As they left Grandfather Jiang’s house, Chu Xia noticed that Jiang Zhishu’s car was still there, even though he and Luo Peng had left quite a while ago.

She tugged on Cen Zhengnian’s arm and asked, “Is that Big Cousin’s car?”

Cen Zhengnian had also noticed Jiang Zhishu’s car.

He responded with a soft “Mm,” held Chu Xia’s hand, and with his other hand, tugged Cen Huai’an along, saying, “Let’s go say hello.”

But before they could walk over, Jiang Zhishu rolled down the window, waved at them, and then drove off.

Cen Zhengnian watched the car drive away, his expression thoughtful.

Chu Xia, noticing his contemplation, gave him a curious look.

Cen Zhengnian, acting nonchalant, shifted his gaze and said, “Let’s go take the car too.”

Jiang Zhishu drove silently, and Luo Peng stared out the window, lost in thought.

Once they arrived home, Jiang Zhishu took off his jacket.

Luo Peng instinctively took it, hung it on the rack, and sat on the sofa, continuing to ponder.

“What did you want to tell me?” Jiang Zhishu asked.

When they first got into the car, Luo Peng had mentioned wanting to talk to him.

Her tone was too serious, so Jiang Zhishu didn’t start driving right away, waiting for her to speak.

But she remained silent until Cen Zhengnian’s family came out, which made him suspicious as to why she had parked at his grandfather’s house for so long, so they drove back.

“I…” Luo Peng hesitated. Ever since hearing Chu Xia’s words earlier, she had been mentally preparing herself.

She knew she had to say something eventually.

She wasn’t as experienced as her husband when it came to dealing with people, nor did she have his comprehensive way of thinking.

Besides, she wasn’t used to hiding things from him.

Biting her lip, she clutched the hem of her skirt and, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, said, “I want to see a doctor to regulate my body.”

Jiang Zhishu noticed her pale fingers and sat down beside her, holding her hand. “Relax.”

Luo Peng looked up at him in surprise, seeing a slight frown on his face, as though he didn’t like the idea.

“I… I…” Luo Peng tried to explain, but Jiang Zhishu cut her off. “We haven’t been married that long. Why do you want to see a doctor to regulate your body? Who said something to you?”

Jiang Zhishu and Luo Peng were high school classmates, but they didn’t reconnect until they both got into the same university, eventually leading to their marriage.

They hadn’t been married as long as Chu Xia and Cen Zhengnian.

At first, neither of them was in a rush to have kids, and even their parents didn’t pressure them.

But as time went on, and given their age, Luo Peng could sense her mother-in-law’s quiet expectations.

She began to feel anxious herself and once asked Jiang Zhishu if she should get checked out to see what might be wrong.

Jiang Zhishu had reassured her, “Children are a matter of fate. We haven’t been married that long, so don’t worry.”

Still, Luo Peng couldn’t shake the concern and secretly went to see a doctor.

Since she was too scared to go to a large hospital, she ended up seeing doctors whose skill she wasn’t sure about, each giving her different advice.

She didn’t dare take the medication they prescribed.

It wasn’t until today, after hearing Chu Xia’s words, that she firmly decided she wanted to find a reputable doctor to regulate her health.

She shook her head at Jiang Zhishu and said, “It’s not because of anyone else—I want to have a child now. Zhishu, I want to see a doctor.”

Seeing the sincerity in her eyes, Jiang Zhishu’s frown slowly softened.

He gently rubbed her hand with his thumb. “Alright, I’ll find a doctor, and we’ll go together.”

Luo Peng’s face filled with panic. “Why would you go? You’re not the one who’s sick.”

Jiang Zhishu responded calmly, “Sometimes, not having children isn’t just the woman’s problem. I’m not afraid to face it.”

---

Although they hadn’t gotten to watch the moon with Grandfather Jiang, Chu Xia, Cen Huaian, and Cen Zhengnian were now watching it together in the courtyard.

There were two reclining chairs that Chu Xia had specially ordered—one for her and one for Cen Zhengnian, who was holding Cen Huai’an in his arms.

In the middle was a small table filled with fruits, snacks, and a plate of sliced mooncakes.

Huangzi and Heizi, the two dogs, were sitting in front of the table, wagging their tails, their eyes darting between Chu Xia, Cen Huaian, and the food on the table.

Their tongues hung out, clearly tempted by the treats.

Whenever Cen Huai’an ate, he would sneak them tiny bits of food, so small that it was unclear if they could even taste anything before swallowing it whole.

Chu Xia sat in her chair, gently rocking while holding a small bowl of pomegranate seeds.

She ate them as she gazed up at the moon, feeling as if she had traveled back to her childhood.

“An An, let me tell you a story,” Chu Xia said.

“Okay,” Cen Huaian replied, turning to her with wide eyes.

Even Cen Zhengnian looked over, curious.

“A long, long time ago…” Chu Xia began telling the story of Houyi shooting down the suns and Chang’e flying to the moon.

She told the version where Chang’e didn’t steal the elixir, but was forced to take it.

“Mom, Peng Meng was so mean,” Cen Huai’an frowned, scrunching his little face in disapproval after hearing the story.

Chu Xia couldn’t help but laugh.

She suddenly recalled the ending of The Genius Merchant of the Era, where Cen Huai’an’s character became a villain, much like Peng Meng.

However, ever since she had come to this world, she increasingly felt that the book didn’t make sense.

But since she wasn’t the author, she didn’t know the real reason behind the story’s direction.

Looking at Cen Huai’an now, Chu Xia found it impossible to believe that he would grow up to be a villain.

Raised in an environment filled with love, he would surely only get better and better.

Smiling, Chu Xia nodded and said, “Yes, Peng Meng was really bad. Houyi taught him archery, but he still coveted the elixir and forced Houyi and Chang’e apart.”

Cen Huai’an nodded in agreement, echoing his mother’s thoughts: “Yes, Peng Meng was terrible. An An, we must always remember to repay kindness, not forget it like Peng Meng did.”

Cen Huai’an let out a heavy “hmm” and asked his mother, Chu Xia, “Mom, what do all these things mean?”

Although An An vaguely understood the meanings of the idioms his mother talked about, he still wanted a more precise explanation.

Despite being a genius, he didn’t know every idiom because he hadn’t read that many books.

Chu Xia glanced at Cen Zhengnian, who had been quietly watching them with a smile in his eyes.

She lazily munched on a handful of pomegranate seeds and said, “Let your dad tell you. He knows more stories about the moon.”

Cen Huai’an turned to his father, eagerly awaiting a story.

Cen Zhengnian looked at Chu Xia with a smile, then began to speak slowly and gently.

His voice was soft and magnetic, making Chu Xia yawn as she listened.

Noticing Chu Xia’s pomegranate bowl slowly sliding down, Cen Zhengnian stopped his storytelling and placed An An, who was listening attentively, on the ground.

Cen Huai’an had a confused look on his face and was about to speak when Cen Zhengnian whispered, “Shh, your mom is asleep.”

Cen Huai’an immediately turned to look at his mother and closed his mouth tightly.

Cen Zhengnian took the bowl from Chu Xia’s hand, handed it to An An, and carried Chu Xia to the bedroom.

After being placed on the bed, Chu Xia automatically wrapped herself in the quilt and continued sleeping.

Cen Zhengnian left the room to clean up the mess in the yard.

The next day, the sky was gloomy and looked like it might rain.

Cen Zhengnian went to work, and Chu Xia took an umbrella and a raincoat before heading to Tiananmen with Cen Huai’an.

They arrived late, and the national flag at Tiananmen Square had already been raised.

Raising the flag didn’t have the same ceremonial feel as in later years, and there weren’t as many people crowding around to watch.

There were still many people in front of the gate tower, some taking pictures.

Chu Xia and Cen Huai’an stood in the square, looking up at the portrait of the great leader on the tower.

She squatted down, pointed to the picture, and told Cen Huai’an about the revolutionary deeds of the great leaders.

Cen Huai’an listened attentively, his eyes fixed on the portrait, shining with admiration.

Chu Xia only talked about two typical stories since there was so much to tell.

After she stopped, a clear, young voice came from behind them, “Is there more?”

Chu Xia and Cen Huai’an turned around quickly and saw a little girl with black hair but a mixed-race appearance. Her big, grape-like eyes were full of curiosity as she looked at Chu Xia.

“You tell stories so well! The great leaders were amazing!” The little girl’s voice was sweet and innocent, making Chu Xia smile.

“There are more, but you can ask your parents when you get home.”

“I don’t have parents,” the little girl said, shaking her head, but she didn’t look sad.

Chu Xia and Cen Huai’an were stunned for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Just then, an elderly woman with white hair and a hunched back hurried over. When she saw the little girl, she sighed in relief.

“Qiao Qiao, don’t run off like that! There are many bad people around here!”

“Grandma, I was listening to Auntie tell a story.”

The elderly woman smiled apologetically at Chu Xia. “Sorry, my granddaughter loves listening to stories.”

Chu Xia waved her hand. “It’s fine. I was just telling my son a story, and she’s very well-behaved.”

The old woman lovingly patted Qiao Qiao on the head, thanked Chu Xia, and then led the little girl away.

“Mom, does she really not have parents?” Cen Huai’an asked, waving goodbye to Qiao Qiao, who kept looking back at them.

Qiao Qiao excitedly waved back as she walked farther away with her grandmother.

“I don’t know,” Chu Xia said, shaking her head, though she suspected it was true.

Judging by the girl’s appearance, her mother was probably a foreigner.

And mixed marriages were quite difficult in the past years.

Cen Huai’an’s mood turned somber.

He knew the joy of having parents and also the pain of losing them since he had experienced both.

But since it was just a brief encounter, Cen Huai’an soon set Qiao Qiao’s situation aside when Chu Xia suggested taking a photo in front of the leader’s portrait as a memento.

“Mom, I want a picture.”

They took a photo, paid extra to have it developed quickly, which cost quite a bit.

Cen Huai’an looked at the picture of himself and his mom in front of the gate tower.

His mom was smiling, wearing a beautiful red dress.

He looked good too.

But it would have been perfect if Dad were there.

Cen Huai’an carefully put the photo into his bag, planning to show it to his dad when they got home.

After that, Chu Xia took An An to the Forbidden City.

Tickets cost fifty cents each, and after paying, they entered.

Compared to the solemnity of Tiananmen, the Forbidden City felt like a place heavy with history.

The red walls and yellow tiles, and walking on the gray bricks, made Chu Xia and An An feel like they had traveled back in time to ancient days.

But the modern visitors reminded them they were just tourists.

Chu Xia’s knowledge of the Forbidden City came from history books and teachers, as well as some history talks she had watched in the modern era, although her understanding was somewhat fragmented.

Therefore, she didn’t tell An An too much—just what she knew, such as the fact that the Forbidden City served as the imperial palace during the Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties.

Despite the simplicity of the stories, Cen Huaian listened intently.