Aunt Wang came to visit the children with some grapes and took the opportunity to share the latest gossip she’d heard with Yang Yufen.
"I was wondering why someone suddenly asked me today if I still make baby strollers. So that’s what happened. Actually, it’s not hard to make—just find a carpenter to build a frame and sew a sturdy fabric sling to hold the baby. Then the child can sit and play inside," Yang Yufen said, suddenly enlightened.
"Wooden ones would be too heavy, and they might not have your skills. They missed their chance. By the time Dabao and Erbao grow up, the stroller won’t be needed anymore, so I’ll just take it off your hands."
"What nonsense! As if I’d ever let the children go without," Yang Yufen retorted, shooting Aunt Wang an exasperated look.
"Of course not. But why go through the trouble when there’s a ready-made one?"
Yang Yufen washed the grapes, peeled them, and picked out the seeds before handing one to each child to hold and nibble on.
Dabao popped his into his mouth, wrinkled his little face, and seemed about to spit it out—but then shoved it back in.
Erbao watched his brother eat before cautiously trying his own.
"I see you’ve gathered so many bamboo branches. Are you about to get busy again?"
"You know me so well. Yes, I’ll be busy. Here, have some dried sweet potato slices, and take some back for Yaoyao and Little Fang. Yaoyao hasn’t come to play lately—is her homework too much?"
"Yaoyao’s just being considerate of her mother. Little Fang’s been suffering from morning sickness, so Yaoyao helps grade her mother’s homework after finishing her own. She’s like a little adult—so mature it’s heartbreaking."
"Then let me pack some dried sweet potato for you. Go take care of Little Fang."
"No rush, no rush. Little Fang isn’t home from work yet. Oh, and give me some of your pickled vegetables too. Right now, the only thing Little Fang can stomach is noodles cooked with your pickles. Pregnancy is no easy journey for a woman."
"Sure. I bought two extra jars just for pickling. Take one back with you. When it’s running low, just add fresh veggies to the brine—it’s simple."
With Aunt Wang helping watch the children, Yang Yufen seized the moment to work.
Soon, it seemed like Aunt Wang and Sister Liu had coordinated their visits—one coming in the morning, the other in the afternoon—to help Yang Yufen shoulder the burden of childcare while sharing amusing stories from the neighborhood.
Time flew by. With each autumn rain, the chill deepened, and by the time the twins could pull themselves up by the crib railings, winter had arrived.
"Rubbing ginger-infused liquor on the joints really works. If I’d known this remedy sooner, I could’ve spared myself so much winter misery."
This year, winter came early, and Yang Yufen had already prepared warm clothes for the children.
The second brood of chicks had hatched successfully and now weighed half a pound each. The electric blanket, having served its purpose as an incubator, was back on the bed.
In the main room, Yang Yufen had set up a wooden bed beside the old one moved from Qin Nian’s room. With the electric blanket laid out, the children could play without fear of the cold.
"For your rheumatism, tiger bone liquor would be even better, but that’s impossible to find these days. Ginger dispels cold, so it helps somewhat."
"It helps a great deal! In previous years, I wouldn’t dare visit anyone at this time. But your home is so warm too."
Sister Liu’s daughter-in-law was pregnant and had moved back home, making it easier to care for the older children. This also gave Sister Liu more time to chat with Yang Yufen.
Yang Yufen didn’t skimp on coal and had even installed a vent pipe to direct the stove’s fumes outside. With the stove burning in the center of the room for cooking and heating, the house stayed cozy.
The children played on the bed with the little toys Yang Yufen had made for them, gleefully tossing them to the floor and calling excitedly for their grandmother to pick them up—a game they never tired of.
Yang Yufen chatted with Sister Liu while patiently retrieving the toys, all without neglecting her own tasks.
The number of remaining birdcages was dwindling. Fan Juan came weekly to collect the finished ones, and Yang Yufen worked late into the night after the children fell asleep, hoping to finish before year’s end.
The colder it got, the harder it was to move around, but caring for the twins came first. Still, once the birdcages were done, she could repay part of her debt to Professor Wen.
By the time Yang Yufen completed the last birdcage, November had ended. She stretched her limbs and gave the house a thorough cleaning, leaving no corner untouched—even Qin Nian’s room.
"I wonder how Nian’er is doing. The children will soon learn to say ‘Mama.’ If only we could call her..."
Yang Yufen fed the children egg custard—one spoon for Dabao, one for Erbao. Dabao kept trying to grab the spoon, but Yang Yufen would pull it away each time. If he didn’t open his mouth properly, Erbao got the next bite.
After missing a few turns, Dabao pouted, on the verge of tears, but Yang Yufen didn’t indulge him. She fed Erbao another spoonful, and Dabao finally gave in.
Yang Yufen hid a smile. The older the children grew, the more they tested boundaries, probing to see how much they could get away with. But if she held firm and let Erbao’s compliance serve as an example, Dabao would eventually behave.
Still, when both children finished their meals nicely, Yang Yufen rewarded them each with a piece of dried sweet potato to chew on.
Dabao was always the happiest at these moments.
"Come on, say ‘Mama.’ This is Mama—say it!"
Yang Yufen held up a photo of Qin Nian, teaching the children to call for their mother.
On the other side of the strait, a flamboyantly dressed man stood by the shore, gazing across the sea.
"Brother Xian, still no memories coming back?" A woman stood beside him.
"Nothing. Rourou, the wind’s strong—why are you dressed so lightly? You shouldn’t follow me like this. If Brother Lan sees, he’ll suspect something. I only see you as a little sister. As long as you and Brother Lan are happy, that’s enough for me."
"Brother Lan’s been busy lately. If you hadn’t saved us both at sea back then, you wouldn’t have hit your head and lost your memory."
Rourou’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, her probing words and intense stare unsettling.
"I have no one here. Brother Lan’s done more than enough for me. I can’t ask for more."
Every word the man said was captured by hidden listeners.
"Let him handle more tasks from now on. His skills are good—he’s suited for dangerous work."
"Yes."
This exchange, unnoticed by most, was understood only by those in the know.
Elsewhere on the mainland, a group of plainly dressed individuals worked with single-minded focus, laboring overtime to complete a monumental task before the year’s end.
