Ying Rui stayed home for the next few days.
The first morning, Mao Mao came downstairs holding Jua's hand and stopped when he saw his father sitting at the dining table. There was no coat draped over his arm, no suitcase beside the door. His laptop was closed, pushed aside to make room for four plates.
Mao Mao looked toward the entrance before looking back at him.
"Aren't you going to work?"
"I've moved a few things around. I'll be home for a while."
The boy didn't answer immediately. He climbed onto the chair beside Jua and watched his father pour him a glass of milk, following the movement with a quiet attention that made Ying Rui painfully conscious of how unusual it was.
Ying Di joined them a few minutes later. He paused beside his usual chair, glanced at the others, and sat down.
With the servants gone, the house felt much bigger.
