Four years had passed like petals drifting on a slow stream. Lin Kai was now five years old, his days filled with laughter, crayons, and the soft rhythm of kindergarten life.
The sun hung high over the schoolyard as he ran across the playground, his black-and-red hair catching the light like flickers of flame. His classmates chased him, giggling, calling his name.
"Lin Kai! Wait!"
He turned, smiling brightly. His face had grown sharper, but still held the softness of childhood. His eyes—violet and wide—sparkled with mischief.
The teacher clapped her hands. "Children, time for class!"
The group scattered, running toward the building. Lin Kai followed, his steps light, his heart full.
Inside the classroom, the day unfolded with songs, stories, and simple lessons.
Lin Kai sat near the window, occasionally glancing outside, his mind absorbing everything. He had made quite an impression when he first arrived—his unique hair, his quiet confidence, his gentle smile. Friends came easily to him.
At 1:00 p.m., the bell rang. The children packed their bags, voices rising in cheerful chatter.
"Bye, Lin Kai!"
"See you tomorrow!"
He waved at them, then turned toward the gate—where Lin Mei stood waiting.
She wore a casual dress, soft beige with floral embroidery, her hair tied loosely behind her. Even in simplicity, she looked stunning. A few parents glanced her way, whispering quietly. Lin Kai ran to her, arms wide.
"Mom!"
She knelt, catching him in a hug. "Did you have fun today?"
"Yes! We made paper boats and sang songs. I helped Ruo with his drawing!"
Lin Mei smiled, brushing a leaf from his shoulder. "That's my boy."
They walked home together, Lin Kai chattering about his day, Lin Mei listening with quiet warmth. Her responses were soft, her laughter gentle. She held his hand, occasionally squeezing it, her heart light.
At home, Lin Kai changed out of his uniform and joined his mother at the table. The meal was simple—rice, vegetables, and soup. He ate happily, telling her more stories between bites.
His sisters were still at school, their elementary campus more than six kilometers away. It was Yulan's duty to bring them home by 3:00 p.m. The girls were popular—beautiful, cheerful, and kind. Teachers adored them, classmates admired them.
The Lin household had settled into a rhythm. Mornings began with sleepy yawns, brushing teeth, warm baths, and hurried breakfasts. Then came school, followed by afternoon meals, stories, and laughter. Evenings were quiet, filled with games and soft lullabies.
Lin Ling remained calm and observant, Lin Ming cheerful and impulsive. Lin Yu, now five, was quiet in public but lively at home. She spoke gently, laughed often, and adored her siblings.
Lin Mei's work had expanded. She visited the branch occasionally, her presence commanding yet graceful. Her market reach had grown across the province, and though competitors emerged, she tackled them with strategy—securing deals, building alliances, and maintaining her lead.
Her relationship with Zhang Liu, however, remained unchanged.
He had grown irritable over the years, frustrated by the lack of intimacy, the emotional distance. Lin Mei remained uninterested, her focus entirely on her children and her work.
One afternoon, Han Zhe and Jing Lie arrived with their weekly report. Lin Mei sat in her study, reviewing documents, when Han Zhe spoke.
"Madam, Zhang Liu was found sleeping at his desk again. No productivity this week."
Lin Mei paused, her fingers stilling. She looked out the window, her gaze distant.
It's time, she thought.
She turned to Han Zhe. "Transfer him. To the northern branch. Frame it as a promotion."
Han Zhe nodded. "Understood."
Jing Lie added, "He'll be pleased. It's a larger office."
Lin Mei gave a faint smile. "Good. Let him think it's for his growth."
Later that week, Zhang Liu received the news. At first, he was thrilled. A promotion. A new branch. Recognition.
But then he thought of Lin Mei. Of the children. Of the house.
Will they miss me? he wondered. Will she?
He spent days thinking, pacing, staring at the ceiling at night. Finally, he made his decision.
I'll go. I'll make my own name. I won't live in her shadow anymore.
He approached Lin Mei in the living room, where she sat reading a story to Lin Yu.
"I've decided," he said. "I'll take the promotion."
Lin Mei looked up, her expression calm. Finally, she thought. Peace.
"That's good," she said. "If it's necessary for your growth, you should go. The decision is yours."
Zhang Liu smiled. "Thank you. I'm glad you support me."
He didn't know it was her plan all along.
That evening, they told the children. Lin Ling was the first to respond—walking up to her father and hugging him.
"Congratulations, Papa."
Lin Ming and Lin Yu followed, their eyes wide, their voices soft.
"You'll come visit, right?"
"Will you call us?"
Zhang Liu nodded, his heart heavy. "Of course."
Lin Kai watched quietly, his mind processing everything. He's leaving, he thought. The house will change.
After Zhang Liu's departure, the mood in the Lin household dipped. Meals were quieter, evenings slower. But within days, the rhythm returned.
Lin Mei told stories at night, her voice melodic, her arms wrapped around her children. She smiled more, laughed freely, her dreams filled with warmth.
She would wake with Lin Kai nestled beside her, Lin Yu curled against her arm, and the twins giggling in the corner.
This is peace, she thought. This is home.
And so the days continued—soft, steady, and full of love.