Rain fell softly outside, tapping gently on the windows like tiny fingers drumming a lullaby. The Shen family's grand estate felt even quieter than usual. The halls, so big and echoing, seemed wrapped in mist and silence.
Lian Yue sat on a cushion by the window, her teddy bear snug in her lap. She wore a pale pink dress today, with tiny white flowers stitched along the collar and sleeves. Her feet were in soft slippers that made no sound when she walked. Her cheeks were rosy, her round face framed by neatly braided pigtails tied with little white bows.
She watched the raindrops slide down the windowpane. Outside, the garden where she had played the day before was soaked and glistening, puddles forming under the big trees.
"Rain, rain," she whispered softly, drawing little circles on the glass with her finger. Her teddy bear sat beside her, propped up to watch too.
But soon, she grew bored of the quiet window.
"Brother Tinglan…" she murmured, standing up and holding her teddy bear close.
Her small feet padded across the cold floor as she wandered down the hallway. The house felt enormous to her—every door taller than she could reach, and every hallway like a maze.
She peeked into one of the sitting rooms and saw Shen Tinglan inside.
He sat on a thick cushion by a low table, a large book open in front of him. He was dressed in a soft gray robe today, simple and neat, with dark blue trim. His black hair was a little messy, still damp from the morning when he had gone outside with his father briefly. The rain had caught them by surprise.
Lian Yue stayed near the doorway, peeking in quietly.
Tinglan looked up.
Their eyes met.
He didn't speak, just watched her.
Lian Yue clutched her bear tighter and stepped closer, slowly.
"Can I… sit here?" she asked in a tiny voice, pointing to the empty cushion beside him.
He nodded once, calm as always. "Mm."
She tiptoed over, careful not to disturb anything, and sat down beside him, placing her bear on her lap again. The room smelled faintly of old paper and rain.
Tinglan turned a page in his book. He didn't tell her to go away. He didn't say much at all. But Lian Yue didn't mind. She liked being near him, even if he was quiet.
"What are you reading?" she asked softly.
"A story," he said without looking up.
She leaned a little closer, eyes wide. "Is it about animals?"
He turned the book so she could see. A small drawing showed a fox with big eyes standing in a forest.
"This fox got lost," Tinglan explained. "He wandered far from home."
Her mouth formed a small "o." "Did he cry?"
"No," Tinglan said, glancing at her. "He didn't cry. He kept walking."
She smiled. "Was he brave?"
"Yes."
Lian Yue looked down at her bear. "My bear is brave too."
Tinglan gave a small nod. "But you cry sometimes."
She pouted slightly. "Only a little bit."
He reached out and gently pinched her cheek. "Still round."
She giggled and wiggled away.
As Tinglan read aloud quietly, she listened carefully, eyes wide at every picture. His voice was calm, even, like a soft stream. After a while, her head began to droop, and she leaned gently against his arm.
Tinglan looked down at her.
She was sleepy.
She's not noisy, he thought. Just small. And soft.
He didn't move away.
After some time, Liu Yuyan entered with a small tray of warm milk and sweet buns.
"There you two are," she said softly, smiling as she saw them. "The rain makes everything sleepy, doesn't it?"
Lian Yue looked up sleepily and rubbed her eyes.
"Come, Yue Yue, have some milk."
She waddled over, taking the cup with both hands. "Thank you, Auntie Yuyan."
Liu Yuyan knelt beside her, gently brushing her damp hair back. She looked at the little girl with warm, loving eyes—the kind of look only a mother could give.
"You're such a good girl," she whispered. "I've always wanted a daughter, you know. And now, I finally have one."
Lian Yue blinked up at her. "I'm your daughter?"
Liu Yuyan smiled and kissed her forehead. "Yes. Just like that."
Tinglan stood nearby, watching silently. He didn't say anything, but in his quiet way, he understood.
Lian Yue sipped her milk happily, cheeks warm.
Today was quiet.
But she liked days like this.
Because she wasn't alone anymore.