Mr. Li was still reminiscing with Mr. Jing about the old days when Jing Jihan had already left the old man’s bedroom.
Hui saw that Mr. Jing had returned and was about to ask if he would stay for dinner at the Jing Family ho that night, but she just saw Mr. Jing retrieve sothing from the bedroom before leaving. It seed he didn’t intend to stay, so she refrained from asking.
The old man had also co out of the bedroom, leaning on a cane. Seeing that Jing Jihan wasn’t staying long, he squinted at him and asked, "Is the injury you got in Hong Kong healed?"
Hui, afraid that Mr. Jing would misunderstand, quickly said, "Mr. Jing, it wasn’t who said it..."
Mr. Jing placed both hands on his cane, frowned, and said, "Si Xue called a few days ago to check on my health and casually asked about your injury. She said she was only in Hong Kong temporarily and couldn’t co to Jiang City. It was only when she ntioned it that I knew you got injured out there. Such a big thing happened, and I was the last to know. Are you all well now?"
Saying this, the old man deliberately glanced at Jing Jihan’s shoulder, noting his ease of movent and nothing amiss. Reflecting on how he had walked in earlier without showing any discomfort, he figured it must have fully healed.
Jing Jihan wasn’t keen on discussing the matter further; he replied indifferently, "Just a surface wound, not worth ntioning."
Hui, standing nearby, also looked at Mr. Jing with an innocent expression. Seeing he wasn’t blaming her, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Even though she had indeed visited Kaixing Mansion during those days to change Mr. Jing’s dressings and cook a few tis, most of the ti it wasn’t Mr. Jing who called her; it was either Shi Su or her assistant giving instructions over the phone. Back then, Mr. Jing didn’t permit her to speak of it at the Jing Family ho, so despite knowing about his injury and the fact Miss Shi Su was still in contact with Mr. Jing, she did not dare to say a word upon returning.
The news of Mr. Jing’s injury was certainly ntioned by Miss Si Xue during a phone call, but the exact cause of the injury was unknown to Hui, and she never dared to ask.
...
After standing outside in the wind for a while, with winter fast approaching, it was indeed cold. As the old man returned to the bedroom, he noticed the album on the chaise with the page still open to photos of young Jing Jihan.
He stared at the photo for a while, then suddenly squinted and picked up the album again.
Mr. Li noticed the deep contemplative look on the old man’s face and couldn’t help but ask, "What’s the matter?"
After scrutinizing the photo, the old man said, "Why does it feel like I’ve seen this sowhere before...?"
Mr. Li glanced at the photo, and seeing the old man’s serious pondering, he chuckled and said, "How could you not have seen it? It’s your own grandson; he’s been in front of you since he was a child."
The old man shot him a glance, ignoring Mr. Li’s nonsense.
He must have seen it.
But it had been a while, and for the mont, he couldn’t recall where he had seen it.
It felt as if those familiar features had appeared not only in mories from over twenty years ago but also sowhere in the past couple of years.
At that ti, he had experienced a strong sense of familiarity.
Having pondered over it for a long ti, he still couldn’t recall what year or place he had seen it.
Mr. Li worried that soon the old man would start delving into those old photos again, getting lost in endless listening to sorrowful operas. He quickly reached over, took the album, and set it aside: "Do you want to go for a walk, or perhaps have a nap?"
The old man remained there, in a daze, leaving Mr. Li with no choice but to place the album aside.
"When Jihan left just now, what was he carrying?" the old man suddenly asked as he sat back on the chaise.
Mr. Li hadn’t seen clearly at that mont either, and right then, Hui had just brought in so dicinal food for the old man. She looked towards him and shook her head: "...Did not see clearly."
-
Nearby Wanxing Building’s public kindergarten.
The kindergarten senior class kids now spend more ti in lessons, and occasionally, they are brought outside by the teacher for gas.
As the kids ran and jumped on the colorful playground ground, one child ran too fast, suddenly fell, and though it wasn’t serious, without broken skin, she bruised her face upon hitting the ground, and sat there crying.
The teacher consoled for a while, but with other mischievous kids needing supervision, she unexpectedly called Mianmian from the group, asking her to accompany the fallen child to rest a bit.
Because Mianmian is currently the little class president in the kindergarten senior class.
When the child first cried, Mianmian already wanted to co over, so when the teacher called her, she happily rushed over to sit beside the fallen child, helping caress her face and blow on it, saying in a grown-up manner, "There, it doesn’t hurt anymore, it doesn’t hurt. You’re already six years old, and if you don’t know how to tie shoes, you’ll fall this ti and next ti as well. Let teach you how to tie shoelaces~"
The fallen child, also a girl, looked at Mianmian with tear-filled, bewildered eyes, sniffing and asking, "...Uh, how do you tie them?"
Mianmian’s large, round eyes smiled and bent into crescents as she directly squatted down in front of her, with small hands deftly weaving and looping the shoelaces of the child’s sneakers. Although her movents were a bit awkward, they were quite standard, and in less than a minute, one shoelace was tied.
"That’s how you tie them; my mommy taught ~" Mianmian said as she pointed to the child’s other shoelace, "Do you want to tie that one the sa way?"
"Yes, please! It’s so pretty!" The child stopped crying and shook her little shoes.
The two little girls sat on the kindergarten’s colorful playground; one mont tying shoelaces, then whispering secrets in each other’s ears, and soon holding hands to gleefully jump back into the line to find the teacher. Then, they played gas like ’One, Two, Three, Wooden Man’ with the others.
Four-year-old Mianmian was impish and lively, always on the move. At six, she was slightly more grown-up, still quirky and energetic but far more sensible than two years ago. Her innocent, albeit slightly mature appearance, though of the sa age as her peers, held a hint of maturity.
The teachers were particularly fond of Mianmian, noticing she had inherited her mother’s beauty and cheerful personality, though they couldn’t tell who she got her precociousness from.
A black Bentley was parked in the empty space beside the kindergarten’s playground, though it was unclear when it had arrived or how long it had been there.
Until Mianmian, with a head of sweat, ran out of the line again, going back to the classroom to fetch disinfectant wipes for other recently fallen children to clean their hands.
Acting as a little adult, Mianmian helped the children wipe their hands while turning to ask the teacher all sorts of questions. Shortly, the children once again ford a line, obediently heading back to the classroom.
Mianmian stood at the end of the line, checking the ground for any litter the children might have accidentally dropped, and upon looking back, she noticed the parked car outside the kindergarten, curiously blinking her eyes.
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