She slept straight through until dusk. With the snow falling, night came early—the world outside was already cloaked in darkness.
Fu Zhiyé changed her clothes twice, wiped her sweat several times, and the rest of the time, simply held her in his arms as she slept.
At least with him by her side, she didn't slip back into nightmares.
Her throat still ached. Unable to help herself, she coughed softly; her head spun with dizziness.
"Baby, you're awake? Let me get you some water."
Ye Jing had just brought a glass to the bedside a while ago, still warm. Fu Zhiyé picked it up and gently helped her drink.
Obedient while ill, she took a few sips, her throat easing a bit, though her voice remained hoarse.
"Why am I here?"
She'd already forgotten how she'd cried to be brought home. Her fair fingers absentmindedly wiped away a drop of water lingering at the corner of her mouth.
"Our baby wanted to be with Mom, with Grandpa Rivers and Grandma Rivers, and even with little Niangao," he teased lightly.
"..."
Seeing her awake, Fu Zhiyé finally relaxed. "Don't talk too much now—your voice is shot."
Cecilia snuggled closer, and Fu Zhiyé took care to hold her properly. "Still need some pampering?"
"Yes," she nodded, looking guilty. "Sorry, I didn't know I was sick and made you worry."
"It's my fault. I should've noticed you weren't feeling well."
If only he'd been more attentive this morning, or let her sleep early last night, maybe this could've been avoided.
Neither spoke again; as if in perfect understanding, neither wanted the other to feel guilty.
Fu Zhiyé leaned against the headboard, and she curled up wholly in his embrace.
From her murmurings, Fu Zhiyé gathered what she'd dreamt about. He refrained from asking further, afraid to stir up worse memories.
Gently stroking her long hair, he patted her back in soothing rhythm.
Cecilia tilted her little head, reached up to touch his Adam's apple, and nuzzled into his neck.
Fu Zhiyé murmured, "Let's check your temperature again."
He fetched a thermometer, placing it under her arm, carefully holding her small hand in place as they watched the time tick by.
The fever had eased—37.8°C. He set the thermometer aside.
"Are you hungry? What would you like? I can have something brought up."
Cecilia shook her head. "Let's go downstairs to eat, so Grandpa Rivers and Grandma Rivers won't worry. I’d like to stretch my legs too."
Her body was still weary, but maybe a little walk would do her good.
Without much fuss, Zhiyé helped her into a thick coat right over her pajamas and took her downstairs.
As soon as they reached the bottom, the appetizing aroma of dinner wafted through the air. Grandma Rivers and the others were already waiting in the living room—it was almost time to eat.
She hadn’t been by much lately—busy with the art exhibit, and after picking up little Niangao last time, she hadn't found a spare moment.
Perhaps, in her subconscious, this house was her sanctuary—the one place where everyone who loved her gathered.
Grandpa Rivers, Grandma Rivers, Mom, and little Niangao—they were all here.
She had a warm, safe home at last.
Everything was different now.
Not even at the bottom of the stairs yet, Cecilia called out to her grandparents.
Her voice was still hoarse. Grandma Rivers instantly stood, hurrying up to take her hand. "Cecilia, are you feeling better? Does your throat hurt?"
"I'm fine, much better now."
Fu Zhiyé followed behind, adding, "The fever broke, but she’s still a little warm. She didn’t eat lunch either."
"Oh no, you didn’t eat?" Grandma Rivers turned to the kitchen and shouted, "Xiaoyun! Dinner’s ready! Cecilia hasn’t eaten anything yet!"
"Coming! Almost done—come eat!"
Normally, Grandma Rivers spoke gently and never raised her voice like this—but all for her sake. Cecilia felt a warm glow in her heart.
"Come on then, Grandma Rivers, let’s eat. But everyone keep a little distance from me."
She glanced towards the sofa. "Aunt Xu, thank you for taking care of little Niangao. I’m just afraid of passing on my germs."
It was just a cold, but Cecilia was still worried about contagion.
"It’s alright, Grandma Rivers doesn’t mind. You just stay away from Niangao for now."
Ye Jing came over too. "Yes, let’s eat first. I’ll look after Niangao tonight with Aunt Xu."
The whole family moved to the kitchen. Cecilia's throat still hurt, so she could only manage a little chicken soup.
Fu Zhiyé carefully picked the bones out of the steamed fish for her, placing the fillets into her bowl and affectionately ruffling her hair. "Be good—eat a little more."
"Mhm. You eat too."
After dinner, she didn’t linger downstairs. At the door, she watched little Niangao's babbling for a while—her heart softened by the child’s sweet sounds.
Soon, Fu Zhiyé took her back up to the bedroom.
He wouldn't let her take a shower, so she obediently climbed straight into bed.
Fu Zhiyé stepped out to make a call. Cecilia wrapped herself up in the blankets, quietly waiting for him. Left alone, a tide of anxiety crept in. Everything from her dream flickered freshly in her mind, leaving her unsettled.
She... she thought she saw someone at the exhibit hall...
That morning, after getting out of Zhiyé’s car, she'd gone in alone—he’d headed for the office.
She was late, and the scanner at the entrance was already off. The black screen clearly reflected someone’s shadow standing outside.
Those eyes—ancient, clouded. Just one glance sent chills crawling down her spine. She turned, looked again.
There was nothing outside the glass. Cecilia told herself it must have been her imagination.
——
Out in the corridor, Fu Zhiyé was on the phone.
"Right, pull all the security footage from around the exhibit. Anything suspicious near Cecilia, anything odd in the studio or the neighborhood, bring it to me."
Lao San listened closely, replying with a brisk "Understood."
"Anything—no matter how small—I want to know. Immediately."
"Yes, President Foster."
When it came to his wife, Mr. Fu was always meticulous.
Lao San immediately arranged for all the surveillance videos to be sent to the company, organizing a team to watch them in shifts, round the clock.
Though usually easy-going, he worked with remarkable precision—no wonder Fu Zhiyé relied on him so much.
"Where should we start, Third Brother?"
"Check the east gate of the exhibit from about six o’clock last night."
The person she’d seen yesterday evening at the hall had struck him as particularly suspicious.
——
Finishing his call, Fu Zhiyé returned. As soon as he opened the door, he saw her sitting up in bed—shoeless—about to speak, when she suddenly dove into his arms, clinging tightly to his waist.
"Zhiyé..."
Her voice trembled, and Fu Zhiyé's heart ached at the sound. Gently, he lifted her into his arms.
"What’s wrong, baby? I was just outside making a call."
"Zhiyé, I’m scared. I... I saw someone this morning."
A chill seized his chest. Fu Zhiyé carried her to the bed, settling her down before kneeling beside her.
"Who did you see?"
Her deer-like eyes shimmered with fright, the fear clear in their depths as she bit her lip, twisting the hem of her shirt.
"Don’t be afraid, baby. I’m here."
Tears trembled on the brink. Cecilia squeezed her eyes shut, and the tears finally slid down her cheeks.
She shook with fear as she reached for him. Fu Zhiyé gathered her into his arms.
Her tiny voice muffled against his chest.
"I... I think I saw... Zhou... Theodore Zane’s mother."
The moment she spoke that name, her grip tightened around his waist, body racked with shivers.
Fu Zhiyé knew all about this. Theodore Zane’s father had died. As for his mother—they’d investigated; she’d supposedly returned to the countryside.
After everything that happened with Theodore Zane, he’d assigned people to keep tabs on the woman.
But never did he expect... that she’d suddenly show up in the capital.
Now that he knew who it was, things would be easier to handle.
These the Zane family people just wouldn’t stay buried in the past—it was time to send them a clear message.
♡ Happy New Year, darlings! ♡
Wishing you all luck and happiness in 2023.
I’ll be taking a one-day break for the holiday tomorrow~