That year was the most terrifying year in Ji Nianwen's memory.
He saw his father, always the family's protector, also showing a bewildered expression, even trembling while holding his mother's hand.
"Don't be afraid, it's just a slight fever, it might not be contagious." Ye Li poked Ji Yanchen's hand and pushed him away, "Stay a bit away from me."
If it really were contagious, Ye Li wouldn't want Ji Yanchen to be infected either.
Ji Nianwen, wearing a mask, was left at home. Despite his young age, he understood what life and death were.
"Mom." Ji Nianwen stood in the living room, watching his mother held in his father's arms, "I want to eat the pumpkin porridge you make."
Ye Li, pushing Ji Yanchen, smiled, "Alright, I'll make it for you when I come back."
Ji Nianwen nodded firmly.
He would wait, so Mom had to come back.
The car drove slowly outside, the roads were unprecedentedly empty. Passersby rushed by, all wearing masks.
