“Can you go back to the front courtyard on your own?” Zhao Nanyu asked, not particularly willing to leave his son alone with Song Luan.

Zhao Zhiger lowered his head and unexpectedly replied, “Father, I want to stay here a little longer.”

Zhao Nanyu’s smile faltered for a moment, and he glanced at Song Luan with a look that was both knowing and unsettling. The half-smile on his face sent a chill down her spine. To be honest, she hadn’t expected Zhao Zhiger to warm up to her so quickly. After only one act of kindness, the child wanted to stay with her.

So cute, so sweet.

“Fine, it’s up to you.”

Zhao Nanyu didn’t linger, heading to the study in the front courtyard.

Zhao Zhiger sat upright, his hands resting on his legs, back straight, his pale, delicate face puffed out slightly. He looked so serious that Song Luan couldn’t resist the urge to tease him.

She moved closer and sat next to him. For a moment, Zhao Zhiger’s body stiffened, his fingers nervously clutching at the corner of his clothes. He wasn’t sure why he had so suddenly wanted to stay; maybe it was because he hadn’t seen his mother in half a month.

In truth, Zhao Zhiger knew deep down that he missed the feeling of being held by his mother. If he closed his eyes, he could still smell her scent and hear her gentle voice asking if he was tired or whether his writing was good.

“Zhao Zhiger, do you want something to eat?” Song Luan immediately regretted the question. They just had lunch. He’s not hungry, of course.

As expected, Zhao Zhiger shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

Song Luan felt a bit at a loss. This was her first time being a mother, and it had happened so suddenly! An idea flashed through her mind, and she asked, “Do you know how to play chess?”

Zhao Zhiger hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I do.”

To her embarrassment, Song Luan, being a modern person, only knew the rules of Go but couldn’t actually play. In short, she could understand it, but she couldn’t make the moves. She smiled and said, “We won’t play Go today. I’ll teach you a new game.”

Zhao Zhiger had never heard of another way to play. His large, shiny eyes, like black grapes, were fixed on her as he obediently nodded. “Okay.”

Song Luan retrieved a fine set of chess pieces from the cabinet. Sitting cross-legged on the soft couch, she placed a low table between them. She explained the rules of Five-in-a-Row to Zhao Zhiger.

The child was incredibly quick-witted. After hearing the rules once, he understood them immediately.

The afternoon light was softer than at any other time of day. Lazy golden rays filtered through the window panes, casting warm, bright beams into the room.

The mother and son sat quietly together. Song Luan held the white pieces, while Zhao Zhiger held the black ones.

Song Luan was completely absorbed in the game, unaffected by anything around her. She pinched a white piece between her fingers, resting her chin on her hand as she focused intently on the board. After a long pause, she carefully placed her piece, being cautious. After all, she didn’t want to lose to a child.

Zhao Zhiger was playing especially attentively. In fact, he had let his mother win several times, both consciously and unconsciously, but it seemed like she didn’t notice and kept making mistakes.

Before they knew it, over an hour had passed.

Song Luan yawned and asked, “Zhao Zhiger, are you tired? Do you want to take a nap?”

Zhao Zhiger, picking up on her cue, reluctantly put down the chess piece. “A little tired. I’ll go back now.”

His tone had shifted back to that distant, formal manner.

Song Luan couldn’t resist and reached over to pinch the little face she had been eyeing for so long. Smiling, she said, “You can sleep here with me. I need a nap too, so let’s sleep together.”

Zhao Zhiger froze for a moment, the spot where she pinched him quickly turning bright red. His face was burning with embarrassment—he had thought that his mother was impatient with him and wanted him to leave.

His voice was barely a whisper, tinged with shyness. “Okay.”

Song Luan took his small hand and led him into the inner room. At only four years old, Zhao Zhiger seemed capable of doing everything by himself. He neatly took off his shoes, removed his outer garment, and lay down in the bed in the proper position, not daring to move around.

Song Luan climbed into bed beside him, covered them both with the blanket, and said softly, “Sleep now.”

Zhao Zhiger closed his eyes, and after a while, Song Luan shifted closer, gently pulling him into her arms.

The little boy didn’t move at all. Even when he opened his eyes, he didn’t dare to sleep, fearing that when he woke up, everything would be gone again.

However, Zhao Zhiger eventually couldn’t resist the pull of sleep. Drowsy, he fell asleep in her arms. Outside the window, the sky gradually darkened as the sun began to set, the golden light becoming dimmer.

As the evening approached, the door creaked open, and Zhao Nanyu entered. His black boots made no sound on the soft carpet as he walked in, his dark attire adding an air of coldness and authority around him.

He stood in the doorway of the inner room, backlit by the fading light, watching the two sleeping figures in the bed. His eyes, always gentle and soft, slowly lost their mask, revealing the concealed malice, darkness, and terrifying need for control lurking beneath.

The woman in the bed was fast asleep, her collar slightly open, revealing her snowy-white neck and delicate collarbones to his gaze.

Zhao Nanyu lowered his eyes, hiding the dark gleam in them.

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