On the sixteenth day of the first lunar month, Wang Xiaoliang drove Wei Zijin to the airport again.
They were not alone in the car. Luo Bisheng sat in the passenger seat; after dropping Wei Zijin off, they would go to work together.
Liu Xinyu's mother was in the back seat too, talking nonstop.
Yang Qingyu had given birth to a daughter weighing six jin and eight liang.
It had happened on the Lantern Festival, a few days before her due date.
Liu's Mother scrolled through the photos on her phone, holding them up to Wei Zijin one after another. "Look at that little mouth, that little nose. She's the spitting image of Qingyu."
She swiped through one photo after another, going back and forth over the same few.
Wei Zijin leaned over to look and offered sincere compliments several times.
Liu's Mother reached a photo of Liu Xinyu holding the baby and laughed. "Look at that silly boy. He doesn't even know how to hold her. Time flies. Our son's already a father. How could we not be getting old?"
Wei Zijin sighed too. "It really does. This New Year holiday went by so fast. It feels like I only just got here, and now I'm leaving."
Both were lamenting how quickly time passed, but they were not talking about the same thing.
"Doesn't it just?" Liu's Mother put away her phone and patted the back of Wei Zijin's hand. "Zijin, you and Xiaoliang should get a move on too. Have a few children while you're still young."
Wang Xiaoliang glanced in the rearview mirror and chimed in. "Auntie, we're already planning on it."
"Oh, that's wonderful." Liu's Mother was happy for a couple of seconds, then changed the subject with a sigh. "Actually, I've always worried about Qishan.