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

The study light stayed on all night.

Su Nianci pulled the nine marked prescriptions out of the entire atlas, arranged them in order of number, and spread them on the desk, taking up two-thirds of the entire surface.

Nine sheets of paper, nine small circles, and nine words.

She spread out a blank sheet of paper next to her and wrote down the nine characters in order.

Human, ginseng, nourish, heart, soup, protect, mind, compassion, prescription.

The pen was put down.

Her right hand rested on the table, her five fingers curling into her palm one by one, and then loosening them one by one.

Ginseng Nourishing Heart Soup, a formula for protecting compassion.

The first five characters are the name of a classic prescription.

She read the last four words three times, her lips moving but no sound coming out.

The prescription to protect Su Nianci.

Her gaze shifted from those four words to the nine prescriptions spread out on the table. She picked up the first one again and began to read it carefully from the beginning.

The door was gently pushed open a crack.

Zhang Chengzhi stood at the door with his cane, glanced at her, didn't go in, and then went back inside.

In the hallway, Lu Zhenhua's voice was low: "Is she still watching?"

"Don't bother her." Zhang Chengzhi tapped his cane on the floor. "Let her read it herself."

"Uncle Zhang, what do those nine characters spell out?"

Zhang Chengzhi was silent for a few seconds, then his voice was hoarse: "Ginseng Nourishing Heart Soup, Protecting Mind and Compassion Formula."

Lu Zhenhua remained silent.

After a long pause, he finally said, "This man from Wei..."

He couldn't finish his sentence; it felt like something was stuck in his throat.

Zhang Chengzhi nudged his leg with his cane: "Go back to sleep, you still have work to do tomorrow."

"I can't sleep."

"If you can't sleep, go back to bed. What's the point of standing here?"

The sound of their footsteps faded into the distance.

In the study, Su Nianci looked at the nine prescriptions for the second time.

The first prescription is for treating infantile convulsions. The main ingredients are Liuwei Dihuang Wan (Uncaria rhynchophylla), Cicadae Periostracum, Bombyx Batryticatus, Gastrodia elata, Arisaema cum Bile, and Scorpion. The dosage has been slightly adjusted. The dosage of Scorpion has been reduced by half a qian (approximately 3 grams), and Gastrodia elata has been increased by one qian (approximately 3 grams). The annotation next to it says that the medicine should be used in a light dose for children with weak constitutions.

The second prescription is for treating indigestion in children.

The third prescription is for treating early-stage colds in children.

The fourth image shows a topical wash for eczema.

The fifth one is Night Crying Calming Powder.

The sixth image shows an internal treatment plan for acne breakouts.

The seventh image shows coughing and wheezing.

The eighth image shows a sprain or bruise.

The ninth image depicts insect-related diseases.

Nine images, representing nine common childhood illnesses.

When she looked at it for the third time, she noticed the tiny age markings written in pencil next to the dosage column of each prescription.

The first one is for children under three years old.

The second picture shows children aged three to five.

The third picture shows children aged five to seven.

In this way, the nine prescriptions cover the entire age range from birth to twelve years old, and the dosage for each age group has been precisely adjusted.

Her finger rested on the age label on the first prescription.

Children under three years old.

Su Weiguo had already sacrificed his life when she was three years old.

When he wrote these prescriptions, she was still an infant, or perhaps she hadn't even been born yet.

He pre-screened all the possible illnesses his daughter might encounter from birth to age twelve, prepared corresponding prescriptions, marked each one, and used her name as a code.

Ginseng Nourishing Heart Soup for Caring for Compassion.

He wasn't compiling a medical book.

He was compiling a life-saving manual for a little girl who couldn't even speak yet.

Su Nianci placed her hands on the table, her ten fingers pressing on the nine yellowed sheets of paper.

Her shoulders were trembling, but there was no sound, not a sound at all.

After trembling for a while, she lowered her head, resting her forehead on the table, her breath causing the edges of the prescription paper in front of her to curl slightly.

She pulled her hand away from the table, reached into her pocket, her fingertips touched the fabric of the tiger-head shoe, took it out and held it in her palm, then buried her face in the gap between her palm and the tiger-head shoe.

The velvet fabric of the tiger head brushed against her nose, having absorbed her body heat and the sweat of her hands over the years; the fabric carried an indescribable old smell.

Old and warm.

Her tears squeezed out from her closed eyes, falling drop by drop onto the tiger-head shoes' face, and trickling into the only remaining slit eyeball of the crooked-mouthed tiger.

She cried so quietly that the chirping of crickets in the yard outside the window was louder than her crying.

I don't know how much time has passed.

The study door was gently pushed open.

Lu Xingzhou stood at the door, wearing a vest and a pair of shorts, slippers, his hair messy, and holding a glass of water in his hand.

He got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and get some water. As he passed the study door, he saw that the light was still on and a ray of light was shining through the crack in the door.

He pushed the door open and saw Su Nianci.

She was sitting on the floor, having slid off the chair at some point, her back against the desk leg, her legs crossed, holding the nine prescriptions and the pair of tiger-head shoes in her arms.

Eyes closed, asleep.

His face was covered with dried tear tracks, one after another, winding from the corners of his eyes to his chin, glistening with a faint saltiness under the light.

But a faint smile lingered at the corners of her mouth, a very slight upturn, less than a millimeter in diameter.

Lu Xingzhou placed the water glass on the corner of the table and squatted down.

He first took out the prescriptions from her arms one by one, folded them, and placed them on the table. He didn't touch the tiger-head shoes. Her fingers were clenched too tightly. He tried twice but didn't dare to pull hard, afraid of waking her up.

He put one arm under her knees and supported her back with the other, and slowly stood up.

Su Nianci snuggled into his arms, mumbled two indistinct syllables, and didn't wake up.

He carried her into the bedroom and placed her on the bed. He pulled the blanket up from her feet to her chin, leaving her hand, which was clutching the tiger-head shoe, sticking out of the blanket. He folded the corner of the blanket over her hand and the tiger-head shoe together.

He stood by the bed for a while, looking at the tear stains on her face that hadn't completely dried and that faint smile.

Then he turned around, walked to his desk, picked up a pen, tore off a piece of sticky paper, and wrote a line.

Place the sticky note next to her pillow, under the ear of the tiger-head shoe.

Turn off the lights and lie down.

The next morning, when Su Nianci woke up, the light coming through the gap in the curtains was already blindingly white.

She blinked twice, turned her head, and saw a piece of paper under the ear of the tiger-head shoe on her pillow.

She pulled out the paper.

Lu Xingzhou's characters are square and upright, with each stroke firmly pressed down.

Your dad knew you before I did, but the rest of the journey is mine.

Su Nianci held the note and looked at it for a long time, so long that the light coming through the curtains turned from white to gold, shining on the note and on the corners of her mouth that were turned up in a smile.

Banxia's voice came from downstairs.

"Mom! Dad put my sweater on backwards again!"

Lu Xingzhou's voice came from downstairs, sounding a little unsure: "It's not reversed, this collar is supposed to be like this."

"No way! The labels are all over the place!"

"That's design; you wouldn't understand."

"Mom, come down! Dad's lying!"

Su Nianci folded the note and stuffed it into the belly of the tiger-head shoe, squeezing it together with the old cotton.

She threw back the covers, got out of bed, walked to the top of the stairs, and looked down.

Banxia stood in the middle of the living room, the tag on her sweater collar gleaming in front of her chest, her hands on her hips.

Lu Xingzhou squatted down in front of her, holding the hem of the sweater in his hand, trying to stuff the tag inside.

"Stop stuffing it in, it'll only make it crooked." Su Nianci leaned against the stair railing.

Lu Xingzhou looked up at her, his hand pausing for a moment: "You're awake?"

"Um."

"My eyes are swollen."

"Know."

He glanced at her for two seconds, then lowered his head and continued to struggle with Banxia's sweater.

Banxia turned her head to look up at the stairs: "Mom, what's wrong with your eyes?"

"I was looking at things for too long last night."

"What are you looking at?"

"Something your grandfather wrote."

Banxia tilted her head: "Did Grandpa write you a letter?"

Su Nianci walked down the stairs, squatted down in front of Banxia, ​​took off her sweater from her head, turned it inside out, and put it back on, with the tag obediently back in the back of her neck.

"It's not a letter." She smoothed out the loose thread at Banxia's collar. "It's a prescription."

"Prescription? For whom?"

"It's for your mother."

Banxia blinked: "Is Mommy sick?"

"No." Su Nianci tucked Banxia's hair behind her ear. "Your grandfather was worried that your mother would get sick in the future, so he prepared all the medicine in advance."

Banxia thought for a moment, then took out a piece of candy from her pocket and handed it over: "Then I'll also prepare a piece of candy for Mom, so she can eat it when she's unhappy."

Su Nianci took the candy and held it in her hand.

Lu Xingzhou stood to the side, his hands in his pockets, watching them. The curve of his lips was very similar to the smile on her face last night.

Su Nianci stood up and walked up to him.

"I saw the note."

"Um."

"It's not bad."

"improvise."

She lowered her head and chuckled softly, so softly that Banxia didn't hear it.

"Let's go, time for breakfast."

Lu Xingzhou hummed in agreement and turned to walk towards the kitchen.

Banxia chased after him and tugged at his sleeve: "Dad, are you wearing my sweater inside out again today?"

"I'm not wearing it anymore. Your mom will let you wear it tomorrow."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm in charge of writing the notes."

"What note?"

You'll understand when you grow up.

Banxia pouted and ran to Su Nianci's side, pulling her hand: "Mom, Dad is saying those things I can't understand again."

Su Nianci led her by the hand toward the kitchen, her other hand still clutching the candy tightly between her fingers.

"That's just how your dad is; he never says half of what he means."

"And what about the other half?"

"The other half goes without saying," Su Nianci glanced down at her, "just make it."

The sound of dishes clattering came from the kitchen, and Lu Xingzhou called out from inside.

"The porridge is getting cold. If you don't come soon, I'll throw it away."

"They're here."