Sheng Fang, the little one, had lost his memory and then regained it.
On tiptoe, before pushing open the hospital room door handle, he whispered to Zhu Qing in a tiny voice, "Qing-jie teaches kids to tell tall tales."
Zhu Qing was momentarily speechless.
She was completely wrapped around this child's finger.
In the recovery ward, Sheng Peirong already knew she was about to be discharged and leaned by the window, lost in thought.
Professor Luo had informed her of the test results ahead of time, so she waited. She had assumed the discharge procedures would take at least until her daughter finished handling the move, but to her surprise, Zhu Qing arrived that very day with Sheng Fang at the hospital room door.
They were eager to take her home, unwilling to wait even a single day longer.
All these years, Sheng Peirong had lived in a room at Jianuo'an Sanatorium. Her accumulated belongings had been gradually moved out, leaving only a suitcase and her, quietly waiting.
Sheng Fang's small hands struggled with the suitcase handle as he circled it insistently, determined to help.
The tiny figure darted around Zhu Qing, weaving in front of her until she nearly tripped over him several times. Finally, she simply lifted him onto the suitcase.
"Sit tight," Zhu Qing said. "No more 'helping'!"
"Wah—!" Sheng Fang cheered, raising his hands. "Suitcase race car!"
He always knew Qing-jie was a legendary driver.
"Sheng Fang…" Zhu Qing seized the moment to lean closer. "I never taught you to tell tall tales."
"Got it."
"Honesty is most important!"
"Got it, got it."
"And also—"
"Qing-jie," Sheng Fang blinked, "you sound guilty."
Zhu Qing was stumped and could only resort to ruffling his chubby little cheeks.
Nearby, Nurse Dai shook her head with a smile, packing the last few items into a bag.
Sheng Peirong sat in her wheelchair, turning to look at the tightly shut hospital room door.
The elevator dinged, and the wheelchair was rolled out—this time, finally, not toward the rehabilitation department.
Zhu Qing loaded the suitcase into the trunk, settled Sheng Fang into the back seat, then carefully supported her mother's arm to help her into the car.
Over the years, Sheng Peirong had grown alarmingly thin, but after two months of rehab—thanks to the care of the hospital staff and Aunt Ping—her complexion had improved. Holding the car door, she could now muster some strength on her own.
The passenger seat offered a clear view. Sheng Peirong slowly fastened her seatbelt and looked back.
Nurse Dai repeated the post-discharge instructions, though they were all in the documents she had filed away. Still, she patiently went over them again. The clatter of the folding wheelchair and her warm reminders drifted into the car with the winter breeze.
Sheng Peirong didn’t know what had happened during her years of unconsciousness, but she vividly remembered the day she was admitted—the weather had been just like this. Back then, she had been utterly hopeless, her body and mind deteriorating until she believed she would spend the rest of her days there. Yet now, her daughter adjusted her seatbelt, and her little brother hummed a playful children’s song in the back.
The car started moving slowly.
In the rearview mirror, the gates of Jianuo'an Sanatorium grew smaller and smaller, finally disappearing around the bend.
"I’ll miss Sister Mandy, Sister Lulu, Nurse Dai, and Nurse Shen…" Sheng Fang said. "Qing-jie, we should give them commendation banners!"
Sheng Peirong chuckled.
Wasn’t this a case of "no one knows a sister like her brother"?
Days earlier, Sheng Peirong had privately discussed this with her daughter.
Beyond customizing banners to express gratitude, she had also consulted a lawyer about establishing a special fund to support rehabilitation for more coma patients.
"You little rascal," Zhu Qing laughed. "How do you know everything?"
"Rude!" Sheng Fang retorted in his tiny voice. "I’m your uncle, you know."
"I’m the adult here!"
"Big sis, control your daughter…"
As the uncle-nephew pair bickered beside her, Sheng Peirong turned her face toward the warm sunlight.
This road home—she felt as if she had dreamed it a thousand times.
...
The black SUV slowly entered the tree-lined path of Kadouri Hill.
Throughout the ride, Sheng Peirong pressed against the window, fascinated by everything. In the past, she had always buried herself in paperwork during car rides, barely looking up. Now, as her gaze swept over every blade of grass and tree along the road, she realized how beautiful the scenery outside had always been.
"Mom, we’re home," Zhu Qing said softly.
Sheng Peirong followed her gaze into the distance.
In front of the standalone villa, Aunt Ping stood waiting at the entrance, her figure striking against the backdrop. Usually composed and patient, this time she paced back and forth on the steps until the engine’s sound sent her hurrying forward.
"You’re back, finally back…" Aunt Ping’s voice trembled as she fumbled to open the car door, even shielding Sheng Peirong’s head with her hand. "Careful, don’t bump yourself."
Then, remembering she had forgotten to fetch the shawl, she turned to rush inside—only for Sheng Peirong to gently grasp her shaking hand.
"Aunt Ping," Sheng Peirong said warmly, "I’m better now. Don’t treat me like a patient anymore."
The wheelchair rolled across the gleaming floor. The house had been meticulously arranged—her daughter guided her through each room while her little brother trotted after them on short legs. Sheng Peirong still felt dazed, as if waking from a long sleep only to find herself still dreaming.
The wheelchair stopped at Sheng Peirong’s room.
The house had no elevator, and Aunt Ping smiled. "Seems Young Master worried for nothing. The lady of the house can’t go upstairs yet."
Sheng Fang tilted his head with a grin.
The master bedroom was spacious and bright, with a soothing view outside.
On the nightstand, a familiar photo frame stood quietly—one Zhu Qing had brought back days earlier. In it, a gentle, jade-like smile was forever preserved. Sheng Peirong’s fingers traced the frame, lingering on her husband’s face as her eyes welled up.
Zhu Qing crouched before her mother, looking up like a child.
She said, Mom probably doesn’t remember, but the night before the surgery, we made a promise.
If she woke up, their family—
Would take another family photo together.
"Put it right here," Sheng Fang pointed beside the family portrait. "Next to brother-in-law’s photo, so he won’t be lonely."
"Yes, yes… We’ll take another family photo." Sheng Peirong tilted her head slightly, holding back tears.
On such a joyous day, she shouldn’t cry.
"Keke," Sheng Peirong suddenly said, "how about sleeping with Mom tonight?"
Before she finished, a small figure dashed forward.
"No way!" Sheng Fang planted his hands on his hips, his face scrunching like a tiny bun. "Big sis just got back, and now you’re stealing Qing-jie!"
Sheng Fang was a sensible child—his sister had just been discharged, so she deserved priority.
What was the solution?
"Unless all three of us sleep together."
"In that case... we shouldn’t have bothered buying a house."
"After all, Fangfang is so tiny—he can sleep anywhere we stuff him—"
Laughter rippled through the room.
Sheng Peirong sniffed the air. "Aunt Ping, what’s cooking? It smells amazing."
"Oh!" Aunt Ping smacked her forehead. "I almost forgot!"
The hurried sound of Aunt Ping’s slippers pattering against the wooden floor filled the room—a rhythmic, homely cadence.
Sheng Peirong felt grateful for everything she had now.
At this moment, the warmth stretched endlessly, yet it still felt too fleeting, never enough.
...
The old-fashioned soup in the copper pot bubbled vigorously, its steam blurring the smiling faces of the family.
This was their first reunion dinner in their new home, eaten slowly, savored for as long as possible.
Aunt Ping had already flipped through several pages of her notebook, jotting down supplies for future gatherings.
A grill, folding chairs, an ice bucket... With the move, there were too many things left to buy.
"Let’s all go to the supermarket for a big shopping trip!" Sheng Fang declared, waving his chopsticks.
"Nannan loves lychee soda," Zhu Qing added. "And Sister-in-law likes—"
"Don’t forget to buy cotton candy for Fangfang!" Sheng Fang reminded.
Aunt Ping kept scribbling away.
Her reading glasses slid down her nose, and she pushed them back up before continuing, more focused than a student in class.
"Qingqing, do Hao Zai and Xu Jiale like meat?" Aunt Ping muttered. "I’ll go to the market a day early to get fresh cuts and marinate them, so when the time comes..."
Sheng Peirong quietly pulled her younger brother aside. "Are all your colleagues coming?"
"Of course, every single one."
"Even Doctor Cheng?"
Sheng Fang waggled a finger mysteriously. "He’s away for further studies."
Sheng Peirong blinked in surprise.
"Big Sis," Sheng Fang sighed. "How do you not know anything?"
Sheng Peirong glanced at her daughter’s profile under the warm yellow light.
This clueless girl—even the toddlers in kindergarten were preparing for an upcoming gathering, and Fangfang had already made a "private deal" with Doctor Cheng. Yet she alone had never paused. Maybe Ke Ke had walked too far alone, so far that she’d forgotten how to stop. She had to adjust to the sudden rush of family affection while juggling one police case after another, never letting up. So, some questions—she simply hadn’t had time to consider.
"That’s how it should be," Sheng Peirong nodded. "Young people should prioritize their careers."
"Exactly!" Sheng Fang chimed in immediately.
This little one always managed to blend seamlessly with the adults.
No matter the topic, he could jump in with enthusiasm, even if his words were sometimes hilariously mismatched. But his earnest, grown-up demeanor made it all the more endearing.
Before long, Zhu Qing approached.
She placed a handmade pencil holder on Sheng Peirong’s bedside table.
Sheng Peirong eyed the oddly shaped object. "This is...?"
"Fangfang made it himself," Zhu Qing said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I’ve been using it for a while, but now it’s your turn."
"..." Sheng Peirong gingerly touched the two black strips on the holder. "And these are?"
"Cockroach antennae!" Sheng Fang wiggled his fingers by his ears like twitching feelers, then flapped his hands like wings. "A flying cockroach!"
Sheng Peirong stared at the lopsided, hideous pencil holder, forcing a stiff smile.
Aunt Ping, watching from the doorway, nearly laughed herself to tears.
At last, Zhu Qing had successfully passed the cursed pencil holder along.
Mother and daughter wore identical "get it away from me" expressions, while Sheng Fang beamed with pride.
They must love it so much they’re fighting over it!
"Too bad there’s only one," Sheng Fang declared, puffing out his chest. "You’ll have to share!"
...
On their first night in the new home, Sheng Fang snuggled between his big sister and niece, clutching his teddy bear.
The night was quiet, the two women whispering softly as the little boy turned left and right, his eyes sparkling, a constant grin on his face.
Sheng Fang excitedly thrust the teddy bear toward Sheng Peirong.
"Qingqing and I won this at Lai Chi Kok Amusement Park! She just—whoosh!" His tiny hand traced an arc in the air. "—and hooked it in one go!"
"Big Sis, do you know his name?"
Not even Zhu Qing had known the bear had a name.
"His name is Uncle Bear," Sheng Fang announced, cradling the toy’s face. "Because he looks like Uncle Li."
From that moment on, Zhu Qing could never look at "Uncle Bear" the same way again.
"Is Uncle Li also from the police station?"
"Yep! You’ll meet him on Saturday."
The three of them chatted idly as the night deepened.
Outside, the crickets quieted, but the moonlight remained bright.
To Sheng Fang, it was like a nightlight that never turned off, reminding him not to fall asleep.
But Zhu Qing’s hand gently brushed his forehead.
She told him it was okay to sleep—because from now on, they’d have countless nights like this.
Sheng Fang’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until finally, he dozed off, rolling onto his stomach and squashing poor Uncle Bear beneath him.
"Poor Uncle Bear," Zhu Qing chuckled.
"I’ll have to see for myself," Sheng Peirong said, amused. "Just how much this ‘Uncle Bear’ resembles Uncle Li."
...
The day Sheng Fang had been waiting for finally arrived.
His colleagues from the police station, having adjusted their shifts, arrived one after another, bearing gifts—knowing the family didn’t accept red envelopes, Xu Jiale and Hao Zai opted for a money tree, shouting from afar—
"Where should we put this?"
Aunt Ping hurried over. "In the yard, please."
Little Sun muttered, "Do they even need more wealth?"
Liang Qikai laughed. "Good question."
Zhu Qing and Sheng Fang stood at the door to greet their guests.
Sheng Fang was a natural at this, and his niece had picked up his hospitality skills.
"Just—" She cleared her throat, the rest of the phrase vanishing.
Zhu Qing’s tongue tied itself in knots.
Sheng Fang smoothly took over. "You didn’t have to bring anything—just come and have fun!"
Even when delivering polite formalities, the youngest member of the Sheng family sounded utterly sincere.
He was, without a doubt, the family’s most reliable little host.
This realization made Zhu Qing grip his hand tighter.
Without him by her side, she’d be lost.
The group chatted and laughed as they made their way inside.
"Let me properly experience this grand mansion!"
"Even more impressive than Inspector Weng’s place in Repulse Bay..."
The laughter died down the moment they stepped into the living room.
There, seated gracefully on the sofa, was Sheng Peirong. Instinctively, they lowered their voices.
A few young officers stole glances at the legendary eldest daughter of the Sheng family. During the investigation of the Mid-Levels skeleton case, they had heard her name mentioned daily. And now, she was right before them. Even after her recent recovery from illness, her innate aura commanded respect, making them naturally rein in their boisterous energy.
"Make yourselves at home!" Sheng Fang chirped, bouncing around enthusiastically. "Don’t stand on ceremony."
Sheng Peirong offered a warm smile in return.
She wanted to know everything about her daughter—Zhu Qing’s work, colleagues, friends...
She recognized many of them. The sweetly smiling Zeng Yongshan, the lean and efficient Xu Jiale, the gentle and polite Liang Qikai, and the ever-jovial Hao Zai. Finally, her gaze lingered on Uncle Li, mentally comparing him to the "Uncle Bear" plush in the bedroom.
This Uncle Li bore little resemblance to the stuffed toy.
What kind of eyesight did her little brother have?
The atmosphere quickly grew lively again.
When Mo Zhenbang arrived with his wife Lv Qiyun and their daughter Nannan, he first greeted Sheng Peirong.
She had heard countless stories from Zhu Qing about how considerate her superior was, and now she could finally put a face to the name.
As they exchanged pleasantries, Inspector Mo praised Zhu Qing’s outstanding performance when she first joined the police force, sounding like a proud teacher boasting about his star student.
Sheng Peirong’s smile deepened.
Of course, she knew the dangers of police work. But whenever Zhu Qing talked about cases, her eyes sparkled like stars—how could a mother not feel proud?
Without needing Aunt Ping’s help, the young officers swiftly set up the barbecue grill.
Laughter and chatter rose with the smoke. Sheng Fang, his little belly round from eating, ran around with skewers in hand until Zhu Qing caught him.
"Sheng Fang, no running with skewers!" She scooped him up. "It’s dangerous."
The little boy obediently handed her the skewers, then immediately dashed off again.
"Nannan!" He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Come play with me!"
Nannan, sipping lychee soda, shook her head.
Big girls didn’t play with little kids.
"Nannan! Come on!"
"Fine… just once."
Though she called herself a big girl, Nannan had only just started school.
Soon, she was fully immersed in the game, and the sound of children’s laughter filled the courtyard.
Before long, Sheng Fang plopped down beside Zhu Qing, puffing indignantly.
Usually, his niece would let him win during their chases, giving him the mistaken belief that he was fast. But now, facing Nannan, he’d met his match—winded after just a few rounds.
"Fangfang," Nannan stood before him. "Done already? I can go easier on you."
The young master of the Sheng family widened his eyes in disbelief.
What kind of talk was that?
The tiny bundle of indignation hid behind Zhu Qing, his expression a mix of grievance and resentment.
From the study, Sheng Peirong watched the scene through the floor-to-ceiling window.
Aunt Ping brought over a carefully selected plate of barbecue. "The doctor said you still need to watch your diet—just a taste."
The plate held ten skewers, each with a different ingredient, all grilled by Zhu Qing and Sheng Fang personally—no chili powder added.
"These young folks have all become Qingqing’s friends now."
"Back when we first moved here, the young master had to help entertain guests. The colleagues were more familiar with him then. But now, it’s like they’re all family."
After a long chat, Aunt Ping suddenly noticed Sheng Peirong’s plate was nearly empty.
"You can’t eat this much!" she protested.
"Aunt Ping, you have no idea how bland the food at the sanatorium was. I’ve endured it for at least ten years."
The afternoon sun slanted into the study.
Aunt Ping could only sigh in amusement.
"You’ve been working hard lately. Don’t clean up tonight," Sheng Peirong said. "I’ll hire help for tomorrow."
"That won’t do! I’ll handle it." Aunt Ping waved her hands. "It’s unheard of to hire help for the help..."
Sheng Peirong gently clasped Aunt Ping’s calloused hands.
She had never voiced it, but she knew how much Aunt Ping had done to hold the household together and care for the two children. Now that life was returning to normal—they’d hire a driver, but no extra staff. Back when she and her husband lived alone, they preferred a small household. With just Aunt Ping, it was perfect. Still, the house was large, and occasional cleaning help was necessary—otherwise, Aunt Ping would be overwhelmed.
Many details still needed sorting out.
But now that Sheng Peirong was back, these accumulated burdens wouldn’t fall on Zhu Qing’s shoulders anymore.
Outside, Sheng Fang’s cheerful laughter rang out.
Sheng Peirong gazed at the courtyard, suddenly eager. Once she regained more strength, she’d return to the company.
She couldn’t just watch Sheng Fang go to school, Zhu Qing go to work, and Aunt Ping bustle about—while she did nothing.
"Nannan! Are you some kind of speed demon?" Sheng Fang flopped onto the grass.
"Fangfang, you’re so slow."
The little boy gave up arguing and sprawled on the lawn.
He hated big kids!
...
Winter dusk always arrived quietly.
Zeng Yongshan and Zhu Qing leaned side by side against the second-floor balcony railing, watching their colleagues chatting and laughing in small groups below.
Zeng Yongshan still remembered clearly—once, on Zhu Qing’s balcony, she had brought up Liang Qikai herself.
Over the months, Zhu Qing had never pried about their progress. But Zeng Yongshan had never hidden her hesitations or fleeting hopes.
After the Zhou Yongsheng case was resolved, she and Liang Qikai finally had an honest conversation. His indecisiveness had lingered until he stumbled upon the psychological term "rescuer complex"—and then everything made sense.
They had laid their cards on the table.
Just as Zhu Qing had advised: no matter what, don’t compromise yourself.
"Actually, just being colleagues isn’t so bad," Zeng Yongshan said again, her tone lighter now.
Zhu Qing nodded slightly, her eyes on the lively scene below.
Though Liang Qikai, as the original male lead, could be annoying, he was reliable as a colleague.
A truly healthy relationship shouldn’t be about uncertainty, hesitation, or mind games.
The original heroine and male lead’s storyline hadn’t followed the script.
Those subtle flirtations had settled into a comfortable distance—they’d stepped back to being just friends.
No one knew what the future held, but one thing was certain: their lives were never meant to be bound by some predetermined plot.
Another burst of laughter rose from below.
"What are they talking about..." Zeng Yongshan looked up, noticing their cheerful expressions.
"Let's go." Zhu Qing straightened up and tilted her head toward the staircase. "Let’s check downstairs."
In the courtyard, Sheng Fang was running wildly with his Ultraman plush toy, his little face flushed with excitement.
In the midst of his play, he suddenly remembered something and dashed toward the living room on his short legs.
The young master of the Sheng family asked Aunt Ping to help him find his kindergarten contact list.
Zhu Qing had so many friends, and today’s housewarming party had been lively. Tomorrow, it would be his turn to be the little host.
Sheng Fang clutched the contact list, swinging his little legs on the sofa as his finger traced over familiar names, dialing one after another.
"Hello—is this Yesi?"
"Can you come to my house for a party tomorrow?"
"Jin Bao! Jin Bao! Want to come over after school tomorrow?"
"Don’t agree yet—ask your mommy and daddy first!"
Sheng Fang was exasperated by these silly little kids.
Accepting an invitation should always involve checking with the grown-ups first. How could they just say yes without permission?
"Jin Bao," Sheng Fang said with an air of maturity, "give the phone to your mommy. I’ll talk to her myself."
When Zhu Qing came downstairs, she overheard the little one finalizing party times with his friends over the phone, then earnestly discussing bus arrangements and pick-up details with their parents.
Fang Fang had everything perfectly organized, his tiny voice brimming with excitement.
"No wonder he’s the responsible one," Zeng Yongshan whispered. "So methodical."
The little boy set the contact list aside.
The last call was to Juan.
"Good evening. I’d like to invite Juan to my housewarming party."
On the other end, Juan’s mother was overjoyed—this was the first invitation her son had received since starting school!
"See you tomorrow," Fang Fang said into the receiver, adding firmly, "Promise! No backing out!"
Aunt Ping immediately began drafting a new menu.
Now, the focus shifted to preparing a proper children’s feast.
Time slipped by amid laughter and chatter.
As the gathering neared its end, Mo Zhenbang gazed at the joyful scene in the courtyard and couldn’t help but sigh.
"This is nice," he said. "If only every day could be this peaceful..."
The moment the words left his mouth, a dozen pairs of death glares locked onto him—
Mo Zhenbang cleared his throat. "Forget I said anything."
By nine o’clock, even Nannan was rubbing her eyes sleepily.
But Sheng Fang was still full of energy, reluctantly bidding farewell to each guest.
After the last visitor left, Aunt Ping instinctively rolled up her sleeves to clean up.
"Stop right there!" Fang Fang spotted her immediately, stretching his little arms out to block her path.
Big Sis had said Aunt Ping had been working too hard lately—from now on, professional cleaners would handle the mess.
Following Sheng Peirong’s orders to the letter, the aunt-nephew duo each took one of Aunt Ping’s arms and escorted her back to her room.
"I’ll just wipe the tables..."
"No!"
With a click, the door closed behind her.
Sheng Fang went into guard mode, pressing his ear against the door. "I’ll keep watch."
The hallway fell silent.
Two minutes later, the sound of a turning doorknob broke the quiet.
Aunt Ping tiptoed out—only to come face-to-face with Zhu Qing and the little master, waiting in the corridor.
"Don’t even think—" Sheng Fang pointed at his wide, shining eyes, "—about escaping Fang Sir’s surveillance!"
......
Early the next morning, after breakfast, Sheng Fang slung his backpack over his shoulders.
"Zhu Qing, let’s go!"
Moving to Kadoorie Hill had brought an unexpected perk for the little boy.
Zhu Qing promised that as long as she wasn’t too busy, she’d drop him off at school in Kowloon Tong. Only on hectic days would he take the school bus.
Climbing into the back seat, Fang Fang clasped his chubby hands together.
He hoped Zhu Qing could take him to school every single day.
"Oh!" Sheng Fang leaned forward. "We still haven’t had Typhoon Shelter Crab!"
Over the past month, they’d ticked off one to-do after another—except for that one dish.
"I’ll take you after school tomorrow."
Sheng Fang stuck out his tiny pinky. "Pinky promise."
After saying goodbye to Sheng Fang at Weston Kindergarten, Zhu Qing drove to the Yau Ma Tei Police Station.
The new home meant no more five-minute commute, but the longer drive had its own leisurely charm.
At the station, everyone was busy sorting through old case files.
Inspector Weng occasionally strolled out of his office, hands behind his back, before retreating again in good spirits.
Lunch at the canteen was its usual fare—Sister Xiao hadn’t introduced any new dishes. A few officers counted the scarce shrimp in their fried rice before complaining at the counter.
Amid banter and jokes, the hours slipped away.
Before they knew it, it was nearly five.
"Another quiet day—" Hao Zai stretched, but before he could finish, the phone rang.
When he answered, his expression was relaxed.
But after just one minute, his face turned grim.
"A body’s been found at the Tin Hau Temple."
All eyes swiveled to Mo Zhenbang.
Who was the one who jinxed it yesterday?
"Well?" Mo Zhenbang rubbed his nose awkwardly. "Let’s move."
At 5:05 PM, incense still curled through Tin Hau Temple.
Worshippers, now gathered for statements, buzzed with speculation.
"Officer, is it really a dead person?"
"I don’t know—just heard someone say they found a body..."
"Madam, how long will this take? I need to get home to cook."
The crime scene tape cordoned off a side hall.
"From what we’ve gathered, the main hall sees constant visitors, but this side hall was abandoned long ago," Zeng Yongshan reported, flipping through her notes. "The body was discovered behind the altar."
Zhu Qing clipped on her badge and ducked under the tape.
Behind the altar, a male corpse knelt in a posture of prayer. The incense sticks in his hands had burned down to blackened stubs, ashes scattered around him.
"Boss," Xu Jiale called out. "The forensic team’s here."
They turned to see Forensic Ye approaching with his kit, greeting the team.
Zhu Qing’s attention, however, was drawn to a crumpled corner of paper peeking from beneath a prayer cushion.
She knelt and carefully pulled out a sheet of paper.
On it, in a child’s uneven pencil scrawl, were the words:
"The Greatest Dad."
......
Aunt Ping interviewed candidates for the new housekeeping staff, finally making her selections. Laughing, she joked with the eldest Miss Sheng that she’d become a "boss" herself.
With the help of the new staff, the house was soon in order. Following Sheng Peirong’s instructions, Aunt Ping went to the Causeway Bay children’s market and picked out a large ball pit.
Workers inflated the pit and filled it with colorful plastic balls.
Seated in her wheelchair, Sheng Peirong gazed through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the courtyard, imagining her little brother’s delight when he came home.
However, at this moment, facing a yard full of rowdy children, Sheng Peirong deeply realized—
The kids were beyond thrilled.
The house had practically turned into a kindergarten playground, with children darting around, their tiny figures bouncing up and down.
Silently, she dialed her daughter’s number.
This kind of chaos was something only Zhu Qing could handle.
"Coco, when are you coming home?"
"I just took on a new case today, so I’ll be late," came the busy voice on the other end.
After hanging up, Sheng Peirong turned her gaze to the dining table.
Aunt Ping knew exactly what the children liked and had prepared a special kids' meal for them—golden crispy fries, savory chicken drumsticks, all their favorite treats. Their little hands and mouths were shiny with grease, and their faces beamed with joy.
"This is so much fun…"
"Fangfang, can we come play here every day?"
Sheng Fang nodded eagerly. "No problem!"
Upstairs, Sheng Fang’s playroom was usually filled with all kinds of toys.
But these energetic little guests weren’t about to stay in one place for long. Soon, toy parts were scattered across the spiral staircase, the living room sofa, behind the curtains…
Every corner had its own little flock of chattering sparrows, the noise so overwhelming that Sheng Peirong wanted to scream for help.
Yet it was also on this day that she got to know every one of her little brother’s friends.
Yesi was absolutely doll-like, her puffy skirt swaying with her light steps as she twirled. Jin Bao, dressed in a crisp little shirt and vest, had his buttons popping open after eating, revealing a plump little belly. Juan, sporting round glasses like a tiny scholar, spun in circles as if inspecting something before finally stopping in front of the ball pit—then, like a diver, he plunged right in.
There was also Daming, Little Mei… Out of the whole class of thirteen kids, Sheng Fang had invited every single one, though a few couldn’t make it due to extracurricular activities.
The children’s carefree laughter blended into a beautiful melody across the yard.
Sheng Peirong watched as the colorful balls flew through the air.
"Thunk!"—one of Juan’s balls landed right on Yesi’s forehead.
"You’re such a bad egg!" Yesi stomped her foot indignantly.
Juan, refusing to back down, gathered more balls. "Then what kind of egg are you?"
"I’m obviously a good egg!"
Soon, everyone was chiming in, arguing over who was good and who was bad, until even the original reason for the quarrel was forgotten.
Amid the chaos, the kids divided into teams—the "good eggs" and the "bad eggs"—lining up in two rows.
In the middle of the commotion, someone shouted, "Sheng Fang, what kind of egg are you?"
Little Sheng Fang shook his head, his face scrunched in disdain. "Who wants to be an egg?"
Sheng Peirong smiled proudly—
That was her little brother for you.
"I’m not an egg," Sheng Fang declared, his eyes gleaming with shrewdness. "I’m a person."
