The next few days were the liveliest the Si Household had seen in years.
Every morning, Qing'er came running to him right on time, clutching that star pendant and tilting her little face up for a hug.
Si Chen would carry her around the courtyard, watching Qing Li water the flowers, the clouds in the sky, and the distant mountain peaks.
Qing'er's favorite thing was being lifted high. Every time Si Chen raised her up, she giggled nonstop.
"Brother Chen, I want another hug tomorrow!"
"All right."
Black Mountain went back to being Third Uncle Granduncle's bear page.
Every day, he sat obediently on a little stool, listening to the old man teach lessons he had already repeated eight hundred times.
Third Uncle Granduncle taught earnestly, and Black Mountain listened earnestly too, though his mind wandered now and then.
Red Wind found the large rock he had loved most back in the day, assumed his true form, and sprawled on it for half the day at a time, utterly content.
Jiang Ling put on no airs either, joining Murong Li in learning to cook a few dishes at the Si Household.
More precisely, Murong Li cooked while she watched from the side.
Wearing an apron, Murong Li fumbled with the spatula. "Senior Jiang Ling, how much salt should I put in?"
Jiang Ling remained expressionless. "An appropriate amount."
"How much is an appropriate amount?"
"...Use your judgment."
"..."
As for Si Ming, he was still a man of few words, but every morning and evening, he came to sit in Si Chen's courtyard for a while.
Sometimes he said a few words; sometimes he simply drank his tea in silence.
And calling him "Brother" came more and more naturally.
One evening, after finishing his tea, he rose to leave,