Chapter 281: Picking Up My Son from School

In the autumn afternoon of 1962, the sunlight shed the scorching heat of summer, becoming warm and bright, like a piece of melted golden honey spreading over the Siheyuan's gray tiled eaves and the uneven road of the Alley.

The whistle from the Steel Rolling Mill at shift's end sounded long, startling a few sparrows foraging on the eaves.

Li Ping'an took off his oil‑smelling work clothes, changed into a clean, half‑worn Zhongshan suit, and his steps were a little lighter than usual. Picking up his son from kindergarten was the most anticipated relaxing moment of his workday.

The daycare run by the street office was not far from the Siheyuan; it was a small courtyard converted from an old Siheyuan. Even before reaching the gate, one could hear the childish clamor inside, like a brood of newly hatched sparrows chattering, full of vigorous life.

Li Ping'an stood outside the slightly weathered wooden door, his gaze instantly fixed on the small figure in a blue cover‑over, squatting in the corner sandpit and diligently building a "castle"—it was his son Yaozong. The little fellow's brow was slightly furrowed, his chubby hand carefully patting the sand, his expression so focused as if completing a remarkable work of art.

"Little Li Yaozong, your dad's here to pick you up!" the caregiver aunt shouted with a smile toward the sandpit.

Yaozong jerked his head up, his glossy black eyes instantly brightening as if they had fallen into stars. He immediately dropped the nascent "castle," neglecting the sand‑covered little hand, and, like a tiny cannonball, "thump thump thump" he charged toward Li Ping'an, shouting crisply while running, "Dad! Dad!"

Li Ping'an squatted down, spread his arms, and steadily caught the enthusiastic "little cannonball." The youngster burst into his arms with a fresh scent of sunshine and soap‑bean, hugged his neck, and giggled.

"Take it easy, what if you fall?" Li Ping'an said, his face already breaking into a smile, reaching out to gently brush the sand off his son's body and hands, "Were you good at kindergarten today? What did you play?"

"Good! Very good!" Yaozong nodded vigorously, then began reporting finger by finger, "Teacher Zhang taught us to sing 'Little Swallow'! I also played 'Eagle catches chicks' with He Xiao and Xiao Jun! I was the chick, He Xiao was the eagle; he wasn't as fast as me, couldn't catch me!" His little face lifted, showing obvious pride.

"Is that so? That impressive?" Li Ping'an smiled, pinching his little nose, and smoothly took the small backpack the caregiver handed over, "Say goodbye to the teacher and the other kids."

"Good‑bye, Teacher Zhang! Good‑bye, friends!" Yaozong waved his little hand, his voice loud, prompting a few children who hadn't been picked up yet to shout goodbye as well.

At that moment, Sha Zhu shuffled over to pick up He Xiao. Seeing his dad, He Xiao ran over excitedly, and the two little ones immediately huddled together, chattering about their "Eagle catches chicks" experiences.

"Hey, my son, follow me, you're quick!" Sha Zhu scooped up He Xiao, slung him onto his shoulder, and said proudly to Li Ping'an.

Li Ping'an watched He Xiao shouting excitedly on Sha Zhu's shoulder, then looked down at Yaozong, who was still holding his hand and chattering nonstop, and smiled, "Hmm, they're quite agile."

The two fathers, each with their son, walked side by side down the Alley on the way home. The setting sun stretched their shadows long.

"Dad, look! Ants!" Yaozong suddenly slipped out of Li Ping'an's hand, squatted on the ground, and curiously observed a line of black ants busily transporting food crumbs.

Li Ping'an also stopped, patiently staying with him, "They're preparing food for the winter."

"Where is their home? Does their mother come to pick them up after school?" Yaozong lifted his little face, firing question after question.

"Their home is underground. The ant mother doesn't need to pick them up; they can find their way home on their own." Li Ping'an explained in language a child could understand.

This warm scene, when it fell into the eyes of Xu Damao, who had just returned from a stroll outside, made his eyes sting. He pursed his lips and muttered sarcastically, "Well, look at this dad, quite good at playing the loving father! Who's he putting on a show for?" He was restless because his plan to align with Li Huaide had stalled, and everything he saw seemed off‑putting.

Just as they hurried to the Siheyuan gate, they ran into Yan Jiefang and his brother Yan Jiekang of the Yan Bu Gui family from the Front Courtyard. The brothers were holding homemade slingshots, aiming at the sparrows in the tree. Yaozong saw them, instantly let go of Li Ping'an's hand, ran over, eyes glued to the slingshots in their hands.

"Brother Jiefang, can I try it?" Yaozong asked in a soft, syrupy voice.

Yan Jiefang, a sixth‑grader, was at the age of loving to play. He wanted to refuse, but seeing the calm Li Ping'an standing not far away, the words he was about to say got swallowed, and reluctantly handed over the slingshot, "Here, be careful, don't break it."

Yaozong took it gladly, waving it clumsily, his little face full of wonder.

Li Ping'an watched his son's interaction with the other kids, nodding slightly in his mind. He didn't want Yaozong to seem out of place because of their slightly better circumstances; being able to mingle normally with his peers was a good thing.

Back at Xi Kua Yuan, Lin Xueqing had already prepared dinner. A simple Bangzi Noodle Porridge, a dish of shredded pickled vegetables, and a plate of stir‑fried greens. Seeing the father and son return, she smiled gently, "Back? Go wash your hands and eat."

"Mom! I sang today! I was also the chick!" Yaozong rushed to his mother, then began recounting his "great achievements."

Lin Xueqing listened patiently, occasionally echoing a line, and deftly ladled porridge for the father and son.

After dinner, the sky was not yet fully dark. Li Ping'an held his son on a stone bench in the courtyard, pointing to the earliest‑shining star on the horizon, "Yaozong, look, that's the Morning Star."

"Dad, will the stars fall?"

"No, they're far, far away from us."

"Do they sleep at night?"

"Maybe…."

The father and son chatted intermittently with innocent, whimsical child talk, while Lin Xueqing, beside them, patched her clothes in the fading daylight, a satisfied smile at the corner of her mouth.

In that moment, the fatigue of work, the factory's disputes, the courtyard's scheming, all seemed swept away by the cool autumn night breeze and the warmth of the child in his arms.

For Li Ping'an, this plain, petty after‑work routine—picking up his son from kindergarten, listening to his ramblings about kindergarten fun, answering his wildly imaginative questions—was the most precious, warm solace in these hard times. It reminded him that all his effort and protection were for the peace and joy within this small corner. It reminded him that all his effort and protection were for the peace and joy within this small corner.

Every bit of his son's growth, every smile, was the achievement he was most proud of since he crossed over. Night slowly draped over the Siheyuan, and under the lights of Xi Kua Yuan, the warmth was thick.