Little Swallow

Yun Qin made five steamed buns. Her husband, Lu Zhi, hadn’t yet returned from the private school, so she quietly ate three, leaving two behind. When Lu Zhi came home, the air was cold, yet his handsome, fair face was damp with sweat, his cheeks faintly flushed from running. A small ache of guilt rose in Yun Qin’s chest. If she had known, she would have eaten only two. She shouldn’t have eaten three. She set the buns on the table. Lu Zhi was hungry as well. He ate one, then split the last bun in half and lifted one piece to her lips. Yun Qin’s face warmed. “I’ve already eaten,” she said softly. “I know,” Lu Zhi replied. She paused. “How do you know?” He fed her the half bun anyway, then gently wiped the corner of her mouth. “When I walked in, your lips were still shiny with oil.” Yun Qin: “……” — Note: The story traces the lives of the main couple from their younger years through middle age and later. Readers who are not fond of long-spanning narratives may wish to take note.