"Every day," Jin Shuren answered without hesitation.
Yueqin gave a small, satisfied nod, the movement rubbing her cheek against her mother's shoulder. "Then I think I like her," she said simply, as only a child could.
A faint curl of warmth stirred in Jin Shuren's chest at the words, though his stride remained steady.
He adjusted his hold on Yueyao just enough to shield both mother and daughter with the breadth of his frame, carrying them forward without once looking back.
Halfway down the stairs, Yueqin lifted one small hand from her mother's robe and reached up, her fingers brushing lightly against Yueyao's cheek.
The skin was warm, damp with the faint trace of tears that hadn't yet dried.
"Father," she whispered, glancing over at him with wide eyes, "why was she crying?"
Jin Shuren's steps didn't falter, but his gaze dipped briefly to the little girl. "Because she missed you," he said simply. The little girl was too young to digest the complexity of the entire matter.
