The light outside filtered softly through the kitchen window, painting the room with the warm hues of early morning. Zhao Yun sat at the table, staring at his half-empty cup of tea, feeling the weight of the quiet in the room. Everything about this place felt so familiar, yet so new. His fingers tightened around the cup, the heat from it doing little to ease the swirling thoughts in his mind. He wasn't used to this—this family, this warmth.
He had always been alone in his past life, and while he was still adjusting to the idea of family, there was something inside him that ached for connection. It was a feeling he hadn't known before, but now that it was here, it felt… right.
The sound of light footsteps broke the silence, and Zhao Yun looked up to see Zhao Xiaolin preparing to leave for the day. She adjusted her coat, motioning for Zhao Lin to grab her school bag.
"Ready?" Zhao Xiaolin asked, her voice as calm as ever, though with the gentle authority that made her a reliable presence.
Zhao Lin—his niece—stood still, glancing at Zhao Yun with a quiet uncertainty in her golden eyes. The little girl had always been full of energy, her usual confidence now tempered by Zhao Yun's unexpected warmth. The distance he had maintained for so long was slowly dissolving, and it left her unsure of how to approach him now.
"Brother Zhao," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper, a hint of hesitation in the way she spoke. She had loved him, had always tried to connect with him, but the change was unsettling to her.
Zhao Yun blinked at the title. It wasn't the same as it had been in his past life, where it felt like an obligation to respond. Now, it felt natural. For the first time, he didn't want to pull away from her.
"See you later, Lin," he said, smiling faintly. There was a warmth behind the words, an unspoken promise.
As Zhao Xiaolin and Zhao Lin left, Zhao Yun's gaze followed them, lingering on the two figures that made up this new family he was starting to embrace. There was a quiet ache in his chest. He wanted to be close to them, but there was still so much inside him that was afraid to let them in completely.
The door clicked shut, and the apartment settled back into its soft quiet. Zhao Yun exhaled slowly, the silence pressing in on him. His thoughts churned as he remained seated at the kitchen table, fingers still resting lightly on his cup.
After a moment, Zhao Meilin entered the kitchen. Her presence was always so steady, so composed, but today there was something different. Zhao Yun could sense it—the quiet hope that she carried with her, the subtle way she was waiting for him to let her in.
She hesitated at the doorway, watching him with a mix of caution and anticipation. She had spent so many years hoping for this moment, never knowing if he would ever truly look at her, never knowing if he would ever let her be more than just a distant figure in his life.
"Morning," Zhao Yun said, his voice low but clear, though there was a softness to it that wasn't there before.
Zhao Meilin smiled at him, but it was a smile filled with something more than just warmth. It was a smile tinged with years of longing, of waiting for the son she had never truly reached. "Morning, Zhao Yun."
She moved toward the counter, her hands lightly resting on it as she prepared breakfast. But this time, Zhao Yun didn't just sit idly by. He stood up, a sudden impulse pushing him to do something he hadn't done before—something that felt both strange and right at the same time.
He walked over to her, standing behind her for a moment. She looked up at him, surprised, and before she could say anything, Zhao Yun gently pulled her into a hug.
It was brief, but it spoke volumes. The warmth of her embrace, the way her body stiffened before slowly relaxing, all told him everything he needed to know. She had longed for this, but even more so, she had longed for the chance to hold him, to show him that he wasn't alone.
"I…" Zhao Yun's voice cracked slightly as he spoke, his words faltering. But he pushed through the hesitation, his arms tightening just a little around her. "I love you, Mom."
There was a pause before Zhao Meilin's body trembled slightly, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She had never expected this—never imagined that her son would say those words. She had been patient for years, waiting for him to come to her, to trust her, but hearing those words now felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she whispered softly, "I love you too, Zhao Yun… more than you'll ever know."
Zhao Yun could feel the heat of her tears against his chest. He didn't pull away; instead, he held her even tighter, silently letting her cry. He knew she had carried so much on her own for so long. She had tried to fill the empty spaces in her heart, tried to make him feel like he was her son, but it had never been enough. But now… now they were both starting to heal, little by little.