Yang Ping rarely showed a gentle smile: "For the next two weeks, I don’t want to see any of you at the institute unless there’s a real life-threatening ergency. That’s an order."
With the order given, the atmosphere instantly relaxed and beca lively. People started to whisper about where they wanted to go and what they planned to do. Tang Shun thought about finally being able to accompany Li Yingtong to the prenatal yoga class she’s been talking about for a long ti; Song Zimo planned to take Tang Fei and their families to a nearby resort for a few leisurely days; Zhang Lin clamored to go hiking in the mountains and totally disconnect from the internet; several young researchers excitedly discussed organizing a trip to the seaside.
"Professor, what about you?" asked Chu Xiaoxiao.
Yang Ping smiled: "? I also have my tasks, to accompany Xiao Su and my son. The little guy is one year old now, and I’ve spent too little ti with him."
Indeed, Yang Ping’s own life was forced to the extre during this rush. His wife Xiao Su silently shouldered almost all the family responsibilities, caring for the young child, managing household chores, and shielding him from countless unnecessary disturbances. His son Xiao Shu was babbling his first words, learning to walk, and he regretfully missed many of these firsts in his growth. Xiao Su never complained, but Yang Ping knew he owed her a lot.
On the first day of the break, Yang Ping didn’t set an alarm clock. When he awoke, sunlight was already streaming into the bedroom through the gaps in the curtains. Next to him, Xiao Su was still sound asleep, breathing softly. From the crib, he could hear his son’s babbling self-talk.
He didn’t get up imdiately but lay quietly, savoring this long-lost, pure tranquility. No urgent emails, no international calls, no pending problems. Only the breath of his family, and the occasional chirping of birds from outside the window.
Xiao Su woke up to see Yang Ping still lying down, a bit surprised: "Not going to the institute today?"
"Not going," Yang Ping turned to look at her, "For the next two weeks, I’m not going much, on vacation."
Xiao Su’s eyes suddenly brightened, then pretended to pout: "Oh, the great scientist finally rembers he has a family?"
Yang Ping held her hand and softly said, "You’ve worked hard. During this ti, the family all depended on you. Now it’s my turn."
Xiao Su’s eyes slightly reddened, and she turned her face away: "Who cares... Go change your son’s diaper; he’s been awake for a while."
Yang Ping got up smiling. The one-year-old little Xiao Shu was holding onto the crib railing, staring at his father with big bright eyes, babbling "ba...ba...". As Yang Ping approached, he imdiately stretched out two small arms for a hug.
Yang Ping’s heart instantly softened utterly. He clumsily but gently picked up his son, feeling the warmth and dependence of that small body. Changing diapers, dressing, feeding breakfast... these mundane chores that Xiao Su usually handled, he did rather clumsily but with delight. Xiao Shu seed to enjoy his dad’s "service" too, occasionally giggling and using sticky rice cereal-covered hands to grab Yang Ping’s face.
After breakfast, Yang Ping pushed the stroller, walking with Xiao Su in the community. The autumn air was crisp and the sunshine warm. Like the most ordinary young parents, they chatted about the child’s antics, planned where to buy groceries, and discussed whether to get a new houseplant. No Nobel Prize, no system adjustnts, no global cooperation, just the trivialities of life and the laughter of a child.
Xiao Su held onto Yang Ping’s arm, resting her head gently on his shoulder, and softly said, "It’s so nice, like when you weren’t as famous."
Yang Ping was touched, tightening his arm: "In the future, I’ll try to make more ti like this."
"I don’t believe you," Xiao Su said with a smile growing at the corners of her mouth, "Once you dive into the institute, you forget everything else. But... having these two weeks, I’m already very happy."
In the afternoon, Yang Ping played with building blocks with Xiao Shu on the living room carpet. The little guy had no interest in building, but loved to slap down the "castle" built by his dad, then laugh triumphantly. Yang Ping didn’t mind, playing the "destruction and rebuilding" ga over and over with his son, enjoying this purposeless parent-child ti.
The phone vibrated once on the coffee table. It was a few ssages from the work group. Yang Ping looked, it was Zhang Lin’s mountain hiking photos full of green and babbling streams, captioned: "Signal is on and off, don’t worry!" Tang Shun posted a side view of Li Yingtong struggling to do a pose in prenatal yoga class, drawing a lot of "cheers" and "blessings". Song Zimo shared a group photo by the lake at the resort, everyone’s smile relaxed and content under the sunset.
Yang Ping smiled slightly, didn’t reply, set the phone to silent, and placed it back. At this mont, his task was to be a good dad to the little "destroyer" and a husband to the wife humming a song in the kitchen preparing dinner.
The days of rest flew by quickly but were exceptionally fulfilling.
Yang Ping beca adept at giving Xiao Shu a bath, making simple baby food, and telling childish bedti stories. He and Xiao Su went shopping at a long-missed mall, watched a movie, and had a romantic dinner at a riverside restaurant.
He finally had ti to sit quietly in the study, not to handle business, but to reread books he’d wanted to read unrelated to current research. One on philosophy of complex systems, one on amusing failures in the history of science, and another purely entertaining science fiction novel. His mind could explore broader, freer realms, sotis sparking novel ideas about his core research.
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