“Mom, let me carry that for you.”

With those words, he reached out to take Si Nian’s bag.

Si Nian chuckled and handed it over.

Zhou Yuehan cradled the delicate bag in his arms, inhaling the faint scent of his mother lingering on it—a fragrance he found utterly delightful.

He held it like a treasure, then blinked up at Si Nian with bright eyes. “Mom.”

Thinking he needed something, Si Nian responded, “What is it?”

Zhou Yuehan shook his head, only to call out again moments later, “Mom.”

Seeing her patience unwavering, he squinted happily, a wide grin spreading across his face. He really had a mother now.

And she was even going to attend his parent-teacher meeting.

He must be the luckiest kid in the world.

Si Nian watched as he called her name without saying anything else, his expression brimming with quiet joy. After a pause, she realized he simply wanted to say it—just because he could.

Of course, in the novel, the younger Zhou brother had lost his parents when he was still very young.

He had never known much maternal love.

In that regard, he wasn’t so different from Yaoyao.

It was only natural for him to cling to her now.

She glanced down at the little boy, his large, beautiful eyes filled with pure adoration and happiness. The sight softened her heart in ways she couldn’t quite describe.

“Mom, I want to sit in the back with you.”

“Sure,” Si Nian said, reaching for his hand. Winning over the children had turned out to be unexpectedly rewarding.

Who would’ve thought that not long ago, these two had treated her like a thief, wary of her every move?

Back then, she hadn’t set out to win them over—only to ease the tension, ensuring that if they ever strayed down the wrong path in the future, she wouldn’t be the target of their resentment.

Yet somehow, things had turned out this way.

And it was good. Peaceful coexistence was far better than constant wariness.

Seeing the children grow brighter and happier by the day filled her with quiet satisfaction.

Zhou Yuedong stood motionless by the motorcycle, staring at his younger brother for a long moment.

Zhou Yueshen pulled on his gloves and glanced at Si Nian and his son, their faces alight with gentle smiles. Then his gaze shifted to his reserved eldest son. After a pause, he spoke in his deep voice, “Xiao Dong, get on.”

Zhou Yuedong stole another glance at Si Nian, but she was still talking to his brother. His shoulders slumped slightly before he nodded and climbed onto the bike.

Carrying three people wasn’t impossible—the two children didn’t take up much space. One could sit in front, the other two in the back.

Si Nian lifted Zhou Yuehan onto the rear seat. The little boy had put on some weight—no longer the scrawny chick he’d once been, barely weighing a thing.

Now, he felt solid in her arms.

Children grew fast, and with hearty meals served daily, his weight had shot up in no time.

Si Nian settled behind him, wrapping her arms around his small frame.

Zhou Yuehan, cheeks flushed with excitement, clung to his father in front.

Dad in front, Mom behind.

Dad was so warm, Mom smelled so nice—he loved this so much!

If only every day could be like this.

Zhou Yueshen first stopped by Aunt Zhang’s house, handing her the keys and asking her to keep an eye on Yaoyao, who was still asleep.

Aunt Zhang agreed with a smile.

As she watched the family ride off into the distance, a look of quiet contentment settled in her eyes.

She had never seen the two boys so affectionate before.

Si Nian was doing an amazing job.

The previous woman had spent a year with them and still hadn’t managed to open their hearts.

Yet in such a short time, Si Nian had brought about such a remarkable change in them.

Nearby, Shitou stared enviously at the retreating figures of Zhou Yuedong and Zhou Yuehan, his grubby face full of longing. “Grandma, I wanna ride a motorcycle too.”

Aunt Zhang’s smile vanished. “You look more like a motorcycle than a boy.”

Shitou: “…”

The school was far—about twenty minutes away, all along winding mountain roads.

Si Nian’s own childhood had been humble, but her school had never been this remote. At most, it had been a forty-five-minute walk.

Nothing like this.

Only now did she truly grasp what the rural 1980s were like in these remote mountains.

A single school served the entire region.

To get an education, children had to cross hills and valleys.

No wonder it was so rare for anyone from these parts to make it to university.

Many students struggled to finish elementary school, let alone high school.

With late starts and poor resources, academic success was even harder to come by.

Soon, she caught sight of the village’s hope—a small, run-down school nestled in the mountains.

No sprawling playground, no bright classrooms.

Just a modest, earth-walled building with no windows to speak of.

A handful of students ambled toward it, their red scarves—once vibrant—now frayed and faded.

Tiny noses ran with snot, sniffled up intermittently.

Some clutched boiled potatoes in their hands, dipping them into chili powder as they walked and ate.

Si Nian’s own childhood school had been a three-story concrete building.

Witnessing this stark contrast between eras left her both awed and deeply moved.

Despite the poor conditions, the school covered all six grades.

Each class had only one teacher, responsible for both Chinese and math—the only subjects offered.

Most teachers had barely finished high school themselves, lacking formal credentials. They were the true “barefoot teachers” of their time, many of them older, remnants of an earlier generation of intellectuals.

Under the curious gazes of the village children, Si Nian dismounted the motorcycle.

Zhou Yueshen still had deliveries to make, so he could only drop them off.

Seemingly worried she might feel out of place, he scanned their surroundings before speaking in his low voice, “I’ll have Yu Dong pick you up later. I’ve got a shipment to handle.”

Si Nian almost refused, but since she didn’t know the way back, she nodded. “Alright. Be careful on the road.”

Zhou Yueshen held her gaze for a long moment before shifting his attention to the boys. Then, with a turn of the handlebars, he rode off.

Truth be told, attending her first parent-teacher meeting had Si Nian nervous.

Zhou Yuedong and Zhou Yuehan were in different classes, so the older boy left first.

Si Nian held Zhou Yuehan’s hand as he strutted proudly, basking in the attention of the other children.

His face might as well have been shouting, “Look at this! This is my mom!”

When class began, parents filed in—mostly aunties, grandmothers, and a few elderly men.

Si Nian stood out as the youngest.

In these parts, the young and able-bodied were out in the fields. Only those with little else to do could spare the time to come.

Many didn’t bother at all.

Out of thirty students, barely half had a parent present.

Si Nian had tried to dress modestly.

Yet as eyes darted toward her from all directions, she couldn’t help but feel she’d still overdressed…

Zhou Yuehan tugged her into the classroom just as a middle-aged man in a faded gray suit and glasses approached, clutching a few worn textbooks.

Spotting the boy at the door, he blinked in surprise. “Xiao Han, why are you standing here?”

“Good morning, Teacher Wang! This is my mom,” Zhou Yuehan announced proudly.

Teacher Wang: “?”

Better not write anything too risqué—getting taken down would be a disaster.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep