Cen Huai’an was eager to hear more, as he was interested in his father’s past.

However, he couldn’t resist the pull of his biological clock and gradually, his eyes grew heavier until sleep completely overtook him.

Chuxia was still awake, listening attentively.

Noticing that Cen Zhengnian had stopped talking, she quietly asked, “What happens next?”

“Next…” Cen Zhengnian, seeing her curious gaze, smiled and continued his story.

Chuxia began to feel drowsy, stifling a yawn as she said, “Maybe we can continue this another time. It’s a pity you’re leaving tomorrow.”

Cen Zhengnian’s stories were engaging, though they were just small anecdotes, his voice was soothing and had a lulling effect.

He glanced down at An An, who was sleeping peacefully with his eyes closed and his body relaxed.

Cen Huai’an’s little hand still clutched a corner of Cen Zhengnian’s shirt.

Looking at Chuxia, who had her eyes closed and a slight tear at the corner of her eye from drowsiness, Cen Zhengnian felt a surge of warmth and affection.

“Chuxia, why don’t you and An An come with me to Ganzhou and stay at my parents’ place?” Cen Zhengnian suggested.

Chuxia, half-asleep, replied without much thought, “But what about my job and studies?”

Cen Zhengnian sighed inwardly, knowing it was an unrealistic suggestion. He gently patted Chuxia’s back. “I was just saying it casually. Go to sleep.”

The next morning, long before dawn, Cen Zhengnian woke up.

Cen Huai’an was still sleeping soundly in his arms, and Chuxia was beside him, her lips curved into a smile as if she was dreaming a pleasant dream.

Seeing them, Cen Zhengnian’s lips curled into a smile.

He carefully extracted his arm from under Cen Huai’an.

His train ticket was for 7 a.m., and it was still before 5.

He needed to head to the station early, and he didn’t want to wake Chuxia and An An to see him off.

As he was carefully pulling his arm away, Cen Huai’an murmured, “Dad.”

Seeing An An’s little arm reaching out and touching him, then turning over to continue sleeping, Cen Zhengnian let out a sigh of relief, fearing that he might wake him up.

He got out of bed quietly and began dressing.

But as soon as he turned around, he found Chuxia and An An both awake.

Cen Zhengnian froze momentarily. “Did I wake you up?”

Chuxia shook her head. “No, I was already awake, keeping track of the time.”

She yawned, and Cen Huai’an had a similar look of drowsiness on his face.

Cen Zhengnian went over and adjusted the blankets around them. “I’ll go to the station by myself. You two don’t need to get up.”

The thought of leaving alone, with no family to see him off, felt lonely to him. Moreover, Cen Huai’an seemed to want to accompany his father, even though he hadn’t said so.

Chuxia threw off the covers and said, “Since we’re already awake, we might as well see you off.”

Cen Huai’an didn’t say anything but had already dressed himself, clearly ready to go as well.

Cen Zhengnian felt a warm rush of emotion fill him.

Chuxia wasn’t sure if there were places open for breakfast at this hour, so she quickly mixed some batter, added eggs and shredded potatoes, and made a few pancakes, placing them on the table.

“Have something to eat first, and then we’ll each have a bowl of milk essence.”

Cen Zhengnian intended to help, but Chuxia urged him, “Go check if you’ve forgotten anything. Don’t forget to bring some food for the journey.”

Watching Chuxia busy herself and Cen Huai’an following him around, Cen Zhengnian felt his heart soften.

Cen Huai’an seemed to have remembered something, and he ran into the room, quickly returning with a few tomatoes he had picked.

“Here you go,” he said, placing the tomatoes on the table and pushing them toward Cen Zhengnian.

These were tomatoes An An had grown himself, and he usually cherished them.

The first ripe tomatoes were made into sweet tomato salad by Chuxia, and he had been very careful with them, not wasting any of the tomato syrup.

Now, he had picked all the ripe tomatoes from the windowsill to give to Cen Zhengnian.

Cen Zhengnian was at a loss for words, overwhelmed by his feelings.

He simply pulled Cen Huai’an into his arms, whispering, “An An…”

Huai’an’s face slowly turned red as he awkwardly nuzzled into Cen Zhengnian’s arms.

The sky outside was not fully bright yet, but the morning star was visible in the southeast.

However, the family quarters were already bustling with early risers, mostly elderly people taking their morning strolls and chatting.

Cen Zhengnian pushed the bicycle with Chu Xia carrying the suitcase in the back, and Huai’an sat on the front bar.

The cool morning breeze made Chu Xia glad that she ignored Huai’an’s objections and wrapped him in a scarf.

She also wore one herself, otherwise, it would have been quite chilly.

She wondered if Cen Zhengnian was cold since he wasn’t wearing anything extra and had no gloves.

When they arrived at the station, Chu Xia noticed that Cen Zhengnian’s originally fair and slender hands were slightly red.

He carried the suitcase with one hand and held Huai’an with the other, while Chu Xia tightly held onto Huai’an’s other hand.

The station was crowded, and Cen Zhengnian said to Chu Xia, “It’s too crowded. I’ll go in alone.”

Huai’an tightened his grip on Chu Xia’s hand. “We’ve come this far, let’s see you off at the train.”

With some time before departure, Cen Zhengnian bought a platform ticket, and Chu Xia and Huai’an followed him into the station.

It was still busy inside, but less crowded.

Some people, needing to catch the early train, had spent the night sleeping in the station’s chairs.

Cen Zhengnian couldn’t find an available seat, so he put the suitcase on the floor and let Chu Xia and Huai’an sit.

“Huai’an, after I leave, you need to listen to your mom. You can write to me, and I’ll write back when I see your letters.”

“When will you come back?” Huai’an looked up at Cen Zhengnian.

Cen Zhengnian’s words caught in his throat.

Looking into Huai’an’s innocent eyes, he gently patted his head. “I don’t know.”

Huai’an’s mood seemed even lower with that response.

Soon the train arrived, and Cen Zhengnian joined the throng of people boarding.

Chu Xia carefully protected Huai’an as Cen Zhengnian moved with the crowd, waving and calling out loudly, “You all go back! Don’t come over!”

“Dad! Dad!”

Huai’an finally realized that he was really parting from his father and couldn’t help but shout loudly, tears streaming uncontrollably.

Chu Xia felt a pang in her heart as well.

She held Huai’an tightly and shouted to Cen Zhengnian, “Have a safe trip!”

Cen Zhengnian suddenly turned around, pushed through the crowd, and hugged Chu Xia and Huai’an tightly.

He rested his head on Huai’an’s forehead and stroked his face, saying, “Huai’an, Dad is leaving.”

“I’m leaving.” He then patted Chu Xia’s head and, with a final glance, started to turn away.

At that moment, Huai’an grabbed his hand and pushed a small object into it.

Cen Zhengnian felt it was a long, small object.

He didn’t dare look at it right then, afraid it might fall, so he held it tightly as he moved forward.

After Cen Zhengnian squeezed onto the train and looked back, he saw Chu Xia and Huai’an standing there, watching him.

He waved again before entering the train car.

His seat wasn’t by the window, but it was just across the aisle from it.

Until the train started moving, he could still see Chu Xia and Huai’an’s figures, which made his heart ache.

Chu Xia held Huai’an for a while.

When she felt too tired, she set him down and they both watched as the train carrying Cen Zhengnian gradually disappeared from view until the last car was out of sight.

Only then did she turn to Huai’an, who was listlessly staring at the departing train. “Alright, let’s go home.”

Huai’an nodded, and they walked out hand in hand, saying nothing.

Once they were back home, Chu Xia immediately sent Huai’an off to school.

Even though Cen Zhengnian had left, the routine continued, and she still had to go to work.

Cen Zhengnian’s departure had affected her mood, making her feel less interested.

She didn’t notice Huang Tingyue walking back and forth in front of her several times.

Finally, Huang Tingyue, unable to hold back, called out to her, “Chu Xia, do you think this dress looks good on me?”

Chu Xia looked up and saw Huang Tingyue wearing a bright red long-sleeve dress, which was quite suitable for autumn.

However, the style didn’t quite match her as the color was too bold; Huang Tingyue looked better in softer pink tones.

But the dress did brighten her complexion. Chu Xia smiled and nodded, “It looks great.”

Huang Tingyue’s face showed a pleased smile. “This dress was lent to me by Mei Zhi. I think it fits me well.”

Liu Meizhi was an accountant at the textile factory, one of several accountants in the department.

Like Chu Xia and Huang Tingyue, she was also a recent recruit.

It was said that Liu Meizhi had connections, though Chu Xia didn’t know the details, just that she had heard colleagues mention it.

“It suits you very well.” Chu Xia understood Huang Tingyue’s intent: see, you didn’t lend me a dress, but someone else did, and it’s even better than yours.

Young girls’ minds are like that, Chu Xia was happy to accommodate her.

It wasn’t a big deal, and she agreed with Huang Tingyue’s praise.

Satisfied with Chu Xia’s response, Huang Tingyue stopped parading in front of her and went on her way.

Chu Xia, however, was still preoccupied with what Cen Zhengnian might be doing on the train.

Meanwhile, Cen Zhengnian sat in the crowded train car, eating a tomato and looking at the small object Huai’an had given him.

It was a small, somewhat rough wooden carving of an airplane, very similar to the wooden airplane model he had given Huai’an.

As he looked at it, his eyes felt a bit misty, and he quickly looked down and took a big bite of the tomato.

The tomato was tangy and sweet, and he ate two of them quickly.

Children across from him watched him eating with envy, but Cen Zhengnian didn’t share any.

The object was a gift from Huai’an, and he intended to keep it to himself.

Someone spoke to him, “You grow good tomatoes.”

Cen Zhengnian’s face showed pride. “My son grew them; he’s only five years old this year.”