An hour later, the sky hung low, painted in warm golden light stretching across the horizon.
Wang Ziqing stirred.
Her eyelids fluttered open, the first thing she felt was warmth on her palm. Something small, soft, and moving.
A faint, fragile cry brushed her ears.
Her eyes snapped open.
Beside her, wrapped in clean cloth, lay a tiny baby. His face was red, wrinkled, and scrunched in sleep.
For a moment, Wang Ziqing could not react.
"Daughter-in-law, thank goodness, you're finally awake," Uncle Wang said, his voice trembling with relief. "This is your child. When I held him, he wouldn't stop crying. But he's smart. He recognized his mother. He stopped crying once I placed him beside you."
The realization hit Wang Ziqing all at once.
"My child…" she whispered, her voice trembling, barely louder than a breath.
Her hands shook as they reached out. When her fingers brushed the baby's cheek, the warmth was undeniable.
Tears welled instantly.
