Zhou Xiaohong never expected that Zhou Zhennan would simply wash his hands of such an important matter as her marriage to Hu Yaozong, choosing instead to focus all his attention on his newly recognized son.

Feeling dejected, she walked out of the house only to find Hu Yaozong waiting by the gate, leaning on his bicycle. He had clearly made an effort—his hair slicked with pomade and his leather shoes polished to a shine.

"Xiaohong, let me take you to the movies. It'll take your mind off things."

She shot him an annoyed look. "Who asked you to come? I don't want to go. Just leave me alone."

Unfazed, Hu Yaozong replied gently, "I can tell you're upset. A movie might help you relax. Don't worry—I won't try anything. And even if I did, all you'd have to do is yell, and I'd be in real trouble."

Xiaohong stayed silent, studying him quietly.

He offered a conciliatory smile. "Uncle and Auntie went to Longbei, didn't they? How about we go see them? If you have something on your mind, you should talk to them directly. It's not right to keep pretending—we shouldn't lie to them."

"Xiaohong, I like you, but I'd never force you into anything. I'd do anything to make you happy—even if it means going through fire and water."

His smooth-talking eventually wore her down, and she began considering taking him to Longbei.

But Hu Yaozong had ulterior motives. Away from Beijing, he would find a way to make Xiaohong his. Once this ice queen belonged to him, he thought, she'd have no choice but to obey.

Who Zhou Xiaohong married was none of Lin Xiaoxiao's business. After listening to Zhou Xiaoling's complaints, the two returned to the hospital room. By then, Li Yunlan was awake.

She was in the middle of telling Zhou Zhennan how Xiaoling had misbehaved and run off, causing quite a scare as people searched for her.

Holding Zhou Zhennan's hand, she said, "You can't spoil Xiaoling—she's too mischievous. If she keeps acting like this, she'll get into trouble someday. But... don't be too harsh when you discipline her. I don't want her getting hurt."

Zhou Zhennan responded patiently, "Alright, I'll make sure she behaves. She won't dare run off again."

Li Yunlan nodded. "Don't be too strict, though—you'll scare her." She paused. "Oh, and could you buy a chicken later? Huaian has lost weight. And is Xiaohong back from school? She looks thin too—she could use some nourishing food."

Xiaoling entered just in time to hear her mother's criticism. Pouting, she went over to the bed. "Mom, I've lost weight too. I want chicken."

Li Yunlan gave her a stern look. "With that attitude, the only place you're going is up—straight into trouble. I already told your father—he needs to teach you a lesson."

Watching them, Lin Xiaoxiao felt a pang of envy. Her own family used to be like this—her mother always telling her father to discipline her.

Zhou Zhennan, seeing that Li Yunlan seemed better, decided not to mention Xiaohong's marriage plans. He didn't want to upset her again.

They had lunch in the hospital room before Lin Xiaoxiao left for work. Xiaoling also returned to her job, leaving Zhou Zhennan alone with Li Yunlan.

Li Yunlan chatted about each of the children—one wasn't eating well, another seemed troubled.

When she mentioned Xiaohong, she sighed. "Zhennan, am I getting old? I keep thinking about when Xiaohong was little. Sometimes I wonder... did we pay too much attention to Xiaoling and neglect Xiaohong?"

Zhou Zhennan comforted her, "No, Xiaohong has always been sensible. She understands."

But Li Yunlan shook her head. "Jiang Qiong only had Xiaoling. We have to raise her well and keep her safe. It doesn't matter whether she becomes successful—as long as she's happy." She smiled faintly. "Xiaoling is so much like Jiang Qiong—just as lively and stubborn. If Jiang Qiong knew, she'd be happy."

Zhou Zhennan gently patted her hand. "Yes, Xiaoling is a good girl. All our children are."

"I may be confused, but I'm not foolish," Li Yunlan said. "Xiaohong thinks we're biased. She's so stubborn—it's going to cause her trouble one day."

Not wanting her to overexert herself, Zhou Zhennan softly said, "Don't overthink it. They're all adults now—they have to take responsibility for their own choices."

Li Yunlan grew quiet, as if trying to recall something important but unable to remember.

After her shift, Lin Xiaoxiao was surprised to find Zhou Huaian waiting for her again. He had borrowed a Yongjiu bicycle—a classic model that looked almost new.

She hurried over, smiling. "How long have you been here? I didn't see you earlier."

Relieved that she didn't seem angry about the previous night, Zhou Huaian replied, "I borrowed it from Old Zhong. How's your back? And your legs? Still sore?"

Lin Xiaoxiao blushed. How could he ask something so private so casually?

She pinched his arm lightly. "It's been a whole day—I'm not made of paper, you know. I'm fine. But you're cooking dinner tonight. I want millet porridge and stir-fried eggplant."

Zhou Huaian nodded. "Okay."

He swung his leg over the bike and settled onto the seat, then gestured for her to hop on.

Lin Xiaoxiao suddenly remembered a scene from the movie Comrades: Almost a Love Story—the heroine sitting on the back of the hero's bicycle, her skirt fluttering in the wind. It was a classic, romantic image repeated in countless films.

Feeling playful and a little romantic herself, she happily arranged her floral dress—a full-skirted trumpet cut that would look lovely blowing in the wind—and climbed onto the bike, holding onto his waist. "Let's go," she said.

But reality quickly interrupted her daydream. She urged him to pedal faster, but whether it was the wind or the fact that movie magic doesn't translate to real life, her skirt suddenly billowed sideways—right into the spinning spokes of the rear wheel.

Terrified, she yelled, "Stop! My dress is caught!"

Zhou Huaian braked immediately, but it was too late—a large section of her white floral skirt was now tangled and stained with black grease.

He helped her carefully pull the fabric free, but it was ruined.

On the verge of tears and laughter, she held up the soiled hem. It was a new dress—one she'd barely worn. "You owe me a new dress," she said, pouting.

"I'll buy you a new one," he agreed without hesitation.

Still upset, she grumbled, "It's brand new... You must not know how to ride properly."

In the end, she held her skirt firmly in place for the rest of the ride, all romantic fantasies thoroughly forgotten.

As soon as they got home, she rushed to change and see if the grease stain would come out.

When she emerged from the bedroom, Zhou Huaian was waiting by the door. He handed her a seal and a small booklet. "Take these. You can use them to collect my salary from the post office."