the lantern by the door (смешанная)

Jin Ling’s needs were constant and repetitive; they ran like a lifeline through Jiang Cheng’s days. He didn’t need to see past the next feeding, the next changing. He didn’t need to persuade himself to get out of bed in the morning; sooner or later Lingling would cry, and he would find he could move after all. In the middle of the night, when neither of them could sleep, he paced up and down the room, holding Lingling to his chest, whispering, “Jiujiu’s here. I won’t leave you alone. I promise.”
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Jiang Cheng knew Lan Zhan had been seeing way more of Wei Ying than he had, but it still burned: Lan Zhan’s easy familiarity with Wei Ying’s household, with his thoughts. I’m the one that grew up with him. He was mine first.