Zhou Shiyan was surprised by Liu Zhiyue’s response.
She studied his face as if trying to decipher his thoughts, but his expression gave nothing away. After a mont of silence, she asked another question.
“What kind of person do you think would suit your dad?”
“Well... she shouldn’t be much younger than him. Definitely needs to be gentle and caring, family-oriented, and... Wait, why am I even telling you this?”
Mid-sentence, Liu Zhiyue suddenly realized the oddity of the conversation and stared at Zhou Shiyan, puzzled.
For reasons he couldn’t quite understand, she seed unusually strange today.
Without replying, Zhou Shiyan picked up her pen, her gaze shifting back to the workbook on the coffee table.
In her heart, however, a tiny seed had been planted.
At ho, Zhou Shiyan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.
She had been in this position for quite so ti. The small room contained little more than a bed. Although old and worn, the bed was still comfortable enough for rest.
Her thoughts wandered.
She tilted her head slightly, looking at her mother, Lan Yixian, who sat at the edge of the bed, combing her hair.
Lost in thought, she watched as her mother ran the comb from the roots to the tips of her hair.
But the hair was tangled, and the comb snagged.
Lan Yixian tugged gently, then firmly, using her other hand to hold the hair above the knot. After so effort, the comb finally slid free.
She exhaled deeply.
“Tangled hair is so annoying...”
Hearing this, Zhou Shiyan spoke.
“Why don’t you get a hair treatnt, Mom?”
“Huh? Why would I waste money on that? It’s expensive,” Lan Yixian replied instantly, her tone dismissive.
To her, hair treatnts were an unnecessary extravagance.
Realizing her suggestion was poorly tid, Zhou Shiyan fell silent. She regretted bringing it up, knowing full well their financial situation. They had just paid off a large debt not long ago.
Fatherly love was sothing Zhou Shiyan had lacked since childhood.
In her vague mories of her father, Zhou Quan, she could only recall fragnts from her kindergarten years. Those mories were now blurred.
The days that followed were filled with darkness and debt collectors.
Even after her mother’s divorce, those people continued to haunt them, leading to her grandmother’s passing.
Her thoughts drifted to the first ti she t Liu Changqing.
She had accidentally spilled soy milk on his pants. Instead of scolding her, he reassured her, saying it was fine as long as she wasn’t hurt.
Then there was the second ti when he walked her ho after she was followed. He even endured her mother’s misunderstanding, leaving with a bruise on his forehead.
And the third ti... when he saved her life.
For reasons she couldn’t quite articulate, Liu Changqing felt reliable, a source of reassurance.
Especially when he spoke of his children—his love for them shone unmistakably in his eyes.
It must be wonderful to be his child, she thought.
These mories resurfaced vividly, as did the mont when Liu Changqing defended Liu Zhiyue after he was falsely accused of cheating.
He has a way of solving everything, she mused, her eyes growing brighter.
Glancing at her mother, she asked softly, “Mom, have you ever thought about finding soone new?”
The sound of the combing stopped abruptly.
Lan Yixian turned her head slowly, staring at her daughter in shock.
“What’s gotten into you today?”
After a mont’s hesitation, she leaned forward, placing a hand on Zhou Shiyan’s forehead to check her temperature.
Everything was normal.
Frowning, she asked, “Why are you talking nonsense?”
“I just think you’re working too hard on your own. My tuition fees are no small burden, and you won’t let get a part-ti job...”
“Stop saying things like that. You’re a child—your only job is to study,” Lan Yixian said, her rare sternness adding weight to her words.
Zhou Shiyan stared at her mother.
She knew her mother’s façade well.
In the past, she had often found her crying alone at night.
Her gaze fird with resolve.
“Soone broke into our ho last ti,” she said quietly.
Lan Yixian froze.
The authoritative expression she had been trying to maintain dissolved into shock.
“W-what do you an soone broke in?”
“It wasn’t a debt collector. It was a stranger with an iron rod. He tried to kill ,” Zhou Shiyan said evenly, as though recounting soone else’s story.
Lan Yixian sprang to her feet, her voice sharp.
“He tried to what?!”
“Mm,” Zhou Shiyan nodded, her tone calm. “Uncle Liu told not to say anything to avoid worrying you. The man who broke in was the sa one who had followed after night classes.”
“Were you hurt?”
Lan Yixian rushed forward, cupping her daughter’s face and inspecting it closely.
Zhou Shiyan was about to push her mother’s hands away when she saw the tears brimming in her mother’s eyes.
A drop fell onto her cheek, startling her.
“Mom...”
“If Liu Changqing told you not to say anything, you just listened? I’m your mother...” Lan Yixian’s voice trembled as more tears fell.
Her sobs grew louder as she cradled her daughter’s face.
Seeing her mother’s emotional breakdown, Zhou Shiyan sat up and hugged her tightly, resting her head against her chest.
Her mother’s warmth, softness, and the rhythmic beating of her heart comforted her.
“Uncle Liu has already taken care of everything. But... you did hit him with that iron rod last ti...”
“What should I do?” Lan Yixian asked between sniffles, her voice tinged with guilt.
She vividly recalled the ti she struck Liu Changqing, leaving him with a visible bruise.
The man had saved her child, bought them breakfast nurous tis, and even accepted paynt for it—how mortifying!
Lan Yixian couldn’t imagine facing Liu Changqing again.
Still resting against her mother, Zhou Shiyan’s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as she softly suggested, “Why don’t you invite Uncle Liu to dinner?”
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