Zhihao found a quiet corner and sat cross-legged with two shy children, showing them how to fold paper cranes. His hands were precise, almost meditative.
"You're good at this," one of the girls whispered.
Zhihao gave a rare, small smile. "I used to fold them when I was sick. It helped me forget for a while."
Across the room, Feihao was dragging Minghao and Qingqing into a chaotic game of pillow tag.
"No mercy!" she declared, lightly whacking Minghao with a cushion.
He shrieked in mock horror and hid behind Qingqing. "Protect me!"
Qingqing hesitated for a moment… then giggled—genuinely—and picked up a pillow to return fire.
"Do you like it here?" Tang Fei asked gently.
Qingqing nodded, her voice a whisper. "It smells like… stories."
Tang Fei blinked, touched. "That's a beautiful way to put it."
She wrapped an arm around the child. Qingqing didn't flinch this time.
