Hannah was led by him, holding only two bags of mushrooms and green onions, not having had ti to pay for the eggs she’d picked earlier.
"I can’t cook at," she said.
Arnold Simmons ignored her, adeptly selecting from the vendor, from slaughtering to plucking feathers, to dealing with the innards, only paying after everything was handled.
All Hannah could do was obediently follow behind him and watch.
Then she murmured softly, "I don’t know how to cook any of this stuff you’re buying."
Getting no response from Arnold Simmons, she changed her approach and asked, "Would it be simpler to make soup with this at? What seasonings should I use? Can I add the green onions and mushrooms I bought?"
Arnold Simmons took the fish that the vendor had prepared, "Do you spend New Year’s alone?"
"Yes," Hannah replied.
Arnold Simmons hesitated for a long while, then changed his phrasing at the last mont, "I’ll teach you how to cook."
Hannah was surprised, "You can cook?"
The sun erged from behind the clouds, its light not dazzling but casting a thin layer that didn’t produce any stark shadows, yet still felt very warm.
Looking into those bright black eyes, Arnold Simmons suddenly felt that the girl, usually so gifted in her studies, had her silly monts too.
He sighed softly, "Alright, I’ll take a loss this ti and be your free chef."
...
This was probably the first real New Year Arnold Simmons had ever celebrated.
In the past, he felt like he was isolated from the festive bustle of New Year’s, the only holiday atmosphere he experienced being firecrackers thrown at his feet as a prank.
They wanted to see him panic, pale-faced, but he never did.
He had never played with firecrackers, lit fireworks, nor hung up Spring Festival couplets.
Before, he couldn’t; now, he didn’t want to, or perhaps it was unnecessary.
Now, he watched as Hannah took out items from the red plastic bag, including Spring Festival couplets, window decorations, and small decorative lanterns.
All of this felt completely out of place in his shabby room.
When Hannah had suggested coming to his place, he had thought about refusing.
He knew the look on people’s faces when they talked about the northern district of the city, a look of disgust, resistance, and scorn.
But he also had his selfish motives.
Selfishly wanting to pull Hannah into his world.
"Why would you want to go to my place?" he asked her.
The girl, seemingly without even thinking, blurted out, "Because I want to bring the festivity to you."
The bright red Spring Festival couplets, beautiful fireworks, and loud firecrackers, all these are the excitent of the New Year. If it were at my place, you wouldn’t see them once you got ho.
Arnold Simmons hadn’t expected this answer, and for a mont, it felt like soone was clutching his heart, filling his chest with sourness.
Hannah, unaware of the change in the young man’s gaze, rely continued on her own, "It might be a bit chaotic at the scene later on."
He didn’t understand the aning of this remark at that ti.
But now he did.
Everything in the bag was taken out by Hannah in one go, placed on the table, on the chairs, even on the TV.
"Arnold Simmons, is this couplet hung straight?"
"Arnold Simmons, can you pass the double-sided tape?"
"Arnold Simmons, where are the window decorations?"
The girl stood amidst the bright red decorations, her hair a bit frizzy from static, her face sared with dust, probably from bumping into the door.
With a paper-cut window decoration in her left hand and scissors in the right, she turned around on the spot, looking down carefully for sothing.
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