Reborn as the Villain's Wife, I Shine in 80s

Chapter 583: Return the Bright Pearl to the Lord (Part 2)

"You’re back." Tian Sangsang found it almost unbearable to look at him. "How did you go from refined to... a beast?"

"Ahem." Zhao Chun, holding Little Tangyuan, scratched the back of his head awkwardly, though his eyes still sparkled. "Should I go home and tidy up first?" He hadn’t even stepped into his own house; he came straight here to say hello.

Meng Shuyan wouldn’t let it go, tugging at Zhao Chun’s pant leg and pouting as he said to Tian Sangsang, "Chun Zisu has just matured!"

Tian Sangsang was momentarily speechless, outdone by her son’s comment.

Looking at Zhao Chun again, she smiled and asked, "Are you hungry? I’ll make you something to eat."

"I’ll do it," Zhao Chun offered, trying to take on the task.

"No need. Help me watch the two kids here instead."

Zhao Chun fixed his gaze on her. "Your voice is hoarse. Are you sick?"

"Just a cold." Tian Sangsang rubbed her forehead, resigned. "It’s no big deal, almost better now."

"Sigh—"

Zhao Chun, seeing no way to win the argument, sat on the sofa with Little Tangyuan in his arms. "Yanyan, how long has your mom been sick?"

"She caught a cold yesterday. She’s been very busy recently," Meng Shuyan said, furrowing his little brows.

Glancing toward the kitchen door, Zhao Chun reached out to ruffle his hair. "Uncle brought you a gift—a book."

Meng Shuyan lit up with excitement. He pulled the bag open to find a fairy tale book inside.

In the kitchen, Tian Sangsang laughed and cried for a while before finally making a big bowl of noodles. Ordinary homemade noodles, steaming hot, topped with a poached egg, some pickled vegetables, small greens, and a few other seasonings. Considering he had only just come back, it was most important to fill his stomach. Anything too fancy might upset it.

Zhao Chun’s eyes turned red as he ate, slurping noisily. "When I was away, I couldn’t ever cook for myself and missed homemade food the most." He cradled the bowl, sipping the broth, looking as though he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in years.

Tian Sangsang raised an eyebrow. "Is it really that good?"

Zhao Chun nodded. "Home-cooked is the best." Then he froze, as if realizing he’d said the wrong thing.

He looked up and caught her smiling eyes. It left him unsure whether to smile back or not.

Silently wiping the corner of his mouth, Zhao Chun picked up a bag. "This is for you."

"Hmm?" Tian Sangsang didn’t put on airs. She opened it and said, "Oh—a dress." Neatly folded, she didn’t spread it out, but she could see it was white with red flowers. The red and white combination wasn’t gaudy but had a simple charm she liked. It was the first time anyone had given her a gift.

Zhao Chun later went back to tidy himself up, changing into fresh clothes—white shirt paired with black casual trousers. He still hadn’t shaved his stubble; his excuse was that directors on set were older than him, and he wanted to "age up" a bit.

Tian Sangsang couldn’t be bothered with the group of them anymore. The burst of joy momentarily dispelled her fatigue, yet that vague emptiness from her cold crept back again. At night, when Zhao Chun was about to leave, the Little Tangyuan in his arms had fallen asleep, softly snoring, "Hoo, hoo, hoo~."

"Asleep?"

"Asleep."

Tian Sangsang took Little Tangyuan from his arms.

"Waaah waaah waaah..." The moment he switched to her arms, Little Tangyuan began crying loudly, his misty, drowsy eyes glaring at her in discontent.

The little look felt like a dagger to her heart.

He despised her for being a sick person.

Tian Sangsang tried soothing him, but the little guy kept crying, wriggling his tiny hands and feet.

"Give him to me." Zhao Chun couldn’t bear it anymore, taking the baby back into his arms and rocking him gently. "Tang Yuan’er, don’t cry."

"He wasn’t like this before," Tian Sangsang said with some spirit returning. "Could he be afraid I’ll pass him the cold? Such a small child, yet he already knows how to assess risks."

"I doubt it," Zhao Chun said, casting a glance at her. "He doesn’t even understand that."

Nevertheless, after a while, Little Tangyuan fell asleep again. But every time he was handed back to Tian Sangsang, he broke out in loud wails.

Hehe.

Tian Sangsang found it both frustrating and amusing, muttering to herself, "Fine, no more milk for you, you little brat!"

Zhao Chun couldn’t hold back laughter and raised an eyebrow. "Looks like he missed me too much and has feelings for me."

Of course, he meant it as a joke.

"Maybe he just hasn’t fully fallen asleep yet. Let me hold him a bit longer, and I’ll pass him to you when he’s settled."

Tian Sangsang waved it off. "Then I’m going to bed. Call me when he’s asleep." With that, she led Meng Shuyan to his room, helped him wash up and settle in, then returned to her own room to turn off the light and rest. Her dry throat felt unbearably uncomfortable.

After what seemed like a short nap, Tian Sangsang completely forgot about Little Tangyuan. In her half-sleep state, someone knocked on the door, startling her awake. She instinctively looked toward the window. Nothing was there, just Zhao Chun’s voice coming from outside the door.

"Come in."

Zhao Chun froze for a moment, then pushed the door open.

The room was pitch black, faint traces of moonlight spilling in, carrying a subtle fragrance.

Tian Sangsang climbed out of bed without turning on the light, taking Little Tangyuan and placing him in the cradle.

Standing in a woman’s bedroom felt inappropriate. Zhao Chun sheepishly touched his nose, ready to leave, but paused and said quietly, "Thank you." Tian Sangsang didn’t catch his words as she tucked Little Tangyuan in, stood up, and let her long hair cascade over her shoulders. "What did you say?"

In the dark, every sensation seemed amplified. Zhao Chun could feel her breath brushing against his eyes and face. He froze, his eyes wide open, his cheeks heating up.

Taking a step back, he turned his head slightly. "That script for *Backlight*—you were the one who made it happen, right? Thank you."

Moonlight poured in like water. Tian Sangsang saw his shadow projected against the curtain. Slowly, she reached out for his warm hand. "How will you thank me? Stay tonight?"

His gaze fell abruptly on her face, piercing the darkness in silence.

Tian Sangsang sensed his stare but didn’t meet it. Instead, she looked out the window.

"The moon must be full tonight." The moonlight glistened on her long lashes, which trembled as she narrowed her eyes, her tone part wistful, part mockery. "For thousands of years, the moon waxes and wanes. Back then, the ancients sighed over the fleeting nature of life, and now we read their poems and do the same. But where are they now? A hundred years from now, where will we be? Who will remember us? Perhaps our children, our grandchildren. But as generations pass, even our names will be buried beneath the earth. Nature brought us into being, and nature will ultimately lay us to rest."

"Sometimes I think, why overthink everything? Why let anyone get into our heads? Stillness, joy, silence, today. Don’t you think, Zhao Chun?" A tear slid down her cheek, her throat dry as if scorched by fire. It must be the cold making her so melancholic, so irrational. That had to be it. Hua Jun meant nothing. Jiang Jinghuai meant nothing. None of them could make her cry.

Under the luminous moonlight, he looked at her, her figure glowing as if enshrouded in a halo. Her features grew clearer. Poets often likened the moonlight to white, though he’d never fully understood the sentiment—until now. The moonlight was white, cold, lonely, and quiet.

Beneath flowers, beneath the moon, tonight, us.

...

The next day, Tian Sangsang’s cold miraculously disappeared; Zhao Chun, however, caught it.