Su Xiaowan immediately consoled Tangtang again, and the lively Zhuazhou ceremony came to a warm end in such a cozy atmosphere.
At night, Su Xiaowan experienced insomnia once more as she watched the three little ones sleeping soundly. She kissed each gently and then couldn't help but walk to the window, a string around her neck with a bullet hanging from it—the one Han Dongchen had given her, which she had never been without.
She kissed it tenderly, and longing surged up in her like a spring, boiling over. Han Dongchen had been gone for half a year now, and she wondered if everything was alright with him.
As of now, Su Xiaowan had not received any news about Han Dongchen. She had asked around, even inquired with his father, but such confidential matters were not something a family member could be privy to, let alone to know about his safety.