Chapter 51: Warm Sun — Let’s Call Her Warm Sun

“Let me do it, let me do it— You all sit and chat with Chunling. She must be bored sitting around during her confinement. Want some malted milk? I’ll make it for you! We’ve got freshly boiled hot water at home and clean cups too. I’ll bring it right over—”

Li Jinhua tried to jump ahead and snatch the can of malted milk from Chu Yue’s hands.

But Chu Yue had already anticipated this. The moment Li Jinhua reached out, she handed the malted milk to Chen Fengying instead.

“Sister-in-law Chen, I’ll trouble you to make it.”

Even someone as blunt as Chen Fengying could tell what Chu Yue meant. She immediately hugged the can of malted milk tightly and smiled,
“Don’t worry, Sister Chu, I’m quick and efficient. One cup each for us three adults, one cup each for the two kids — five cups, right? I didn’t count wrong?”

Li Jinhua immediately piped up with flattery:
“Me! Don’t forget me! Comrade Chu, this old lady has never even tasted malted milk in her life—”

But Chu Yue had no intention of humoring her. She nodded firmly,
“Sister-in-law Chen, you counted right — just five cups.”

“Great, I’ll get on it. Dazhuang, come help me with the cups.”

Chen Fengying acted like it was her own home and walked straight into the kitchen. She even had the presence of mind to tell her son Dazhuang to stand guard at the door to block Li Jinhua from entering.

Both she and Dazhuang were broad and sturdy, while Li Jinhua was a frail, scrawny old woman. There was no competing with them physically.

Blocked from entering the kitchen, Li Jinhua’s eyes nearly sparked flames with frustration, her heart filled with bitter resentment.

This was exactly what Chu Yue wanted — to make Li Jinhua see but not touch, to burn with envy and frustration, to feel like her heart was being pricked with needles.

For someone so greedy and mean-spirited, scolding her wouldn’t leave a mark — but denying her a benefit would drive her crazy.

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Inside the bedroom—

Wang Chunling had seen everything Chu Yue had done, and her eyes welled up with tears once again, full of gratitude.

In a soft voice, she asked,
“Comrade Chu, we’re practically strangers… why are you willing to help me so much?”

“Maybe it’s because of this.”

Chu Yue pointed to the desk in the corner, her gaze complex and deep.

Wang Chunling turned to look — and saw several books lying there. They were high school textbooks, one of them a Chinese language book.

Every book was old and worn, clearly from many years ago. On the covers were written: Class 1, Grade 10 and her name, Wang Chunling.

These books held the key to Wang Chunling’s life story.

Years ago, during a political upheaval, Wang Chunling’s father had been labeled a capitalist. At that time, she had just started her first year of high school — just a 16-year-old girl.

Suddenly, her world collapsed. Her father was sent off to work in a mine in the northwest. She was sent down to the countryside as a “sent-down youth.”

When she left home, she had nothing — only her schoolbag.

Back then, she had dreamed of going to university and bringing honor to her father. But in an instant, everything was destroyed. Her family was gone. Her father was gone. The college entrance exams were canceled. She was sent to a farm to do the filthiest, hardest labor — all while people mocked her as a “capitalist’s daughter.”

She endured it for two years. After that, because of her good looks, the local women’s committee arranged a blind date for her.

Her blind date was Zhou Zhijian, who had just returned home on leave from the military.

He fell in love with Wang Chunling at first sight. Her quiet and refined appearance was completely different from the average village girl. He was determined to marry her — no matter how Li Jinhua ranted and raved about Chunling being a “capitalist’s daughter,” he wouldn’t change his mind.

And so, Wang Chunling and Zhou Zhijian got married.

But after the wedding, Li Jinhua found fault with her constantly. Not only did she think Chunling brought bad luck, but she also blamed her for ruining Zhou Zhijian’s future.

One of Li Jinmei’s favorite things to say was:

“If it weren’t for you, how could my son still be just a company commander? He should’ve been a regimental commander—at least a battalion commander—by now!”

What a delusional sense of grandeur!

With a domineering mother-in-law and a husband who turned a deaf ear to everything, Wang Chunling didn’t even have the support of her own family. All she could do was endure day by day in silence.

She didn’t even have control over her own body, or how she would give birth.

During those painful days, whenever the agony became unbearable, Wang Chunling would pick up those few books she had and flip through them, page by page.

But she wasn’t reading the words—she was reading the past. The space between the lines held memories of a carefree childhood, back when her parents were still alive and by her side.

When Chu Yue helped deliver her baby, she had noticed those books—especially the Chinese language textbook.

The moment she saw it, she was reminded of the body’s original owner.

Because she now shared this body and its memories, some of the original host’s emotions lingered within her.

Had the original host not died from a heart attack, had she been forced by Li Amei into marriage, and if the man she ended up with wasn’t Lu Zhanlin, then her fate might’ve turned out exactly like Wang Chunling’s.

In a way, Wang Chunling was like a second version of the original Chu Yue, and because of that, Chu Yue couldn’t help but feel a deeper sympathy toward her.

So, she was more willing to be kind to her.

A few pieces of candy, a cup of malted milk—these meant nothing to Chu Yue, but to Wang Chunling, they were everything.

Wang Chunling was still staring at her books, not fully understanding what Chu Yue meant. Was there something special about those books?

Chu Yue had already pulled herself out of that moment of emotion. She looked down at the tiny baby cradled in Wang Chunling’s arms—her little hands not even the size of a sugar mandarin, her face smaller than a palm.

This was the same baby Chu Yue had slapped at birth to get her to breathe—a child who clung to life by sheer luck.

“May I hold her?” Chu Yue asked softly.

“Of course,” Wang Chunling replied, handing her over. “I haven’t named her yet. Comrade Chu, you saved her life—why don’t you give her a name?”

The baby in Chu Yue’s arms was so light, it felt like she had no weight at all—yet she was a precious, real life.

Chu Yue looked out the window. The weather was nice, and a soft golden sunlight was shining in, bringing a rare sense of warmth to the winter day.

“Let’s name her Nuanyang—Warm Sun. I hope she grows up warm and radiant, like the sun. What do you think?”

“Nuanyang… Nuanyang…” Wang Chunling murmured, smiling. “What a beautiful name—just hearing it makes me feel warm. And for a nickname, we can call her Nuannuan… Nuannuan, that’s your name now.”

Wang Chunling was deeply moved. She kept repeating the name, Nuannuan.

Lu Yuanbao had never seen such a tiny baby before. He stood on tiptoes, craning his neck to peer into Chu Yue’s arms.

Chu Yue lowered the baby slightly so Yuanbao could see more clearly.

He leaned in and said in awe,

“She’s… so small.”

Chu Yue smiled.

“All babies start out this small. You were this tiny once too. Then, day by day, you grew bigger.”

Yuanbao was fascinated. He reached out and gently touched the baby’s hand. Her tiny fingers instantly clutched his—soft, warm, and surprisingly strong for such a small being.

And then…

Yuanbao smelled something familiar coming from the baby—it was…

Milk.

It smelled just like the milk Chu Yue always gave him to drink.