Xiao Ning stayed awake all night while holding Shen Yunjie, feeding him water and medicine, and changing his cold compresses. Closer to dawn, the heat on Shen Yunjie’s forehead finally subsided, and his breathing gradually became steady.
The small door to the inner room was quietly pushed open. Xiao Yuan woke up and was rubbing his eyes, about to call for his father, when he looked up and saw the fierce-looking uncle sitting by his father’s bed. Scared, he quickly and tightly shut the small door. Xiao Ning got up and pushed the door open with one hand, and with the other, lifted Xiao Yuan, who was hiding behind it up. “Why are you hiding?”
Xiao Yuan whimpered and backed away, turning his wide, longing eyes toward the bed to call his father. Before he could speak, the super-fierce uncle clapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t wake your father.” Xiao Ning adjusted the boy in his arms and carried him downstairs. He placed a small stool in the courtyard, seated Xiao Yuan on it, and fetched a basin of water to wash his face.
Xiao Yuan was held by the neck while Xiao Ning washed his face, he repeatedly scrubbed the small face with his large hands, making the boy choke and stick out his tongue. “Uncle…” Xiao Yuan’s long eyelashes were beaded with water, and he kept rubbing his face with his small hands. Xiao Ning took a cloth, wiped his face clean, and flicked Xiao Yuan’s forehead with a bent finger. “Who told you to call me uncle?”
Xiao Yuan looked confused, unsure what he should call him. Xiao Ning pressed the small head into his palm and combed Xiao Yuan’s hair, then carefully tied two little pigtails.
“All done.”
Xiao Yuan bounced twice, and the little knots came undone. He obediently sat back down in front of Xiao Ning, waiting for the “uncle” to fix his hair again. Having no choice, Xiao Ning tied them once more. This time, Xiao Yuan didn’t dare to bounce anymore while holding onto the corner of Xiao Ning’s outer robe, meekly walking behind him.
“What do you want to eat?” Xiao Ning carried Xiao Yuan into the room.
Xiao Yuan thought for a moment and whispered, “Candied hawthorns.”
Xiao Ning nodded and handed him a large flatbread. “Eat this. Stay home and don’t run around. Your father is sick and needs to rest, so be good and don’t disturb him.”
Xiao Yuan held the flatbread, which was bigger than his face, and nodded.
Only then did Xiao Ning leave. He first went to the Sanyuan eating house on South Street and came out carrying a food box. Then he went to the small alley on East Street to buy candied hawthorns. On his way back, he stopped by the alley next to the street. Around the corner crouched a man with an old, tattered piece of clothing slung loosely over his shoulder; his long, disheveled hair was tied back in a careless knot, and a blade of wild grass hung between his lips. He was hammering away, repairing the door frames.
“Old Zhou.” Xiao Ning called out.
The overly unkempt Old Zhou looked up at the sound and squinted his eyes. “Oh, you actually came to help me fix the door frames?”
Xiao Ning raised an eyebrow and tossed the small jug of wine he was holding to him. “No time. He should be waking up, I need to go home.”
Old Zhou caught the jug, broke the seal, and took a whiff. A look of satisfaction crossed his face. “Hua Diao from the Sanyuan Eating House?”
“En. Thanks.” Xiao Ning waved his hand and strode away.
Shen Yunjie was still asleep when he arrived home. Xiao Ning changed the sweat-soaked undergarment on him and went downstairs to brew the medicine, keeping it warm on a small stove. After all this, the flatbread stall finally opened. Xiao Ning was kneading dough there while Xiao Yuan was sitting on the doorstep, tilting his head while eating candied hawthorns, taking a bite then turning to glance at Xiao Ning.
A little later, Xiao Ning felt a tug on his outer robe corner. He looked down to see Xiao Yuan gazing up at him, with the last two hawthorns still strung on the bamboo stick in his hand.
“What is it? Not tasty?” Xiao Ning crouched down to ask him.
Xiao Yuan shook his head and pointed at the two candied hawthorns in his hand. “This one is for Uncle, and this one is for Father.”
Xiao Ning paused for a moment, the look in his eyes softening. He reached out and pinched Xiao Yuan’s cheek. “I told you not to call me uncle.”
Xiao Yuan blinked his round eyes. “Then what should I call you?”
Before Xiao Ning could answer, a clear, crisp voice came from outside. “Brother Xiao Ning, whose child is this?” Xiao Ning looked up. Standing outside the door was a girl named Xiao Cui, whom he recognized as a regular customer. She was neatly dressed as she carried a wicker basket, her apricot eyes were full of smiles.
“He’s mine.” Xiao Ning declared without a moment’s pause before slapping the flatbread in his hand down onto the board.
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