CHAPTER 5

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Song Qiaoxi was awakened by booing. Before going to bed, her mother filled her and Chu Jin with two glasses of high Lego milk, and she woke up shortly after she slept.

When I first woke up, I was a little confused and stared, and suddenly I heard someone sobbing softly.

She sat up from the bed, leaned forward and looked to the right. Chu Jin lay flat on the small bed, with her slender fingers stacked on her chest, her eyes closed and her brows twisted, and there were faint tears at the end of her eyes.

He cried, did he miss his mother, or had a nightmare?

After thinking about it, Song Qiaoxi turned awkwardly on the side of the big bed.

Stretched out his soft little fleshy hand, and patted his bare forearm with his lightest strength.

"I'm not afraid or not," her Tongyin grandma said softly, "I'm not afraid..."

It wasn't until Chu Jin's frowning brows slowly stretched out and her breathing gradually stabilized that she withdrew her little hand.

Hmm, my belly is swollen, I feel so suffocated...

Song Qiaoxi turned her head and looked at the corner of the room hesitantly. There was an enamel spittoon painted with a red mandarin duck, which was specially used for her to wake up at night.

However, there is a little brother in the room.

His cheeks burned all at once.

Feeling groping, he got down from the other side of the big bed, walked to the door of the bedroom with bare feet, and opened the door.

The light in the living room was so bright that it stabbed her to cover her eyes with one hand and gently close the door with one hand.

Dimly seeing my father at the desk at the dining table rushing to draft papers, and my mother sitting on the sofa playing sweaters, the two of them whispered something.

Mother threw down the sweater stitches, took two quick steps and picked her up: "I don't wear slippers, it's so cold on the ground."

There was no reproach in the words spoken, only the intimacy of the lost baby.

"Want to hush?" Song Qiaoxi buried her head on her mother's shoulder and nodded shyly after hearing her mother asked softly.

After that, she never went to the ground again. Mother took care of her as a baby. After coming out of the bathroom, the ceiling light in the living room was turned off by her father. Only a small table lamp was left, and the light was dim and not dazzling.

Being held in her arms by her mother, a pair of gentle hands patted her back rhythmically, just like a baby in the swaddling, sleepiness swept over her immediately.

In my ear, my mother's soft voice hummed: "Yue'er is bright and the wind is quiet, leaves are covering the window lattices, and the crickets are called crickets, like the sound of strings..."

So comfortable that she was about to fall asleep, Song Qiaoxi remembered this lullaby and her mother often hummed it.

Mother sang really well, and she fell into a deep sleep with the familiar singing.

-

The next day is Tuesday.

Early in the morning, Song Qiaoxi was sitting in front of the mirror with her short legs dangling, and her mother held a wooden comb to tie her hair.

Mother is a coincidence, a long curly hair that is not very honest in her hand, and quickly turned into two lovable buds, don't put on the butterfly hairpin.

Transmigrated in the 90's as a Little Dumpling (MTL) ✓ Where stories live. Discover now