Slow to mature after marriage

The next day, Zhou Yu'an boarded a plane to Haicheng.

Outside the porthole, the clouds churned, and the sunlight made the entire sky a blinding white.

She leaned back in her seat, her fingers unconsciously gripping the seatbelt, her knuckles turning white.

As the plane began its descent, a feeling of suffocation welled up in my chest.

It felt like something was churning inside her, stirring up all the fear, anticipation, and unacknowledged desires she thought she had long since suppressed. Zhou Yu'an's hands began to tremble, her fingertips turning icy cold.

Zhou Xubai sat down next to her, noticed her mood, and gently patted the back of her hand. "An'an, don't be nervous."

"Mom and Dad love you very much."

Zhou Yu'an looked at Zhou Xubai and nodded slightly.

She looked at that land that was both strange and familiar, and her eyelashes trembled slightly.

The plane pierced through the clouds, and the sky over Haicheng was a vibrant blue, as if it had been washed clean.

Arrive at the lobby.

Zhou Shuyan stood straight at the arrival gate, dressed in a suit and tie, his hair neatly combed. At fifty-four years old, his fingers trembled slightly at his sides with nervousness.

Shen Ruoqing stood beside him. Today she was wearing a light purple cheongsam with exquisite knotted buttons and a small orchid embroidered on the collar.

She was wearing makeup.

This was the first time in many years that Zhou Shuyan had seen his wife put on makeup on her own initiative. Her lipstick was a dusty rose color, her eyebrows were drawn with a thin, curved shape, and she had applied a light layer of blush to her cheeks.

Although Shen Ruoqing hadn't slept for several days since learning of her daughter's return, at this moment, she was radiant, like a tree that had been withered for a long time, suddenly sprinkled with water, and its branches and leaves unfurled.

But the thing she was holding in her hand was something Zhou Shuyan couldn't bear to look at.

"Qingqing," Zhou Shuyan lowered his voice, glancing around to make sure no one he knew was passing by before speaking with difficulty, "This... we don't need it, do we?"

Shen Ruoqing held up a light sign with both hands; the LED beads spelled out several large characters and a line of smaller characters—

"An'an, Daddy, Mommy, and Brother are here waiting for you to come home."

The small print even flashes, sometimes red and sometimes green. Next to it is a photo of Zhou Yu'an at the age of five on a carousel, laminated, covered with a waterproof film, and the corners are wrapped with several layers of tape, as if afraid it would fall off.

"You don't understand." Shen Ruoqing's gaze remained fixed on the exit. "Little girls these days all like this." She paused, her voice suddenly becoming tense. "Did I get lipstick on my teeth?"

"no."

"What about your hair? Is your hairstyle messy? I spent a long time fixing it this morning."

"no."

"Is the cheongsam too tight? Should I wear the looser one—"

"Qingqing." Zhou Shuyan reached out and grasped her hand that was holding the light sign. It was cold and trembling slightly. He comforted his wife, "You look beautiful right now."

Shen Ruoqing finally quieted down, but only for a few seconds. She tugged at her husband's sleeve again, "Here she comes! Isn't she the prettiest one, my darling—"

Zhou Shuyan followed her gaze. A young girl walked out of the exit, followed by Zhou Xubai.

Shen Ruoqing's tears fell instantly.

Zhou Yu'an saw them.

A pale purple cheongsam, mauve lipstick, arched eyebrows, and a pair of eyes that were red from crying but kept smiling.

Is it her... mother?

The woman waved to her excitedly.

Zhou Yu'an slowly walked over and stood in front of them, separated by a light board, feeling distant and awkward.

Shen Ruoqing looked at her face, at the light mole between her eyebrows, at the unfamiliarity and aloofness in her eyes—she was completely different from the little girl with braids in her memory, squatting in the garden watching ants move. But she knew, this was An'an. Her An'an, her beautiful baby.

Shen Ruoqing subconsciously took half a step forward, then stopped. She raised her hand, curled her fingertips, and then lowered it again.

"An'an," Shen Ruoqing asked cautiously, "Mommy—can Mommy hug you?"

Before Zhou Yu'an could answer, Shen Ruoqing had already hugged her.

The light sign fell to the ground with a clatter, the LED lights still flashing red and green, illuminating the feet of several people. Shen Ruoqing's hands were tightly clasped, as if afraid that if she loosened her grip, the person in her arms would disappear from her world again, just like twenty-one years ago. Her tears flowed uncontrollably, soaking Zhou Yu'an's shoulder.

"An'an, Mommy misses you so much. I really miss you."

Zhou Yu'an stood frozen in place.

Her hands hung limply at her sides, like a robot that hadn't been programmed, receiving the instruction to hug but not knowing how to carry it out.

Zhou Yu'an could sense the woman's enduring and long-standing love for him.

She felt completely lost and confused.

Zhou Shuyan slowly stepped forward. He didn't speak, but simply raised his hand and pulled his wife and daughter into his arms.

Zhou Xubai stood behind for a few seconds, his eyes reddening. Without hesitation, he strode over, stretched out his arms, and wrapped his arms around the weight of all three of them.

A family of four. They huddled together in the bustling arrival hall of the airport.

After an unknown amount of time, Zhou Yu'an was already starting to have trouble breathing.

She had no choice but to slowly raise one hand. "Um—sorry, if I keep hugging you, I might experience chest tightness, dizziness, or even temporary loss of consciousness."