Xiao Mo, perched silently on Wen Ran's shoulder, watched the exchange with wide eyes, her little ears twitching in confusion. She couldn't understand the tension between them, the strange dance of father and son, each word layered with emotions Wen Ran wasn't willing to show. She merely observed, her tiny paws shifting uncomfortably, unsure of what to make of the situation unfolding before her.
Wen Ran grabbed the bucket with a sigh, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should have. The simple act of filling it with water suddenly felt like a test, like a chore forced upon him by someone who had long since been a stranger to tenderness. But despite the weight of the world on his shoulders, he couldn't bring himself to refuse. There was something about this place, about his father, that made him play along, even if it felt like a betrayal to the path he had chosen for himself.
