Chapter 296

Time flowed like the dripping water from the eaves of a siheyuan, slipping away unnoticed.

By the end of the first lunar month, a faint warmth finally slipped through the biting cold wind, and the stubborn snow in the shaded corners of the walls finally melted into damp traces.

Lin Xueqing strictly observed the traditional postpartum confinement, never leaving the house for a full month.

That afternoon, taking advantage of the rare moment when both little ones were asleep, Lin Xueqing sat on the edge of the kang, lowered her head to sniff her collar, then lifted her hand to smell her cuffs, and her delicate brows furrowed involuntarily.

Although Li Ping'an wiped her down daily with warm spirit spring water and kept the room spotless, she still felt a lingering, peculiar odor mixing milkiness and sweat on her body, her hair felt greasy against her scalp, and she was altogether uncomfortable.

"Really… it stinks." She muttered to herself, an urgent desire to bathe and cleanse sprouting like spring grass. The image of her formerly fastidious self at Yi Yuan overlapped with her present motherly scent, giving rise to a hard‑to‑describe sense of grievance and irritation.

After finally waiting for Li Ping'an to return from work, he had just taken off his coat and hadn't even had a chance to check on their precious daughter when Lin Xueqing went up to him, her face showing a rare mix of bashfulness and determination.

"Ping'an… you're back." Her voice was soft, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes. "I… I want to go to the bathhouse with Dongmei for a soak." She lifted her eyes, full of longing. "I feel awful all over. I haven't bathed in a month, and I smell. You watch the two kids at home—I need a good wash to get rid of the odor."

Hearing this, Li Ping'an was momentarily startled, then his gaze fell on his wife's slightly weary yet still lovely face; seeing the hopeful anticipation in her eyes, his heart softened and a wave of pity welled up.

How could he not understand her feelings? Over the past month, he had seen all the hardship and restraint she endured for the children.

He smiled gently, stepped forward, and naturally put his arm around her shoulders, feeling her body tense slightly before relaxing. He spoke softly: "If you want to go, go—it's good; it'll loosen you up and lift your mood. Nuanqing and her brother are well behaved; I can watch them."

Lin Xueqing's eyes lit up, her face instantly blooming with radiance like a lotus after rain.

But Li Ping'an shifted tone, speaking with a touch of teasing yet utter pragmatism: "Well, Comrade Lin, your plan has a snag. Look, it's dinnertime now; if you two go on empty stomachs, you'll come back starving after your bath, faced with two kids who might be waking up cranky—that scene would be quite a spectacle. My cooking could manage, but doing the meals and watching two kids alone would have me scrambling, like a 'Dad, Where Are We Going? Kitchen Nightmare'."

He mimicked a storyteller's tone, making Lin Xueqing burst out with a "pfft" laugh, and much of her unease and resentment dissipated.

"Well… what should we do?" she asked, blinking her eyes.

"In my opinion," Li Ping'an said confidently, "let's first cook the meal, eat dinner, then go. I'll start now, rustle up something simple so we can eat and drink our fill. You, go to the Central Courtyard and say hello to Ma Dongmei, set a time. After we finish eating, I'll handle the dishes and watch the kids, while you two can head to the bathhouse and soak to your heart's content. How does that sound?"

Hearing this orderly plan, Lin Xueqing felt warm and reassured inside. She nodded firmly: "Okay, I'll follow your lead!"

At once, Li Ping'an tied on an apron, rolled up his sleeves, and got busy in the small kitchen. He moved swiftly—scooping rice, washing vegetables, lighting the stove. To save time, he made a simple mixed-rice porridge, reheated the previously steamed buns, quickly stir‑fried a plate of glossy yellow eggs, and sliced a dish of salted vegetable strips. Though simple, it was steaming and fragrant.

Lin Xueqing then went to Sha Zhu's home in the Central Courtyard. Ma Dongmei was nursing one child while watching Sha Zhu clumsily try to change the other's diaper, the house filled with a busy yet slightly chaotic atmosphere.

Upon hearing Lin Xueqing's purpose, Ma Dongmei's eyes lit up as if she'd seen a savior: "Oh dear! My good sister! You've spoken straight to my heart! I'm about to rot from this smell! Sha Zhu's clumsy hands can't even wash a basin clean—let alone how awful that is!" She immediately shouted at Sha Zhu, "Did you hear? I'm going to the bathhouse with Xueqing! You watch the kids!"

Sha Zhu, meanwhile, was flailing as his son's relentless kicks kept him busy; hearing this, he didn't even look up: "Go, go, go! Hurry up! Let me have a moment of peace too! Those two little ancestors…"

Having agreed on a time, Lin Xueqing returned to the West Wing Courtyard and she and Li Ping'an hastily ate dinner. Li Ping'an ate quickly; without a word he pressed her into a chair: "Rest, don't lift a finger—you still have to go bathe later, conserve your strength." He himself swiftly cleared the dishes and took them to the kitchen to wash.

As dusk fell and the lanterns had not yet been lit, the scent of food drifted from every household in the siheyuan. Lin Xueqing and Ma Dongmei each carried a net bag holding fresh clothes, towels, and soap pods, meeting at the courtyard gate. They exchanged a smile, each seeing in the other's eyes the eager anticipation of imminent 'liberation'.

"Let's go, Xueqing!"

"Yeah, Dongmei!"

The two young mothers' silhouettes quickly vanished into the alley's twilight, their steps light as if they had shed a thousand‑jin burden.

Li Ping'an stood at the gate of the West Wing Courtyard, watching them leave, then turned back inside. In the room, the two little ones lay side by side on the kang; little Nuanqing waved her tiny hands, uttering "ee‑ee‑ya‑ya," while the older son played with his toys on his own.

Li Ping'an's face softened into a gentle smile; he sat on the edge of the kang, lightly holding his daughter's small hand, and whispered: "Dear, it's just Daddy keeping you company now—let's be good and wait for Mommy to come back fragrant and fresh, okay?"

He could easily imagine the bathhouse now—steam filling the air, voices clamoring. The warm water would wash away Lin Xueqing's month‑long fatigue and discomfort, and cleanse the nervousness and anxiety of new motherhood. When she returned, she would surely be relaxed in mind and body, her appearance refreshed.

This, precisely, was within his power and the very happiness he most wished to create for her. The mutual understanding and support in these ordinary days far outweighed any dramatic plot, bringing a deeper sense of warmth and steadiness.