The scene indeed was a little... well, quite chaotic.
Arnold Simmons ca out of the kitchen, his hands still wet, "On your hands."
It took nearly an hour for Hannah to finally get all the window paper-cuts she bought up on the window.
Through the gaps in the bright red paper-cuts, trains chugged past outside the window, with white smoke billowing from their chimneys—the breath of life in this human world.
It was sothing Arnold had not felt in over a decade.
Watching the busy figure of the young girl in the living room, it was at this mont that he finally understood that he too could be soone cherished.
Although this love had co a bit late, he was still willing to protect it with all he had.
Arnold Simmons made the entire New Year’s Eve dinner himself, while Hannah lit the lantern at the door and sat on the sofa waiting for him, with the slightly outdated television playing the news. The Spring Festival Gala would start a little later.
When she turned her head back, the previously empty table now had several steaming dishes on it.
Many of which were selected together with Arnold at the market.
"Arnold, I think you’ve really got a talent for being a good husband and father."
Hannah leaned on the back of the sofa chair, looking up at him.
Arnold was carefully arranging the tableware, head bowed; he seed to have a bit of OCD, as he had to place everything neatly, even the fruit in the fruit bowl was stacked orderly.
"What good husband and father?"
"It’s just... I’m praising you for being virtuous."
She cradled her small face in her hands, smiling like a child in a New Year’s picture, with two rabbit ears hanging from her fluffy coat’s hood, childishly cute.
Arnold chuckled softly, "Go wash your hands for dinner."
"Okay!"
She obediently got up and went to the bathroom.
The once noisy firecrackers could not invade the solitude of the house, but now, after being decorated by Hannah, it seed to instantly warm up. The bright red was no longer harsh on the eyes but beautiful instead.
Soone set off firecrackers outside, it must have been children playing, through the courtyard in front of the door you could faintly see the fireworks under the night sky.
Fireworks blood in the sky like silver trees, and the crackling sound was like teors streaking across the night.
After dinner, Hannah volunteered to wash the dishes. Arnold retrieved gloves from the kitchen and asked her, "Are you sure?"
Her eyes sparkled as she nodded repeatedly, "Yes."
Arnold had just stretched out his hand, then drew it back, laughed softly, and put the gloves on himself, "Never mind, I’m afraid you’ll smash my dishes."
He carried the dishes into the kitchen.
Hannah, wearing slightly oversized compromise slippers, clattered after him into the kitchen, "Don’t you trust ? I wash dishes at ho too."
At her age, she would hardly be incompetent at washing dishes.
Arnold had already put the dishes and utensils in the sink, his tall and slender form making the small kitchen feel sowhat oppressive.
In the confined room, his voice seed to beco more steady and pleasant, "Girls should not wash the dishes."
"Why?"
Arnold turned off the tap, turned around, leaned against the edge of the sink, slightly bent his long legs, a faint smile in his eyes softening the blackness, which seed sowhat endearing, "Because I like doing the dishes the most, don’t fight with over it."
It was obviously sothing nice to say, but it took on a different flavor coming from him.
As if he was challenging her.
Hannah was perplexed, "Why fight over doing the dishes."
Arnold didn’t bother to explain any further and turned back to switch the tap on again.
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