Six months ago, he’d gone up the mountain to gather herbs and nearly lost his life when he slipped and tumbled down the steep slope. The fall left his back and legs shattered, and he’d been bed-bound ever since. The long months of pain had whittled him down, leaving him frail and gaunt.

But when Mrs. Shen entered with a tiny baby bundled in blankets, a rare spark of joy lit up his worn face. “Xiujuan had the baby? Is it a boy or a girl?”

“A girl!” Mrs. Shen cried excitedly, bringing the small bundle close to his bedside and holding her out. “At last, a little girl in the Shen family! This is what you’ve been waiting for, right? Look at her—isn’t she beautiful? Doesn’t she look like her parents?”

Old Shen’s cloudy eyes seemed to brighten at the sight of the quiet, sleeping baby girl. He carefully stretched out his hands to hold her, marveling, “Beautiful! Just beautiful!” His voice was a gentle murmur as he gazed at her. “My granddaughter, I’m your grandpa. Come on, open your eyes for me!”

“Oh, please, she’s barely a few hours old!” Mrs. Shen teased, scooping the baby back into her arms. “Even if she could open her eyes, why would she want to look at your wrinkled old face? And keep it down—you’ll scare her.”

Though reluctant to let go, Old Shen knew he was too weak and didn’t want to risk startling the baby, so he finally allowed Mrs. Shen to carry her away.

The whole family was positively glowing with the joy of having a little girl in the house. After showing her to each of her grandsons, Mrs. Shen finally took her back to the bedroom.

“She’s such a calm one—hasn’t cried at all,” Mrs. Shen remarked with a smile, returning the baby to Lin Xiujuan’s arms. She leaned in close, whispering, “Go ahead, nurse her. I’ll make some chicken soup to help you get your strength back.

Lin Xiujuan’s eyes widened. “Mother, don’t kill that old hen! We need her to lay eggs.”

“Enough with that! Leave the cooking to me,” Mrs. Shen said firmly. “You and Jianlin just focus on choosing a good name for her.” With that, she hurried off, her mind already made up.

As she cradled her baby, Lin Xiujuan looked up at Shen Jianlin, who was sitting beside her, and sighed. “Why don’t you talk to your mother? I feel bad about losing that hen. She’s our only egg layer. When I was born, my own mother didn’t make chicken soup for me… now we’re down to our last hen, and she’s going to stew it. Go talk some sense into her.”

But Shen Jianlin, completely enchanted by his sleeping daughter, only gave a dopey grin. “It’s fine—it’s just one chicken. You’ve just given birth, and you need the nourishment. We’ll buy a few more hens when we have the money.”

Lin Xiujuan sighed, knowing there was no changing their minds.

The Shens might be poor—very poor—but she felt truly lucky. The whole family had welcomed her in as one of their own, and Shen Jianlin’s parents treated her more like a daughter than an in-law. She sometimes felt even more at home here than with her own kin.

And Shen Jianlin was a rare man. Gentle and patient, he wasn’t like the other husbands in the village who often raised their voices or even a hand to their wives. Because he treated her so well, she gave him nothing but her whole heart in return, and together, they were the model couple in the community.

That night, the family gathered for a simple dinner. With Old Shen still bedridden, everyone else crowded into the back room to dote on the new baby girl, bringing her into their world with all the love they had.