The courtyard was filled with mist, and in the haze were beautiful flowers emitting a faint fragrance. The swing in the courtyard had been wet by the rain, and the girl pouted as she stepped over the petals falling in the mud and ran all the way to the corridor.
Ruhua was waiting for her at the corridor. She was soaked and had a trail of water marks behind her. "My dear, where have you been? It's so hard for me to find you."
Hanzhen pouted and said, "The swing is wet."
Ruhua took her wet hand and walked eastward: "It's still raining, young lady, you are not afraid of catching a cold."
"I like rainy days." Han Zhen looked up at her. She sneezed three times in a row while speaking.
Ruhua smiled and scratched her nose, saying meaningfully, "Young lady, are you trying to avoid your homework?"
Hanzhen lowered her head after hearing this, and muttered, "Sister Ruhua, don't say it out loud..." Ruhua couldn't help but lean over and whispered something in her ear. Hanzhen listened with her dark eyes rolling around. After a long while, she clapped her hands and laughed.
Zhao Pei sat down at the desk, while Zi Ye stood beside her quietly grinding ink. A figure flashed by the door, and before she could see who it was, she heard her call out in a crisp voice, "Mom."
Zhao Pei raised her eyes and saw the girl with a smiling face running up to her and greeting her belly in a serious manner: "Hello, brother."
He glared at Hanzhen, but still pulled her into his arms and wiped the water stains on her face, whether it was rain or sweat. "Where have you been naughty again? You said you would write well today. How come you are gone?" Ziye had ground the ink and left.
"Writing is boring... These characters are... too difficult for me." Hanzhen stuck out her tongue, her face gradually flushed. She blinked her eyes, looked at Zhaopei with a teasing smile and said softly: "Isn't mother the same? Sister Ruhua said that mother often skipped classes and hid in a corner when she was a child."
Zhao Pei was stunned, then she looked embarrassed and stammered: "I just listened to her nonsense. Mom was very well behaved when she was little."
"But my aunt and uncle also said that mom was very naughty when she was young, even more naughty than Zhen'er." Han Zhen smiled, with a teasing look on her face. Such an expression made Zhao Pei unable to believe that she was just a three-year-old child.
Zhao Pei seemed to be exposed, and felt very embarrassed. But she said: "You are such a troublesome little girl, hurry up and practice calligraphy! Your father couldn't write when he was your age."
Hanzhen raised her eyebrows and climbed onto the chair. She picked up the pen and licked the ink in a serious manner. She turned around and looked at Zhaopei: "Mother, what are you going to write?"
Zhao Pei smiled: "Write whatever you can. Let's see what you have learned in the past few days. If you make a mistake, you have to draw a circle." Her smile was cold, and Han Zhen couldn't help but shudder. Drawing circles was a trick Zhao Pei came up with on a whim. This girl was not afraid of anything except having dirt on her face. When she made a mistake, Zhao Pei didn't beat her or scold her, but just drew circles on her face with a brush. The number of circles and the time of the scratch depended on the size of the mistake, and it worked every time.
Hanzhen began to write, stroke by stroke, very slowly. Her round face suddenly became extremely serious and focused. Zhaopei stared at her intently, feeling warm in her heart. Her daughter must be a rare talent.
His eyes touched the pen, ink, paper and inkstone, and he thought of something and sighed helplessly, lowering his eyes. Today was supposed to be a poetry and prose meeting, and also... the day when the prince would return. But he couldn't go, not because he couldn't go, but because he didn't dare to go.
"Mom, I've finished writing." Hanzhen put down her pen and smiled as she held up the paper for Zhaopei to see. She suddenly came to her senses and leaned forward to take a look. On the paper were some simple names of people, objects, and places, including Zhaopei, Ruhua, Ziye, Lanling, Jiankang, Xiaoyi, and... Xiaotong.
Zhao Pei was stunned for a long while and murmured, "Who taught you this word?" She stretched out her hand to point at Xiao Tong's name, but quickly withdrew her hand after touching it, as if she had been burned.
Hanzhen pursed her lips and puffed up the flesh on her cheeks. After thinking for a moment, she smiled and said, "Zhen'er saw a piece of paper in the book beside her bed, and it was all written with this name." Zhaopei's hands and feet suddenly turned cold, and she dared not breathe. She stared at Hanzhen's tender face and suddenly realized the terribleness of children's unbridled words. Hanzhen saw Zhaopei's strange expression, and her eyes turned and said, "Did mother write this specifically for Zhen'er to let Zhen'er practice calligraphy?"
After Zhao Pei calmed down, she pulled her to her side and said solemnly: "Zhen'er, you must not say or write these two words in front of others, understand? Otherwise... Mother will..."
Zhao Pei knew Han Zhen was still too young to understand the reasons, but she still warned her so seriously. Zhen Er didn't say anything, staring into her eyes as if thinking. Zhao Pei's eyes were filled with complex emotions, four parts seriousness, three parts nervousness, two parts sadness, and one part tears. Han Zhen stared at her for a long time, and suddenly raised her voice and said, "Mother, if Zhen Er tells others about this, will I have to draw circles on Zhen Er's face?"
Zhao Pei nodded: "Yes. I painted Zhen'er's face and left her alone for half a year!"
Hanzhen immediately covered her face and cried out in shock: "Ah, mother! You are so cruel! Zhen'er will never tell anyone, Zhen'er, don't make circles."
Zhao Pei was relieved and seemed to want to say something, but suddenly the door creaked open. Zhao Pei looked over and saw the tall figure standing at the door. He stared at the two people in the room with a smile on his stern face and said in a low voice: "I'm back."
Zhao Pei felt guilty like a thief. She shook the brush and it fell onto the paper, with the ink just covering the words "Xiao Tong".
Hanzhen cheered, jumped off the chair and ran over, throwing herself into Xiao Yi's arms and shouting, "Dad, you're back. Zhen'er missed you so much."
Xiao Yi raised the corner of his mouth, stretched out his hand and held her in his arms: "Zhen'er, what are you doing?"
"Writing." Hanzhen pointed to the desk and smiled. "Mom said that if you don't write well, she will draw circles on Zhener's face." Hanzhen complained and pouted.
Xiao Yi smiled lightly, holding her and walking to the desk, his eyes locked on Zhao Pei, finally stopping at her belly. His voice softened: "You've been out for two months, are you okay?"
Zhao Pei's heart was still beating wildly, and she lowered her eyes as if she had done something bad, avoiding his burning gaze: "It's fine. It's just that the child is too noisy." As soon as she finished speaking, Han Zhen immediately followed up: "Dad, aunt and uncle all said that Mom was exactly like Zhen'er when she was a child."
Xiao Yi laughed softly, and Zhao Pei stared at her and threatened her: "You little girl, get out of my sight right now or I'll draw circles on your face!"
Hanzhen stuck out her tongue and got out of Xiao Yi's arms, and ran out without saying a word. When she ran to the door, she turned around and made a face, and flicked the bead curtain, making a particularly crisp and loud tinkling sound.
Zhao Pei shook her head: "This child..." Then she looked up and took a good look at Xiao Yi. After not seeing him for two months, he had become thinner and darker, but his brows were more resolute and his eyes were more profound. The deep black eyes were full of stars and rolled up surging waves.
Zhao Pei couldn't stand his condescending gaze, so she stood up with a smile: "Are you tired? I'll ask someone to make you some bird's nest porridge."
She was about to pass him by, but he suddenly pulled her in front of him and held her in his arms. He didn't dare to use force, but gently hugged her, buried his nose in her fragrant black hair and breathed deeply.
"Did you miss me?" The deep voice was filled with longing, and the heat tickled her ears, making her heart itch. Zhao Pei leaned on his solid chest, smiled and nodded gently: "Yeah. What about you?"
"Hmm..." He also responded, "Is he still behaving well? Did he make trouble for you?"
Zhao Pei understood that "he" referred to the baby in her belly, and said, "He is very well behaved and rarely bothers me. But Zhen'er keeps chattering." She gently broke free from his arms and said, "Sister Ming has been feeling unwell these days. She is listless and can't eat all day. Go and see her when you have time."
Xiao Yi sat down on the Arhat couch and stared at her with a half-smile: "You persuaded me to see another woman as soon as my husband came back?"
Zhao Pei gave him a scolding look: "We have lived together for so many years that we are half family. Besides, she is always alone... and lonely. Now she is sick, which makes her even more pitiful. It won't work if I go, but it will work if you go."
Xiao Yi did not respond. Seeing that there was still half a cup of tea on the table, he picked it up and sipped it. It was slightly cool but fragrant.
Zhao Pei also found a soft couch and leaned on it comfortably, playing with the jade pendant on her waist. One was deep in thought, the other was careless, this was the way they often spent time alone.
"Why didn't you go to the poetry and prose meeting today?" Xiao Yi suddenly asked her. Zhao Pei didn't even raise her head and replied, "I don't want to go."
After a long silence, Xiao Yi suggested, "Let's go together." Seeing that Zhao Pei didn't show any emotion, he said, "After all, this time is unusual. Big brother has been at the study desk for so long and finally compiled the "Selected Works of Literature". We should celebrate it. We should also go to join in the fun and let Zhen'er's younger brother get in touch with these poems and essays earlier."
It was rare for Xiao Yi to persuade Zhao Pei like this, and it was during Xiao Tong's poetry and prose meeting. Zhao Pei immediately stopped what she was doing, raised her eyes and stared at his calm face.
Silence. (To be continued)