CHAPTER 120 — A New Sunrise for Their Family
The morning sun filtered gently through the Mu estate's tall windows, warm and golden, painting the living room in soft light. Everything felt calm — unbelievably calm — for the first time in years. No reporters outside. No threats looming in the shadows. No trembling silence hanging in Yunxi's chest like a warning.
Just peace.
Just family.
Yunxi stood at the balcony railing overlooking the garden, dressed in a soft cream sweater, her hair loosely tied. The breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass, and in the distance, she could hear childish laughter spilling through the yard.
A sound she once thought she would never hear safely again.
"Mommy! Mommy look!"
Shi Yichen's voice rang out, bright as a bell.
He zoomed across the garden on a tiny scooter, legs kicking, balance surprisingly good for a three-year-old. His twin sister, Shi Qing'er, ran behind him with determined steps, chasing him with a butterfly net twice her size.
"No fair! Yichen, you wait for me!" she shouted, breathless and dramatic.
And just a few feet away, Mu Rui squatted with a serious expression, poking at a ladybug on a leaf as though he were a scientist conducting deep research.
These three — these little souls — had survived storms that even adults would crumble under. They had seen chaos, felt fear, and clung to each other through every trembling night.
But now…
They were laughing.
They were healing.
They were home.
Yunxi's eyes warmed at the sight. A knot inside her chest loosened — a knot that had lived there since the moment she realized she was pregnant three years ago, alone and terrified in a cold hospital hallway.
A large, warm hand slid around her waist.
Mu Lingchen.
He pulled her gently against his chest from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"You're awake earlier than usual," he murmured, voice low and still a little sleepy.
Yunxi leaned into him. "They were too noisy to sleep through."
Lingchen laughed. "That's your daughter. She has lungs."
"And your son," Yunxi added. "Look at Rui. I've never seen a three-year-old study a bug like he's planning world domination."
Lingchen smiled, eyes soft as he watched the boy crouching in the grass.
"He gets that focus from you."
Yunxi rolled her eyes. "It's not a compliment."
"It is to me."
His arms tightened around her waist.
Silence fell between them — soft, warm, comfortable. Lingchen rested his cheek against her temple, breathing her in as if reminding himself she was here, alive, safe.
And Yunxi placed her hands over his, holding them as if anchoring him back to her.
She didn't realize when tears began to gather.
Not sad tears.
Relief.
Real relief.
Lingchen noticed instantly. "Yunxi?"
She didn't look up. Instead, she whispered, "They're happy."
Lingchen's chest ached. "Of course they are."
"But I didn't think…" Her voice shook. "I didn't think I'd ever get to see them like this. Carefree. Laughing. Not looking over their shoulders. Not crying in their sleep."
Now Lingchen turned her fully around, holding her face tenderly between his hands.
"Listen to me," he said softly. "You gave them that happiness. You protected them. You fought for them. You saved them."
She shook her head. "You saved them too."
"Me?" His smile was small and warm. "I only did what a father should do."
Yunxi froze.
That word…
Father.
Lingchen saw the shift in her expression and brushed his thumb across her cheek.
"Yunxi," he said quietly, "I know I missed their first years. I know I didn't get to hold them when they were newborns or watch their first steps. But if you'll let me… if they'll let me… I'll spend the rest of my life making up for every moment."
Her throat tightened.
"I want to be their father," he whispered. "In every sense. Not because I share blood with Rui. But because all three of them are my children."
Yunxi's lips trembled.
Before she could answer, a loud shriek echoed from the garden.
"Daddy!" Qing'er barreled toward them, tiny legs pumping at full speed. "Yichen left me behind! Punish him!"
Yichen ran after her. "I didn't leave her! She's slow! Tell Mommy I didn't!"
Lingchen snorted. "Why are you both shouting?"
"Because!" Qing'er pouted. "He—he—he insulted my legs!"
"I didn't!" Yichen gasped. "I said they were tiny! Tiny legs! She's the one who got angry!"
"That's still insulting!" Qing'er stomped.
Lingchen crouched down, wiping her nose with a gentle swipe of his thumb. "Your legs are perfect. Both of you are perfect."
Yichen puffed his cheeks smugly. "See? Daddy said I'm perfect too."
Qing'er looked offended. "Not the point!"
Mu Rui arrived last, still holding the ladybug leaf like a treasure.
He placed it carefully into Yunxi's hand.
"For you, Mommy," he said quietly.
She lifted him instantly, hugging him close. "Thank you, baby."
Rui leaned into her neck. "Don't cry anymore, Mommy. Rui is here."
Yunxi swallowed hard, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
"I'm not crying, sweetheart. Mommy is just… happy."
Lingchen straightened, sliding a hand into her free one.
The triplets noticed instantly.
They all grabbed at her sweater.
"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!"
"Carry me too!"
"No! She's carrying Rui, so carry me!"
"Daddy carry me!"
"No, Daddy carry ME!"
Yunxi burst into laughter — real, bright, unrestrained laughter — the kind she hadn't released in years.
Lingchen lifted Qing'er onto his shoulders.
Yunxi balanced Rui on her hip and stretched her free arm to pull Yichen close.
And just like that, they stood in a messy, chaotic cluster of limbs, giggles, warm cheeks, and sunshine.
A family.
Their family.
Mu Lingchen leaned down, forehead touching Yunxi's.
"Let's build a future like this," he murmured. "A peaceful one. A safe one. A happy one."
Yunxi smiled back at him — radiant, soft, and certain for the first time.
"We already are."
The triplets cheered loudly, though none of them understood the meaning — only that their Mommy and Daddy were smiling.
Lingchen kissed Yunxi softly.
She kissed him back without hesitation.
The sun rose higher, wrapping the five of them in light.
A new beginning.
A healed family.
A future full of laughter, not fear.