

Her hand was in her pocket, her fingertips pinching the ears of the tiger-head shoes, turning them unconsciously.

She's had these shoes for many years.

From the road of fleeing famine to the medicine cabinet of Niancitang, from the threshold of the military compound to the outside of the delivery room, it was carried everywhere and was more effective than any amulet.

She couldn't bear to bury her.

She knew that.

Some things can be let go, and some things don't need to be let go.

The tiger-head shoes didn't belong to Lin Xi; they were sewn by Su Weiguo for Su Nianci. They were something a father left for his daughter, and had nothing to do with past or future lives.

The bus wheel rolled over a pothole, and the whole bus bounced. Her head hit the window, but not hard, and made a soft thud.

She rubbed her temples and sat up straight.

No images came to mind.

There was no white light, no operating table, and no shadowless lamp.

She rarely thinks about the last moment of her past life anymore.

Only occasionally did a fragment flash through my mind—the lights were too bright, everything in front of me was white, the suture needle in my hand still had thread stuck in it, and the last thought that crossed my mind was "there are still three surgeries to be completed".

What happened to those three surgeries afterward?

do not know.

The colleague who took over should have finished by now.

She's thinking about something else now.

Hoshino needs to change his long johns. The ones from last year are worn out and shiny at the knees, and they've lost all their elasticity. We need to buy new ones before the temperature drops. His legs are half a head longer than other kids his age, so we need to buy a size larger.

I'm keeping an eye on Banxia's cough yesterday. Although it was only one cough, the sound was a little hoarse, and it sounded like her throat was slightly dry. Tonight, I'll make her a bowl of pear soup with a few slices of fritillaria cirrhosa.

It's best to keep Lu Xingzhou away from his stir-fried beef with pickled bamboo shoots. His ability to control the oil temperature hasn't improved at all in the past three years, and he's triggered the alarm more times than the alarms during military training exercises.

As for the book "Collection of Su's Effective Prescriptions," only one-third of the copying work has been completed. The dosages for the remaining prescriptions need to be cross-referenced with her own clinical experience, which will take at least another week.

The shrapnel wound on Su An's hand has healed on the surface, but whether the remaining fragment underneath needs to be surgically removed depends on observation for a while. We'll find some time to take him for a CT scan before he goes back this time.

There are too many things to do.

There were so many things that she didn't have time to think about her past and present lives anymore.

The shuttle bus turned onto the asphalt road.

The road suddenly became smooth, and the scenery outside the car window changed. The fields disappeared, replaced by roadside trees and low-rise buildings, which then grew taller and denser.

Coming.

She pulled her hands out of her pockets and wiped the dirt and grime from her fingertips on her trouser leg.

The shuttle bus stopped at the platform at the entrance of the alley.

She jumped off the car, her feet landing firmly on the concrete pavement.

Looking up, I saw Lu Xingzhou.

He stood under the sycamore tree at the alley entrance, holding a bowl of pork rib soup in his hand. A plate was placed on top of the bowl to keep it warm, and his thumb was wedged on the edge of the plate, holding the bowl steadily.

He watched her walk over, but didn't move; he just stood there.

Su Nianci stopped in front of him and glanced at the bowl in his hand.

"How long have you been standing here?"

"I checked the time, it's been two and a half hours."

"Aren't your legs sore?"

"If your leg gets sore, switch to the other leg to stand on."

Su Nianci lowered her head and chuckled.

Lu Xingzhou lifted the plate off the bowl, steam was still rising, and two goji berries floated on the soup noodles, their color clear.

Are you hungry?

"Hungry."

"Drink the soup first."

Su Nianci reached out and took the bowl, then lowered her head and took a sip.

Hot.

Fresh.

It burned my mouth and I hissed.

She blew on it and took a second sip. The pork ribs in the soup were stewed until they were so tender that they fell apart with a touch of her tongue.

"Who made this soup today?"

"I made it."

"The ribs weren't burnt?"

"This time I used a clay pot and simmered it on low heat for three hours without leaving the stove."

Su Nianci glanced at him, a smile curving her lips.

"You've made progress."

Lu Xingzhou's ears turned slightly red. He didn't reply, but reached out and took the canvas bag from her shoulder, slinging it over his own.

The two walked back along the alley.

The alley was short, with old vines climbing the walls on both sides, and the autumn wind carried the smell of dry fallen leaves.

After walking less than thirty steps, the courtyard gate was already in front of us.

The door was open.

Before Su Nianci could even step over the threshold, the place erupted in chaos.

"Mommy! Mommy's home!"

Banxia's short legs bounced incredibly fast as she rushed straight from the depths of the yard, stirring up a gust of wind that flipped over two fallen leaves on the ground.

Hoshino followed behind her, a beat slower, but with precise aim, heading straight for Su Nianci's right leg.

Two small, fleshy balls crashed into it one after the other.

Banxia hugged her left leg, and Xingye hugged her right leg. With their combined strength, the bowl in Su Nianci's hand shook violently, and two drops of soup splashed out and landed on Banxia's head.

"Hot! Hot! Hot!"

Banxia shrank her neck, but didn't loosen her grip. She buried her head in Su Nianci's skirt, her voice muffled and only half-sounding.

"Mom, you've been gone for so long!"

Hoshino didn't say anything, her two small hands gripping the seams of her pants, her fingers clenched tightly.

Su Nianci held the bowl in one hand, looking down at the two pendants at her feet. She opened her mouth twice but didn't have time to say anything, and almost dropped the bowl.

Lu Xingzhou swiftly took the bowl from her hands, stepped back to free her hands.

Su Nianci squatted down, put her arms around one of them, and the two little heads nestled on either side of her neck, one rubbing against her chin and the other nuzzling her shoulder.

"I was only out for half a day, is it really that big of a deal?"

Banxia's voice came from her collarbone.

"Even half a day is a long time!"

Hoshino didn't speak, but his fingers gripped the hem of her clothes even tighter.

Su Nianci ruffled the hair on both of their heads, rubbing Banxia's knotted braid with her left hand and Xingye's sticking-up ahoge with her right.

"Alright, Mom's back."

She stood up, took one child in each hand, and walked into the courtyard.

The last petals of the Gesang flowers, scattered on the ground, were swept by the wind to the base of the wall, where they gathered into small piles.

Sunlight streamed in slanted from above the courtyard wall, casting long shadows of the three people.

Su Nianci reached into her pocket, touched the tiger-head shoes with her fingertips, then pulled them out and grasped Banxia's hand.

That night.

The children were asleep, and the yard was quiet.

When Su Nianci came out of the shower, her hair was wet, and two drops of water dripped onto the collar of her pajamas.

She pushed open the study door and saw Lu Xingzhou sitting at his desk.

The desk lamp was on, its light shining on the table beside him.

There was a letter in front of him.

The envelope was new, white, and facing up.

Su Nianci walked over, her gaze falling on the envelope.

The recipient's name was simply written as "Su An".

Her brows furrowed.

Lu Xingzhou's fingers pressed on the first line of the letter, so she couldn't see what was written at the beginning.

But the last line of the letter was visible between his fingers, and when she looked over it, she could see every single word clearly.

"...Your sister has carried enough burdens in her life. From now on, you'll share this burden with me."

Su Nianci stared at that line of text for three seconds.

"What is it?"