Murphy had already returned to the passenger seat. Seeing Yang Yi come back, she couldn’t wait to ask as he got in, “How was it? Did Xixi cry? How’s her mood? Did she throw a tantrum?”
Yang Yi had already pulled himself together—after all, men tend to be more thick-skinned. He smiled and said, “If you hadn’t asked, I was going to tell you. This daughter of ours—she’s so easy to raise! From the very start, she was all smiles. Other kids were crying, but she didn’t.”
“She didn’t cry?” Murphy’s expression turned a bit disappointed.
“She did cry. Later, when she realized I wasn’t staying with her at kindergarten, she still shed some tears. But she was very well-behaved, holding back the tears the whole time, only letting them fall when I left.” Thinking of his daughter’s strong little face, Yang Yi felt a sense of relief.
Yet Murphy’s nose tingled with emotion. She pouted, reached out, and hit Yang Yi, saying indignantly, “And you’re still laughing! Our daughter cried, and you’re laughing! How can you laugh?”
Yang Yi grabbed her hand and protested, “I wasn’t laughing either. I just think Xixi is much better than the other kids...”
“You didn’t see it. The other kids were crying so miserably, wailing loudly enough to lift the roof. And their mothers, too—they must have felt awful hearing the cries, tears streaming down their faces.” Yang Yi recounted this as casual chatter, like something to talk about over a meal, but he didn’t notice Murphy’s expression shifting from cloudy to a storm.
“Wah, I’m a mom too, and I feel terrible inside.” Murphy had been holding it in for a long time, ever since Xixi got out of the car, suppressing that worry and reluctance deep in her heart. Now, stirred up by Yang Yi’s words, it all came flooding out.
First, tears uncontrollably streamed down Murphy’s face, then came choked sobs of complaint, until she was crying so hard she couldn’t speak.
“What’s wrong?” Yang Yi was about to start the car but now forgot to even put the key in. He turned around, trying to comfort Murphy.
But Murphy was crying harder than when Yang Yi had upset her before. Yang Yi felt at a loss—he’d done plenty of homework before, but none of it covered comforting an adult!
“It’s all your fault, saying all that, making me cry!” Murphy’s face was streaked with tears. She pouted, turned, and pounded her little fists against Yang Yi’s chest in complaint.
Yang Yi didn’t quite know what was happening, but instinctively pulled her into his arms.
“Mm...” Murphy’s crying paused abruptly. Clearly, she hadn’t expected Yang Yi to be so bold. Her little fists pressed against his firm chest, forgetting to strike.
“Alright, go ahead and cry. Cry it out, and you’ll feel better.” Yang Yi’s gentle voice sounded by her ear.
Admittedly, Murphy’s worry for Xixi still dominated. In Yang Yi’s arms, she sobbed again, choking out, “Yang Yi, I’m worried about Xixi.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Yang Yi patted Murphy’s slender back, soothing her softly. “It’s always a process. Once she gets used to it, she won’t cry anymore.”
“But I can’t bear to have her leave home.” Murphy sniffled in his arms. “Just thinking about it hurts. Wuwu.”
Yang Yi asked, puzzled, “Kids grow up and have to leave their parents’ wings. And wasn’t it your idea to send Xixi to kindergarten in the first place?”
“Ouch!” Yang Yi felt a pinch on the soft flesh of his waist. This time, Murphy avoided the muscular spots and found a less firm area to twist.
His muscles tensed instinctively under the attack, pushing Murphy’s hand away. Still, he knew he’d said the wrong thing, bringing up a sore point. He quickly changed his tune, “Don’t worry, I’m here. If you’re really concerned, I won’t go anywhere today. I’ll climb up to the rooftop and secretly keep watch. I won’t let anyone touch a single hair on Xixi’s head!”
Murphy shook her head, her slightly curled hair brushing under Yang Yi’s nose, carrying a faint, lily-like fragrance.
“Tonight, I’ll pick Xixi up, ask how she’s doing, and call to tell you. Or let Xixi call you herself. Don’t worry about anything—just know that I’ve got it all covered!” Yang Yi said.
Under Yang Yi’s comfort, Murphy gradually stopped crying. She just sniffled softly in his arms, then said after a moment, “I’m not going back today. I told Xiaojuan I’d wait for Xixi.”
Yang Yi paused, then said with some delight, “That’s great! We’ll go back, and I’ll make you a special lunch. Then this afternoon, we’ll come pick up Xixi together. She’ll be so happy to see you!”
“Mm...” Murphy was held in Yang Yi’s arms, the storage box between them making the position a bit awkward, but feeling weak from crying, she found this embrace warm and comforting.
After pulling Murphy into his arms, Yang Yi’s heart pounded fiercely! It wasn’t just the softness of her body stirring him—though a long-dormant flame could easily ignite with the smallest spark—that wasn’t what he was thinking about now. That heartbeat felt like two magnets of opposite poles meeting, a destined attraction at play!
If he could, Yang Yi wished he could hold her until the end of the world.
Though it didn’t quite fit the moment, Yang Yi felt his thoughts echoed the lyrics of that epic anime song: “Until the end of the world, I won’t part from you!”
But clearly, they didn’t need to wait that long. Murphy wasn’t the clingy type. Once she regained her composure, she sensed the quiet atmosphere in the car, tinted a wine-red with intoxicating ambiguity.
Murphy looked up, gently biting her rosy lower lip, meeting Yang Yi’s burning gaze, and said with a hint of reproach, “How long are you going to hold me?”
Yang Yi couldn’t quite read Murphy’s mood, but he didn’t want to rush things. He smiled and let go, though a bit reluctantly.
They both returned to a normal posture. Murphy reached up to brush back her tear-dampened hair, casually tucking it behind her ear.
“Here, wipe it off.” Yang Yi thoughtfully handed her the tissue box from the car.
“Mm,” Murphy said softly, feeling a bit flustered by her earlier display.
But it was only natural—what mother sends her child off to school, whether it’s a nearby kindergarten or a far-off university, without feeling a pang of heartache or shedding tears? If they don’t, they’re probably hiding those tears deep inside.
“Let’s head back!” Yang Yi started the car, released the clutch, and pressed the gas, roaring off.
Men aren’t as sensitive as women. Yang Yi was almost eager to take Murphy home, barely thinking about his daughter. Or maybe he did—after all, they’d pick her up in the evening. That was probably his mindset.
Only Murphy still gazed worriedly out the window, thinking, “I wonder how Xixi is doing now. Is she scared? Is she still crying?”
What was Xixi doing at that moment?