Não quero explorar o universo, apenas ter saúde e longevidade.

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On the Winter Solstice, as the sun returns, the shadows grow long. Plum blossoms rejoice before willows can bloom. Clouds part, the clear scene is brisk and cold; along a snowy path, the chill fragrance is pressed beneath one’s steps.

That day was the Winter Solstice, at midnight, in the provincial hospital’s obstetrics department.

“Has the baby been born yet?” The grandfather, who had already chosen a name for the child, asked impatiently on the phone.

“She’s been in the delivery room for more than two hours,” Su Ming glanced at the operating room, feeling anxious. “It’s born, it’s born—wait, why is it so small?”

“It’s a boy. Both mother and child are safe.” A nurse, cradling a bundle, said to the waiting Su Ming. There seemed to be a trace of pity and sorrow on her face.

What was going on?

As Su Ming watched the nurse slowly carry the child to the nursery, an ominous feeling crept into his heart.

“It’s a grandson, I heard it! The nurse said it’s a boy, both are safe, wonderful!” The call ended in a burst of joyous exclamation.

An hour later, his wife was wheeled out of the operating room, tears still marking her face.

“Look at you, tears of happiness? Is this what a joyful new mother looks like?” Su Ming joked as he pushed his wife.

“My son, why is his fate so bitter? Wuu…” Wang Fang broke down in sobs.

She was crying for their son, Su Hao.

Su Ming’s heart skipped a beat. He asked urgently, “What’s wrong with our son? Wasn’t he just born? Could it be…”

When the nurse brought