The soft glow of morning light filtered through the large windows, casting golden hues over the spacious bedroom.
Lin Jiaxuan stirred awake, her body still heavy with exhaustion. It took her a moment to remember where she was—back in her past, back in the life she had thrown away.
She turned her head slightly, eyes landing on the empty space beside her.
Huo Shenzhi hadn't slept in their bed.
She had expected that.
But knowing it didn't make it hurt any less.
She pushed the blankets aside and got up.
The house was quiet, except for the faint sounds of movement downstairs. The scent of breakfast lingered in the air—eggs, porridge, and something warm and sweet.
Yichen.
A wave of guilt hit her. Had he woken up alone? Did he cry? Had Shenzhi comforted him, as he always did?
Jiaxuan didn't waste another second. She stepped out of the bedroom and made her way downstairs.
The sight that greeted her made her heart tighten.
At the dining table, Yichen sat in his booster seat, his tiny hands clutching a spoon as he struggled to eat by himself. His soft, chubby cheeks were slightly puffed as he chewed on his food, his little eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
Across from him, Huo Shenzhi sat with a newspaper in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. He was dressed in a crisp black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, his usual polished and composed appearance effortless.
The image was so perfect—father and son, comfortable in their own world.
Jiaxuan felt like an intruder.
She took a shaky breath and stepped forward.
Yichen was the first to notice her. His little head snapped up, and his round, dark eyes locked onto her.
Jiaxuan felt her chest tighten.
Would he reject her? Would he look at her the way he used to—with fear, with hesitation?
But to her surprise, Yichen blinked at her. His grip on the spoon tightened. His tiny mouth opened slightly as if he wanted to say something.
Then, in a soft, unsure voice, he whispered, "Mama…?"
Jiaxuan's breath caught.
Shenzhi looked up at that exact moment, his sharp gaze pinning her in place.
For a second, no one moved.
Jiaxuan forced a smile and walked closer. "Good morning, Yichen."
The little boy hesitated. His small hands fidgeted with his spoon, eyes flickering toward his father as if seeking reassurance.
Shenzhi didn't say a word.
Jiaxuan slowly lowered herself onto the chair beside Yichen. "Are you eating well?" she asked gently.
Yichen pursed his lips, then gave a small nod. "Baba… make porridge…"
Her heart clenched.
Of course. Shenzhi had always made sure Yichen ate well. In her past life, she had never been there to feed him, to cook for him, to care for him.
She forced herself to smile. "Is it good?"
Yichen nodded again, but his small fingers gripped the edge of his bowl tightly.
Jiaxuan saw it—the slight tension in his little shoulders, the careful way he spoke to her.
He wanted to trust her.
But he was scared.
She reached out, slowly, cautiously, and tucked a stray strand of his hair behind his ear. "Mama can feed you," she offered.
Yichen hesitated. His small lips pressed together as he looked at her hand.
Then, carefully, he lifted his spoon and placed it in her palm.
Jiaxuan felt tears sting her eyes.
It was small—such a small gesture.
But it was everything.
She scooped up a spoonful of porridge and brought it to his lips. "Say ah~"
Yichen hesitated, then shyly opened his mouth.
The warmth in her chest grew.
But just as she was about to give him another bite, Shenzhi's voice cut through the moment.
"You're up early," he said coolly.
Jiaxuan turned toward him. His expression was unreadable, his dark eyes calm but distant.
She nodded. "I wanted to see Yichen."
Shenzhi set his coffee cup down with a soft clink. "That's new."
Her fingers tightened around the spoon. "I… I know I haven't been there for him before. But I want to change that."
Shenzhi leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving hers. "Change?" His lips curved slightly, but there was no warmth in it. "Lin Jiaxuan, do you really think things are that simple?"
The weight of his words pressed against her.
She knew it wouldn't be easy.
She knew Shenzhi wouldn't believe her so quickly.
But she had already lost them once.
She wasn't going to lose them again.
Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze head-on. "No. It's not simple. But I'm still going to try."
A flicker of something crossed his eyes—doubt? Anger? Pain?
Then, just as quickly, it disappeared.
Shenzhi stood up, adjusting his sleeves. "I'll be late tonight," he said, looking at Yichen. "Be good, okay?"
Yichen nodded obediently. "Baba…"
Shenzhi bent down, pressing a light kiss to his son's forehead. "Eat well."
Jiaxuan watched the scene silently, her heart aching.
Then, as Shenzhi turned to leave, he paused beside her chair.
His voice was quiet when he spoke.
"If this is another game to you, Lin Jiaxuan…"
His eyes darkened.
"Don't involve Yichen."
Then, without another word, he walked away.
Jiaxuan clenched the spoon in her hands, her heart pounding.
She had a long way to go.
But no matter what—
She wouldn't give up.
After breakfast, Huo Shenzhi left for work, his departure as cold and distant as ever.
Yichen sat on the living room floor, playing with his building blocks. His small hands carefully stacked one block on top of another, his lips slightly pursed in concentration.
Jiaxuan sat nearby, watching him.
It had been a long time since she truly looked at her son. In her past life, she had ignored him, pushed him away, and refused to acknowledge the bond they could have had.
She regretted it.
Now, she wanted to change.
But she didn't know how to start.
Would he accept her? Would he let her in?
She took a deep breath and scooted closer.
"Yichen," she said gently.
The little boy flinched slightly but didn't look up.
Jiaxuan bit her lip. She needed to be patient.
"Can Mama play too?" she asked, her voice soft.
Yichen's small fingers tightened around a block. He hesitated, then slowly glanced up at her.
His big round eyes were uncertain, filled with the same hesitation from that morning.
Jiaxuan held her breath, waiting.
Finally, Yichen reached into the pile of blocks and picked up a red one. He held it out to her with his tiny hand.
Jiaxuan's heart swelled.
She took the block carefully, smiling. "Thank you, Yichen."
The little boy didn't respond, but he watched her as she placed the block next to his.
Together, they built a small tower.
It wasn't perfect—Yichen still hesitated whenever their hands brushed, and he wasn't as talkative as he should be.
But it was a start.
After a while, Yichen tugged at her sleeve.
Jiaxuan looked down. "Hmm?"
The little boy hesitated, then mumbled, "Mama… make big one?"
Jiaxuan blinked, then smiled. "You want to build a bigger tower?"
Yichen gave a small nod.
Jiaxuan felt warmth spread through her chest.
"Okay," she said. "Let's make the biggest one."
For the first time in both her lives, she sat with her son and built something together.
And for the first time, Yichen laughed.
A small, soft giggle that made her eyes sting with tears.
She had missed this.
She had missed so much.
But she was here now.
And she wasn't going anywhere.
The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the spacious living room as Lin Jiaxuan sat on the floor beside her son. Their tower of colorful blocks had already fallen twice, but Yichen was determined to make it taller.
Jiaxuan watched him, a soft smile playing on her lips. His chubby fingers carefully placed a blue block on top of the structure, his small brows furrowing in concentration.
He's so smart, she thought, guilt pressing against her chest.
She had never noticed before.
She had never wanted to notice.
"Yichen," she said gently. "Can you tell Mama the colors?"
The little boy hesitated, looking up at her with his big, round eyes. His gaze flickered with uncertainty, as if waiting for her to change her mind and push him away like before.
Jiaxuan's heart ached.
She reached out, slowly and carefully, and pointed to the block in his hand. "What color is this?"
Yichen shifted slightly, his tiny fingers gripping the block tighter. Then, in a quiet, hesitant voice, he whispered, "B-boo."
Jiaxuan's eyes softened. "Blue," she corrected gently.
"…B-boo," he repeated, blinking up at her.
A chuckle escaped her lips. "That's right. Blue."
The little boy's lips twitched slightly, almost as if he wanted to smile but wasn't sure if he was allowed to.
Jiaxuan fought the urge to scoop him up in her arms. She didn't want to scare him. Not when he was finally responding to her.
She picked up another block. "What about this one?"
Yichen tilted his head, his small lips pressing together. Then, slowly, he mumbled, "Reh."
"Red," she said, nodding. "Very good, Yichen."
A tiny giggle escaped him, and Jiaxuan froze.
He laughed.
It was small, barely a sound, but it was there.
Yichen immediately clamped his lips shut, his tiny hands gripping the blocks like he was afraid he had done something wrong.
Jiaxuan swallowed back the lump in her throat. How could she have ever left him? How could she have ever hurt him?
"Yichen," she whispered.
The little boy hesitated.
Then, slowly, carefully, Jiaxuan reached out and placed her palm on top of his small head, gently stroking his soft, dark hair.
"You're very smart," she told him, her voice soft but firm. "Mama is proud of you."
Yichen's fingers twitched, his tiny shoulders tensing under her touch.
For a second, she thought he would pull away.
But then....
The little boy leaned forward.
Just the slightest bit.
Just enough for her hand to remain in place.
Jiaxuan bit her lip to stop the tears from falling.
It wasn't much.
But to her, it meant everything.
She would keep trying.
She wouldn't stop.
And one day...
He would no longer be afraid.
Huo Yichen.
Her son.
He looked just like his father. Sharp eyes, stubborn little frown, and that small tilt of his head when he focused. Jiaxuan's heart ached with a weight she could never put into words. She remembered the way he cried in her arms in those last moments before death not in this life, but the one before. That memory haunted her now.
"Yichen," she called softly.
He turned, clutching a blue block to his chest.
His big, dark eyes blinked at her.
But he didn't run away either.
That was enough.
When she gently touched his cheek, he flinched but didn't pull away.
"Do you like stories?" she asked as he leaned against her side, sleepy from play.
"'Tory," he mumbled, thumb in his mouth.
"Okay," she whispered. "Mama will read you one."
She picked a picture book and began to read in a soft, loving voice she wished she had used from the start. His small fingers tugged at her shirt as his eyelids drooped. He was still cautious. Still watching.
But when his head fell onto her lap, Jiaxuan bit her lip and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
One small victory.
One gentle step closer.
She stroked his hair and whispered to the sleeping boy, "I know you're scared of me, Yichen. But I will wait. As long as it takes, Mama will wait." Lin Jiaxuan looked down at the tiny figure resting so trustingly against her. His soft breaths brushed against her arm, and for the first time since returning, she felt a warmth spread through the cracks of her guilt.
Gently, she shifted her arms under him. "Mama will carry you, okay?" she whispered, even though he couldn't hear.
He stirred slightly but didn't wake.
Carefully, she stood, cradling her son close to her chest. His small hand curled into the fabric of her blouse, as though part of him didn't want to let go. She held him tighter.
She walked quietly through the hallway, her steps slow, deliberate. The house was quiet too quiet. Every corner whispered memories she didn't deserve to have. But this moment, this boy he was her new beginning.
She pushed open the door to his room and laid him down on the soft, blue blanket decorated with stars. His lashes fluttered as he turned to his side, clutching the edge of his pillow.
Jiaxuan knelt by the bed and gently pulled the blanket over him.
"I wasn't there when you first said your first word. I wasn't there when you took your first step," she murmured, her voice trembling. "But I'm here now, baby. I won't leave again."
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, the smallest smile forming on her lips as he sighed in his sleep.
Outside, the wind carried the scent of morning rain.
Inside, a mother's heart began to heal quietly, slowly, and with hope.