So Lin Zhaoxue wasn’t afraid to appear before him, but she would have Yulan inform him beforehand, giving him time to prepare and avoid being shocked.

She and Yulan, acting stealthily, followed her son at a safe distance after he left the Li mansion.  Yulan, a quiet woman, followed silently behind Lin Zhaoxue.

Though taciturn, she was perceptive, efficient, and insightful.  She had been Lin Zhaoxue’s closest confidante, and now, the first familiar face to return, Lin Zhaoxue was deeply touched. 

Lin Zhaoxue had freed Yulan from servitude long ago, yet Yulan still returned to help during her time of need.

Lin Zhaoxue planned to settle things at the Li mansion, and within a year at most, she would no longer trouble Yulan, providing her with enough money to live comfortably.

Lin Zhaoxue retrieved the longevity lock she had made for her son, intending to have Yulan deliver it.  This would immediately identify her to her son.

Her son’s carriage slowed and stopped at a corner of the lantern festival street.  Lin Zhaoxue saw her son after five years. 

Her son, Li Hui, was twelve years old, dressed in a red robe with a lion-playing-ball pattern, likely for the festive occasion.  Despite his young age, he appeared remarkably mature, with the composed gaze of a high-ranking official, showing his precociousness.

He seemed far older than his years, lacking any childish mischief.

Lin Zhaoxue’s eyes welled up. Her child’s demeanor was completely different from the lively boy of five years ago. 

As a mother, she felt he had grown thinner and suffered.  Overwhelmed with maternal love, before Yulan could deliver the longevity lock, she took a step forward.

But then, she abruptly stopped, hiding behind a dessert stall. She observed her son’s surroundings, noticing a familiar carriage behind him—a Li mansion carriage. 

The carriage stopped, the curtain lifted, and Lin Zhaoxue saw a man of refined elegance through the crowd.  She was close enough to see the dark moles on his fair skin.  He was slender and fair, with exquisite features, almost ethereal. 

He dismounted gracefully, but didn’t leave, instead turning and opening the carriage curtain, extending his hand.

It was a beautiful hand, slender yet strong, with prominent veins on the long fingers.  These hands, though beautiful, were dry and warm, hands that had never held hers, hands accustomed to holding a writing brush. 

But now, a woman’s hand rested on his.  He naturally grasped hers, and the woman, using him as support, stepped down, a practiced movement.

Lin Zhaoxue saw their faces clearly: her husband, Li Yanyong, and his wife, Ding Huanhua. They looked like a perfect couple, deeply in love. 

The person she longed to see, yet couldn’t, appeared unexpectedly.  Fate was cruel.  Pretending indifference, Lin Zhaoxue glanced away, breathing heavily.  Yulan also saw them and supported Lin Zhaoxue, covering her eyes. 

The sounds of the market faded, and Lin Zhaoxue was lost in thought.  Li Yanyong never came to such crowded places.

She gently lowered Yulan’s hand, shaking her head. “I can handle it. I’ve been expecting this.”

The warm, dim light of the lanterns stung her eyes.  She looked up.  After dismounting, Li Hui greeted them respectfully. 

Li Yanyong patted his shoulder, a harmonious family scene. Lin Zhaoxue watched from behind the stall, her heart heavy.  Five years ago, this was her family.

She pulled Yulan along, following them.  They bumped into a young man.  He said calmly, “It’s you, Mother.”

*

It was Li Hui.  His reaction was calm, perhaps because he was too young to remember her clearly when she passed away. 

Lin Zhaoxue didn’t mind; she was just glad to see him.  She opened her arms for a hug, but he simply stared, calmly stepping aside.  Embarrassed, she withdrew her hands.  He was no longer a child.  He said indifferently, “Let’s go, don’t get lost. 

You’ve been watching for a while. If you want to see Father and Madam Ding’s life, see it directly.”

Lin Zhaoxue walked beside him, showering him with questions.  Finally, she asked, “Hui’er, shouldn’t you be at the lantern festival with Father? Why are you here alone?”  Was he being neglected?  He replied calmly, “You’re overthinking.”

“Father and Madam Ding have only been married for a year. They’re at the lantern festival, a good place for couples.  I’m the extra baggage, so I was sent away.”

Lin Zhaoxue fell silent.  She followed them, observing Li Yanyong’s change.  Before, he was oblivious to her preferences, his birthday gifts carelessly chosen by servants. 

But today, he pointed to delicate rabbit-shaped dumplings, suggesting to Ding Huanhua, who was struggling to choose, “I remember you like fruit-filled dumplings, and the rabbit is your zodiac animal. How about this one?”