Chapter Eleven

Xie Junting couldn’t bear to blink, his eyes fixed intently on the woman in the turquoise dress not far away. The sting in his eyes grew deeper until he finally blinked, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions surging within him, reddening the corners of his eyes.

“Mother, is this a dream?” he whispered softly, afraid that speaking any louder would shatter this precious dream.

Usually decisive, Xie Junting found himself frozen now that the woman he had longed for day and night stood so close. Yet he dared not step forward, only gazing at her cautiously with reddened eyes.

Shi Lingyao’s heart shattered. Her little treasure.

Though ten years had passed since they last saw each other, the familiarity the boy evoked was etched deep within her bones, as if their bond had never been severed. The moment their eyes met, she knew without doubt—this was her child.

“This is no dream, my little treasure,” she said gently, calling him by his childhood nickname. A sharp ache struck Xie Junting’s nose, and large tears traced down his youthful cheeks.

His eyes seemed to have unleashed a torrential downpour.

Shi Lingyao’s heart tightened, aching and tender all at once.

She opened her arms to the boy who stood frozen, hesitant to approach, smiling softly as she had done in days long past.

“Come here, let your mother look at you properly.”

Drawn by her gentle call, Xie Junting could no longer hold back. He took long strides toward the long-missed warmth of her embrace.

Her warmth, her fragrance, her voice.

Exactly as he had treasured in his memories.

Closing his eyes, tears slid down his elegant nose, moistening the turquoise fabric of Shi Lingyao’s clothing.

Xie Junting was taller and leaner than others his age. He had to bow his head and bend down for Shi Lingyao to embrace him with ease.

Though tall and strong-looking, he still seemed fragile. Shi Lingyao’s hand trembled as she stroked his quivering back, feeling the torrent of restrained emotion crashing like a flood.

Like when she used to lull him to sleep, she gently patted his back again and again.

She wished to say something to distract him—seeing him cry so bitterly pained her deeply.

“I won’t disappear again. I’ll stay with you, stay with Da Bao.”

Shi Lingyao took out a handkerchief and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

It was the same handkerchief she had carried when she left ten years ago—soft silk embroidered with red peach blossoms and green leaves, still imbued with her scent, gently pressed against his tear-streaked, flushed face.

His face, chilled by the falling tears, warmed under her tender touch as if spring had returned.

Xie Junting found his mother’s voice so sweet and soothing that everything she said brought him contentment and joy.

But then, resting his head on Shi Lingyao’s shoulder, he nuzzled and mumbled, “Mother, please take care of me. Brother isn’t here now.”

Having a son taller than herself lean on her shoulder and act so tenderly made Shi Lingyao sigh inwardly yet feel deeply gratified.

Her warm hands continued to soothe his back, emotions swirling in her heart.

Not long ago, he had been a stumbling toddler, yet now he was taller than her; to hold him, he had to bow his head and bend over to accommodate her.

Shi Lingyao marveled at the relentless power of time. Gradually, Xie Junting regained his composure. Though reluctant, he straightened up from his mother’s embrace, mindful that they were still outside.

It was then he noticed something strange.

His mother was a year younger than his father and now in her early thirties.

Yet before him stood a woman radiant and delicate, her flawless face unmarked by the years, her clear, serene apricot eyes free from the weariness and gloom typical of middle age—just as they had always been.

Xie Junting stared in disbelief. “Mother, are you actually a peach blossom spirit?”

Shi Lingyao was taken aback. A peach blossom spirit?

Xie Junting’s suspicions deepened, and his emotions oscillated between gloom and excitement. He scolded, “Father forbade having peach blossom trees or anything related in the house. Otherwise, you could have taken possession of the peach blossoms and come to see me sooner!”

Initially embarrassed by her son’s wild imagination, Shi Lingyao’s heart soon swelled with complex feelings upon hearing his indignant words.

Xie Zongwei did not want to see peach blossoms.

Was it because she had once been careless, distracted by their beauty, that all this happened?

The thought barely formed before Shi Lingyao ruthlessly extinguished it.

Hadn’t she made enough foolish mistakes already?

When facing a shameless scoundrel who knew no self-restraint, such thoughts were utterly pointless.

“My little treasure, I’m human. Can you feel that?” she asked, lightly stroking his cheek. Xie Junting blushed slightly, earnestly sensing her warmth, and nodded.

Shi Lingyao had hesitated over how to explain to her two children that she was still alive. Then she realized that no matter how extraordinary the truth, to those who love you, it’s not so strange.

One lie requires many more to cover it up. If she slipped up, it would only be more embarrassing.

“What I’m about to say might be hard for you to accept...”

Before Shi Lingyao could finish, Xie Junting interrupted hastily, “No! As long as you stay with me and never leave, I’ll do anything!”

Her son was truly reliable—far better than that old rogue.

Shi Lingyao tenderly stroked his face and recounted how she had awakened beneath the peach blossom tree in Shanshui Village, finding the world had changed.

At the end, she looked at his somewhat dazed expression and hesitated, “My little treasure, will you believe me?”

Xie Junting nodded instinctively, his expression dazed. “Mother, you really are a peach blossom spirit...”

How did this child come to believe so firmly in the peach blossom spirit theory?

Shi Lingyao sighed. Perhaps there were fates she could not comprehend. She whispered,

“By fate’s grace, I am already very happy to return to you and Da Bao.”

Xie Junting was about to nod when he keenly sensed the subtle implication in her words.

She only mentioned him and his elder brother.

What about Father?

He hesitated only briefly before gladly pushing the old man from his mind, carefully taking his mother’s hand and nodding, “Yes! Mother, you’re back. Whatever you do, I’ll be with you!”

Fortunately, the alley was quiet, with no passersby. The mother and son spoke warmly for quite some time.

Shi Lingyao mentioned how she had just gone to the academy gate looking for them. Xie Junting’s expression darkened, but before he could reply, she casually revealed his escapade of climbing over the wall to skip school.

Lowering his eyes, Xie Junting braced for his mother’s scolding.

No matter if it was Father, elder brother, or the matriarch—no matter how much they loved him—they always scolded fiercely when faced with his mischief and bad conduct.

But he thought Mother was different. Whatever she said, he would accept.

“Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Xie Junting was startled.

He looked up to see his mother’s eyes filled with worry and tenderness, his nose stinging again. He quickly lowered his head and, trying to sound indifferent, said, “The wall wasn’t very high. I could climb it even with my eyes closed!”

Shi Lingyao still looked uneasy. She pinched his arm gently, brushed the dust from his clothes, and said softly, “Even if the wall’s low, don’t climb over it again.”

Xie Junting nodded earnestly.

If his father or brother had seen this scene, they would surely wonder who this obedient child was.

It certainly wasn’t the second son of the Xie family.

The overwhelming joy of reuniting with her youngest son was like a refreshing rain, bathing Shi Lingyao in complete happiness—until now, when a sharp pain radiated from her ankle, knitting her brows.

Xie Junting’s gaze followed her closely. He noticed the brief furrow and immediately asked, “Mother, are you hurt anywhere?”

He treated her like a precious treasure, his anxiety palpable.

Shi Lingyao’s heart melted at the concern shining in his eyes and voice.

She wanted to stroke his head but hesitated; he was standing so straight that she couldn’t reach.

She wondered how these children grew so tall. She recalled that she and her brother had not even reached such height at eleven or twelve.

Suppressing the subtle melancholy in her heart, Shi Lingyao shook her head. “I’m fine.”

She briefly recounted how she had escaped a startled horse. Upon hearing this, Xie Junting’s face darkened with disdain. When she described the horse’s appearance, he said, “It must have been that little wretch Liang Huaijing! He’s always bullying people, drunk and disorderly, and now he even hurt you. I—”

Shi Lingyao hurriedly interrupted, fearing he might vow revenge. She deftly changed the subject.

“Liang Huaijing? That name sounds familiar somehow.”

Xie Junting restrained himself from showing any unpleasant expression in front of his mother. He snorted softly, looking genuinely adorable.

Shi Lingyao wanted to stroke his head again.

“Liang Huaijing is the son of my aunt’s second uncle’s household. Now he’s the only male in the Liang family and has been spoiled rotten.”

After commenting, Xie Junting realized he might not be much better in other people’s eyes and quickly added, “Mother, don’t worry about those insignificant people. I’ll find a way to get justice for you!”

Thinking of Xie Yongxi, Shi Lingyao’s smile faded.

She reached out, and Xie Junting lowered his head without hesitation.

She patted her son’s hair in contentment. His hair was soft and black, unlike the stiff, high-bound style of grown men.

Still, she warned, “Stay away from people like him. He fell hard from his horse today and probably got hurt badly. Such a despicable person will get his comeuppance without my son needing to lift a finger.”

Her words brimmed with deep affection, and Xie Junting, soothed, nodded dazedly.

Shi Lingyao’s ankle was injured. No matter what, Xie Junting insisted on escorting her back to the inn.

She hesitated—should the boy focus on his studies now?

But when she saw those large eyes resembling hers looking up at her pitifully, full of admiration, she couldn’t resist and nodded.

Mother and son returned to the small room where Shi Lingyao was temporarily staying.

Xie Junting looked around, dissatisfied with everything.

Shi Lingyao, however, was at ease and even teased him to come drink water. “You never liked water as a child, but you were always eager to eat egg custard. Your brother eats everything; when you went to grab his egg custard, you didn’t even cry.”

Hah, he had been such a good actor since childhood!

Xie Junting took the water in a gulp, smiling, “Delicious! Mother, did you pour me some nectar from the Jade Pool?”

...She was definitely not a peach blossom spirit!

“My little treasure, are you free tomorrow? I want to see Da Bao. The three of us can have a meal together, how about that?”

He was already going to be with Mother—what need to bring Xie Junyan along?

Xie Junting wasn’t thrilled but couldn’t refuse when he saw the hopeful look on Shi Lingyao’s face.

Suddenly, an idea struck him.

“Mother, our twelfth birthday with Brother is coming up soon. I’ll tell him you’re back then. He’ll be even happier!”

Shi Lingyao thought that was a good plan.

After a few days’ rest, her ankle would heal, and she could appear before Da Bao looking radiant.

Seeing her nod, Xie Junting smiled, “Good. Then we’ll have Xie Junyan treat us to a nice meal!”

Just so he could enjoy Mother’s attention all to himself for a few days.

Xie Junting—how could anyone be as clever as you in this world!

He beamed with pride, but Shi Lingyao caught a subtle hint in his inadvertent attitude.

It seemed the relationship between Da Bao and Xiao Bao was somewhat tense.

After a moment’s worry, Shi Lingyao’s anger flared anew.

It was all that old scoundrel Xie Zongwei’s fault. How did he even raise his children?