Children’s likes have always been shallow. Today they like Ultraman, tomorrow it’s toy planes. Today they stick to this one, tomorrow that one gives them a sugar-coated hawthorn skewer and they get coaxed away. But Xiao Bao liking Song Qing actually lasted a long time.
After listening to Song Qing play the guqin, he started following him from the morning, didn’t get tired the whole day. When he went to cook, Xiao Bao was still following behind to help.
At home, the kitchen on the left side needed to burn firewood, but the food cooked smelled good. After the family left, Song Qing would use that one to cook.
He was the type who didn’t like to trouble others. When cooking, he would first cut all the ingredients himself, then light the firewood underneath. After burning a few sticks, basically didn’t need to manage it anymore. Usually if Nan Zhi couldn’t find him, when she went looking and saw him, she’d take the opportunity to bring a cat, sit in front of the stove and heat the pot.
The cat would roast itself by the fire. When white smoke rose from the chimney on this side of the house and the cats saw it, they couldn’t stay inside. They’d scratch at the glass door wanting to come out.
Cats just liked warming by the fire. They were even more interested in the leaping flames. The room that burned coal didn’t have sparks, and was sealed tightly—so they actually preferred this side.
Ever since Xiao Bao became Song Qing’s little follower, Nan Zhi never again had the chance to bring the cats over to warm up or boil things—it was all done by the little follower.
This guy, in the house, was a little young master who stretched out his hand for clothes, opened his mouth for food. Yet he voluntarily went to work, and even did it happily, which gave the whole family a shock.
Mainly, Song Qing was even at ease about it. Usually, burning firewood was equivalent to playing with fire—it’s dangerous. At home, no one let Xiao Bao touch it. Even when Nan Zhi was small, her grandma thought she couldn’t handle it and didn’t let her do it. But Song Qing let him touch it.
He even taught him how to use the microwave, how to use the oven, etc. This at home would have been impossible—because they were afraid he’d fiddle with it himself. But Song Qing said, just explain the pros and cons clearly, that’s fine. He even told Xiao Bao, if you’re not sure, ask someone, and when using it, make sure someone is nearby.
Now Xiao Bao can heat milk by himself. He even knows that boxed milk can’t be heated—because inside there’s a layer of something like tin foil, which insulates heat. Aluminum foil in the oven also can’t go into the microwave—it’ll catch fire.
Probably just learned it. Before, whenever he wanted to drink hot milk, he’d hold the box and cup and ask this one to help heat, that one to heat it up. Now he runs over to ask Mom and Dad if they want to drink it, asks her if she wants to drink it, and goes to heat it for them.
He even knows how to bake things now.
Song Qing even taught him to knead dough and wrap dumplings, using the small rolling pin just his size, which made him overjoyed.
Now he follows him around every day. If there’s anything he doesn’t understand or doesn’t know how to use, he just asks him. Others aren’t willing to teach, afraid he’ll mess things up—only Song Qing isn’t like that.
Song Qing is also patient enough—he answers whatever is asked, just right for being a teacher.
Children’s questions really are endless—can ask from sky to earth all day long. Even parents with good tempers sometimes get screamed at by him. When Nan Zhi was drawing drafts, he’d come once every so often, again a moment later. On the surface she didn’t say anything, but deep inside she’d get a bit annoyed, couldn’t continue drawing, and simply went into the room, locked the door, and hid inside for peace and quiet.
Only Song Qing was the exception. So Xiao Bao really liked staying with him. Song Qing even taught him 3D modeling and how to build little games.
Nan Zhi: “……”
She looked on, clicking her tongue in amazement.
Main thing is, when asked whether Song Qing was annoyed, he said kids at this age were the best to take care of—they can run, jump, and even help with house chores. It’s great.
Nan Zhi: “……”
Her parents actually didn’t feel at ease. They privately asked her if Song Qing was annoyed. If he was, they’d take the child away and not let him get annoyed.
She relayed Song Qing’s original words, and only then did her parents feel relieved and hand the child over to him with peace of mind.
The two of them also had the most similar schedules—both slept around eleven at night, woke around seven or eight in the morning. This was when the whole family was still sleeping in—at least not awake until eleven.
Nan Zhi usually was like this. Her parents rarely had time to rest, wanted to sleep well.
Waking up alone, these two naturally became more in sync. Every morning after getting up, Xiao Bao’s first move was to run to find Song Qing.
Song Qing would cook a separate pot, and the two of them would eat breakfast, then start with playing a bit and doing a bit of chores.
Children will unconsciously imitate adults, especially those they admire, those they like.
Now that Song Qing is doing laundry, he goes to collect clothes, takes out his mom and dad’s dirty clothes, and also Nan Zhi’s.
When Song Qing hangs clothes, he follows behind carrying the basket.
When Song Qing sweeps the floor, wipes the table, he sweeps the floor—making his parents stare dumbfounded.
Even deliberately teaching couldn’t teach him to be like this.
Now if he doesn’t eat properly, or doesn’t take his nap properly, the family threatens him: they’ll stop letting Gege Song Qing accompany him—making him so angry he puffs up, angry and helpless, and can only obediently listen.
Before New Year, the whole family took action. From the yard to the third floor, everything was cleaned once over. Xiao Bao didn’t slack off either.
Red lanterns were also hung, the fu character [福, meaning “blessing” or “fortune”] was pasted up, couplets were glued onto the doors—everything prepared with joy and festivity for celebrating the New Year.
Because of his parents’ special professions, although the two of them had come back for a while, no one came to visit. In daily life, their doors were tightly closed. If someone didn’t know, they’d think no one lived in the house.
Now that his parents were home, their door was open all the way until bedtime at night, so many people came over to chat, talk a bit, and incidentally ask them to help take a look at scans.
When there was no topic, adults liked to tease children to play. Because Xiao Bao stuck especially close to Song Qing, someone joked about chasing Song Qing away so he could never see Song Qing again.
Before Nan Zhi could say anything, Xiao Bao was already fuming. He was a child, so Nan Zhi couldn’t say much—but he could.
He tugged at the person’s sleeve to drive them away, said they were a bad person, and told them not to come over again.
When that person pretended to enter the house to catch Song Qing, he blocked the doorway, crying and fussing, not letting them in, even went to grab a broom to hit them.
Anyway—he wasn’t going to let anyone get close to Song Qing.
After Song Qing’s leg inconvenience, the matter of her partner having a disability was found out, and soon, everyone in the village knew. More or less, they discussed it with her parents, saying it wasn’t going to work, they didn’t think highly of the two of them.
That their family wouldn’t need to find a disabled person, things like that. Her parents also couldn’t say anything straightforward, only tried to discourage it tactfully, saying: don’t say such things, Xiao Bao treasures Song Qing a lot. If he were here, he’d scold you. Anyway—don’t speak badly of Song Qing.
Those people could only fall silent.
There were also people who said things in a sarcastic tone in front of Xiao Bao, like: your jiejie is with Song Qing now, that means Song Qing is your jiefu [brother-in-law]. From now on, you’ll only be able to live every day with your jiefu, watching him, etc.
That person probably thought, since Song Qing’s leg was inconvenient, Xiao Bao would dislike him. If Song Qing became his jiefu, he’d have to live with someone he disliked every day.
But the child didn’t understand those things—on the contrary, he liked Song Qing, and only received the information that: Song Qing is with his jiejie now, so he’s his jiefu. If he’s his jiefu, then he can see Song Qing every day.
That made him so happy that he immediately changed the way he called him, chasing behind Song Qing’s butt calling him jiefu.
At that time Song Qing was cutting vegetables. That shout nearly made him slice his own hand. He wasn’t quite sure what her parents meant—were they against Xiao Bao calling him that? But Xiao Bao insisted. Even in front of Mom and Dad, he called him that.
Seeing that her parents didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping it, Song Qing then let him keep calling him that.
The first person in the family to acknowledge Song Qing was Xiao Bao.
Being patient and tolerant toward children, being someone that children like this much—for a person like that, their character and personality go without saying. Anyone would understand, and her parents naturally did too.
Before, they would still secretly try to listen for things about Song Qing. But now, they no longer inquire—probably felt there was no need to anymore.
Now Song Qing can’t stay idle. When he cooks, whoever in the house is free will roll up their sleeves and follow him into the kitchen to help—Xiao Bao boils the pot.
When Song Qing helps them with laundry, while they’re washing, they’ll also casually call Xiao Bao to bring out his clothes to wash together.
If there’s something tasty, they let Xiao Bao bring it over to share. Previously, Song Qing only rode in her car, followed her when going out.
But she gets up late. By the time she wakes, the daylilies have gone cold, and the morning market has already ended. Her parents, once in a while, still wake up quite early.
Song Qing could only watch them go out each time, and felt embarrassed to tell them what vegetables to buy, or what the house was lacking.
Later, when she woke up late again, and her parents had gone to catch the morning market, Song Qing was half-dragged, half-pulled by Xiao Bao onto her parents’ car. Then Xiao Bao shouted for Mom and Dad to help him load the wheelchair.
Having a child around is still very convenient for doing some things—not easy to do otherwise, but having him do it is most suitable.
For example, her parents bought New Year’s auspicious clothes for the whole family—all in bright red—and even had a set for him. But they were too embarrassed to give it to him directly, so they let Xiao Bao do it. Song Qing felt going out was inconvenient, and needing to prepare the wheelchair made it worse—he was embarrassed to call her parents. Xiao Bao wanted to help him get it, couldn’t lift it, so he called Mom and Dad himself.
With Xiao Bao around, even some of the slightly unfamiliar members of the family gradually adapted to one another. There was no big clash—it was like rain falling into a river, blending in without a sound or ripple.
Their interactions became more and more harmonious and in sync.
After passing through the early stage of unfamiliarity, they went together to buy firecrackers, fireworks, stayed up through New Year’s Eve, ate dumplings. On the first morning of the New Year, early in the morning, her parents called them all up, had them dress in the bright red auspicious clothes, and go pay New Year visits to others, collecting New Year red envelopes and candies.
In her parents’ eyes, she and Song Qing, and Xiao Bao too, were all children, so the two of them also had to go.
They left empty-handed, and came back with a pouch of candies and small red envelopes—just a few yuan each, not worth much, but very joyful.
There was also New Year’s money. Everyone had some, prepared by the elders for the younger ones—8,888 yuan per person. Song Qing had some too.
He felt a bit embarrassed to accept this money, and thought of spending it on Xiao Bao instead—taking Xiao Bao out to play. As a result, Xiao Bao set his eyes on a plane model, and in one go spent 18,000 yuan.
Normally, this guy would never spend money on this kind of thing. But under Xiao Bao’s sparkling eyes and his string of “jiefu” calls, he surrendered completely. For the sake of that “jiefu,” and not wanting to let him down, he grit his teeth and paid the money.
After returning home, he stayed depressed for a long time. He wasn’t really distressed about the money—it was just that he felt 18,000 yuan for a model airplane wasn’t worth it.
If the money had been spent on tutoring classes, or on a few sets of clothes—things actually useful in life—he wouldn’t have minded.
Having lived through poverty, he was used to buying things plainly and simply, with a lot of restraint.
Anyway, around eight or nine in the evening, this guy buried his head into her arms, voice muffled as he said: “That airplane model doesn’t even look that hard. For 18,000, I could carve three to five of them myself.”
“Spending that money on someone else is just too not worth it.”