All the longing, worry, and fear inside her turned into aggrieved tears, pouring out uncontrollably.
A belly full of words to say, yet at this moment, she couldn’t utter a single one.
“Tao! Don’t cry!” Zhou Zhijun stepped to the bedside in one stride, bending down to wipe the tears from her face.
His whole body was wrapped in the chill of the outdoors, but his hands were warm. The moment his fingertips touched her skin, Chun Tao’s body trembled violently, and finally, she choked out three words, “Brother Zhijun!”
“Tao, it’s all right. Everything’s over now. From now on, we can be together openly, openly have children…”
The frost in Zhou Zhijun’s eyes melted into a spring of water, warmed by the joy spilling from the corners of his eyes. His voice was firm yet tender, like a gentle stream flowing through the fields on a spring day.
Chun Tao looked at him, her lips trembling. “Really?”
Zhou Zhijun gripped her hand tightly and said in a deep voice, “Really. The marriage certificate and the birth permit—I’ve gotten them all done!”
With that, he pulled from the inner pocket of his cotton-padded jacket two folded red papers and a yellow paper the size of Zhou Zhijun’s palm.
“This is the marriage certificate!” Zhou Zhijun opened one first, pointing at the words. “Look, ‘Zhou Zhijun and Li Chun Tao, voluntarily married as husband and wife!’”
He then pointed to the spot for the photo and said, “We’ll get the photo added later when we go back!”
Chun Tao had never been to school, but as a child, she had learned to recognize quite a few characters from Yang Weiming. She could read all the words on the red paper.
It was real—they had officially registered their marriage!
The man she married was the one she truly cherished from the bottom of her heart, the one who truly cherished her back, the father of the child in her belly.
Joy and excitement surged in her chest, but she was too shy to express it, her small face flushing bright red.
One of her hands unconsciously stroked the other red paper, the mist of tears in her eyes long gone, replaced only by timid shyness.
“Two copies—one for each of us. I’ll keep them safe for you!” Zhou Zhijun folded the red papers carefully and tucked them back into the inner pocket of his cotton jacket.
Then he picked up the yellow paper. “Tao, and this is the birth permit from the Qingshan Commune Family Planning Office!
See the official stamp at the bottom? With this, we’ve got nothing to fear!”
Zhou Zhijun had always been steady and rarely smiled, but now he was like a kid who’d gotten his hands on candy, his eyes brimming with excitement.
“Tao, when the snow stops and the weather clears, I’ll take you home and we’ll throw a proper wedding banquet! Next year after the baby’s born, we’ll have another feast!”
He crouched by the bed, holding Chun Tao’s small hands in both of his, bringing them to his mouth and breathing warm air on them. His eyes and heart were completely filled with her, forgetting entirely that the bewildered Zhou Xiaowei was still standing nearby.
Zhou Xiaowei stood frozen, the enamel teacup still in his hands.
Just moments ago, seeing his Second Uncle return safely had finally eased the worry that had weighed on him for days. But now the scene before him twisted his heart with pain.
Watching Zhou Zhijun bend down to wipe Chun Tao’s tears, watching those two red booklets that blazed so brightly, his vision went dark and then white.
“Be together openly,”
“have children,”
“throw a banquet”… Each word hammered into his heart, his ears ringing with a dull roar.
He had heard earlier about his Second Uncle and Chun Tao, and he knew the child in her belly was Second Uncle’s. He had forced himself to accept it, but when this warm, intimate scene was right there before his eyes, the ache in his chest was overwhelming.
That sour, numbing pain spread from his chest to the tip of his nose, and his eyes suddenly burned hot.
He had fallen in love with Chun Tao the very first time he saw her.
She was the gentlest girl he had ever met. As long as he could see her every day, life itself felt sweet.
After Chuntao left the Wang family, the longing in his heart grew stronger and stronger, and he thought about sending a matchmaker to propose and marry her.
He never imagined that Chuntao's heart was already taken by someone else, and that someone was his Second Uncle.
Watching the tenderness his Second Uncle couldn't hide in his eyes, watching the happy and shy expression on Chuntao's face—one he had never seen before—he wanted to turn and leave, but his feet felt as if they were nailed to the ground, unable to move.
All he could do was watch helplessly as his Second Uncle kissed Chuntao's fair hand, watched her cheeks flush red; it was the first time he had ever seen her look so joyful.
Grievance, disappointment, and an indescribable bitterness clogged his throat, unable to be spat out or swallowed down.
He pressed his lips tightly together, not even daring to breathe, and abruptly turned his head away, unable to look any longer.
His heart felt hollow, as if a piece had been cruelly ripped out. The cold wind from outside crept through the cracks in the door curtain, making him shiver all over.
He couldn't help but tremble, and the tin mug in his hand crashed to the ground with a clatter, splashing water everywhere.
The sharp sound of the mug hitting the floor made Zhou Zhijun and Chuntao turn around at the same time.
Zhou Zhijun was still holding Chuntao's hand, his brows slightly furrowed as he looked up at Zhou Xiaowei, who stood frozen in place. The tenderness in his eyes faded a little.
Chuntao quickly pulled her hand back, her blush vanishing instantly. Flustered, she turned her face away to look out the window at the vast, heavy snow.
Her fingers clutched the quilt cover tightly, the tips of her ears burning, her breath slowing for a moment.
Zhou Xiaowei was also startled by the noise. He quickly bent down to pick up the mug, stammering, "I, I slipped... didn't hold it steady... I'll wash it and pour another cup..."
He picked up the dented mug and turned to leave, but Zhou Zhijun's cold voice came from behind, even chillier than the wind outside: "Xiaowei, remember, from now on, call her Second Aunt."
"I know," Zhou Xiaowei replied, but his throat felt as if it were stuffed with cotton; he couldn't bring himself to say the words "Second Aunt."
He ran to the kitchen, washed the mug, mixed a cup of malted milk, and handed it to Chuntao.
Zhou Zhijun reached out, took it, and personally gave it to Chuntao. "Drink some; warm yourself up."
Zhou Xiaowei stood by, feeling deeply uncomfortable, and quickly added, "Second Uncle, I'll pour you a bowl too, to warm you up!"
With that, he turned and headed back into the kitchen, grabbed a coarse porcelain bowl, poured some hot water, and brought it over.
"Xiaowei, when did you arrive?" Zhou Zhijun asked in a low voice, taking a sip of the hot water.
"A few days ago, Grandma told me to come and warn you, afraid that Liu Cuilan and Baldy Zhang might cause trouble. But on the way, they caught me..." Zhou Xiaowei lowered his head and recounted everything about being kidnapped and the ordeal of the past few days.
Zhou Zhijun's eyes immediately darkened, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fist. His tone was serious: "Xiaowei, we owe you a lot these past few days."
At his words, Zhou Xiaowei's nose stung and his eyes grew hot again. He held back tears, his voice hoarse as he said, "Second Uncle, as long as you're safe, that's enough."
Aunt Zhou was in the next room keeping Second Aunt Zhou company, dozing off at the edge of the bed. Hearing their voices, she rubbed her eyes and walked over.
The moment she saw Zhou Zhijun, the worry on her face vanished, and she forced a smile. "Zhijun, you're back!"
"Mother," Zhou Zhijun said, standing up and helping Aunt Zhou sit on the edge of the bed.
"Mother, Tao and I have already gotten our marriage certificate and the birth permit. From now on, we're not afraid of anything."
Aunt Zhou’s heart had been in a knot the whole time. She hadn’t dared imagine the worst, but neither had she allowed herself to hope everything would go smoothly just to get the marriage certificate.
Now that Zhou Zhijun had returned safely, holding the little red booklet, joy carved her crow’s feet even deeper.
“Wonderful! Wonderful! Once the snow lets up, we’ll head home and throw you a grand wedding banquet!”
She took Chuntao’s hand again, rubbing it with tender care. “Tao, you’ve suffered. From now on, no more suffering for you.”
Aunt Zhou’s lips smiled, but her heart still clenched.
Part of her rejoiced for Zhijun and Chuntao, while another part ached for Liu Xianghua, and she worried even more about her younger sister’s health.
These past few days she had lost her appetite for tea and food, her whole frame had thinned. Thinking of it all, the joy at the corners of her eyes gradually faded.
Just then, a timid voice called from outside the door, “Mother…”
It was Liu Ergen.
The moment Aunt Zhou heard that voice, her face darkened. A surge of fiery anger rose in her chest. She couldn’t be bothered to respond, and merely waved at Zhou Xiaowei, signaling him to go out and see.
The instant Zhou Xiaowei turned and left the inner room, Liu Ergen barged in with his wife Zhao Qiaoling. They didn’t spare Zhou Xiaowei a glance and rushed straight toward Second Aunt Zhou’s room.
Once inside, Liu Ergen pulled a sheet of paper and a box of red ink pad from his chest, shoving them into Zhao Qiaoling’s hands.
Then his hand shot abruptly into the bedding, seized Second Aunt Zhou’s hand, and yanked it out.
