Mommy, don't be afraid, I'll bring you blind boxes and scam you out of a wealthy family to

Zhongxing Street.

This old teahouse has been open for many years. The wooden windows are half-closed, the aroma of tea wafts through the air, and even the tables and chairs are still the same as they were back then.

Qin Zhiyuan walked up to the second floor with ease.

Wu Qiming had already arrived at the window seat.

As always, he was dressed in a Tang suit and looked as energetic as ever.

He saw her, smiled, and stood up: "You're here."

Qin Zhiyuan smiled back, "Have you been waiting long?"

"I just arrived too."

Wu Qiming pushed the teacup over: "This is all the first harvest from Lion Peak this year. Try it."

Qin Zhiyuan picked it up, smelled it, and took a sip: "It's really clean."

They naturally started chatting over a cup of tea.

Life abroad. Development in China. Who got promoted and who retired in the ministry. The embassy has moved several times, and even the porcelain vases in the lobby have been replaced.

Wu Qiming listened attentively, occasionally making a joke.

The two had not seen each other for many years, but there was no awkwardness between them.

The person sitting opposite you has a face etched with the marks of time, yet what you see is the soul of each other in their youth.

However, even after half a pot of tea had been drunk, Wu Qiming kept circling around trivial and uninteresting topics.

Qin Zhiyuan picked up her teacup and gently blew on it to cool it down: "You specially invited me today, surely you didn't just come here to have tea with me?"

Wu Qiming had anticipated this: "So, meeting old friends, having tea and reminiscing, doesn't count as serious business?"

Qin Zhiyuan chuckled.

He was like that when he was young, and he's still like that now. What a cunning old fox.

He was patient, so she didn't press the matter. She glanced at the bustling streets and alleys, then seemed to remember something: "You didn't bring Xiao Shuo today? That's not like you."

Mentioning his beloved grandson, Wu Qiming smiled, his eyes crinkling with deep wrinkles: "You know me, of course I brought him. We old folks get bored talking, so I let him wander around by himself."

Qin Zhiyuan shook her head: "You still spoil him so much."

"You have grandchildren now, isn't that the same thing?"

Qin Zhiyuan paused slightly: "...You're quite well-informed."

"Such a big matter involving your Duan family, who in Tan City doesn't know about it?" Wu Qiming said. "I heard it's a very likable young girl?"

Mentioning Wen Li, Qin Zhiyuan's expression softened: "She's a good child."

Wu Qiming became interested: "Do you have any photos?"

Qin Zhiyuan took out her phone, and sure enough, the album was full of photos of the same little baby.

He was drinking milk, his mouth covered in white hair;

Squatting in the garden, I carefully counted the ants;

After falling asleep, her little face was buried in the blanket;

Holding up a small red flower, she looked shyly at the camera;

……

Each one is so clear and sweet.

As Wu Qiming flipped through the pages, he couldn't help but sigh, "Girls are just different; they're so endearing."

He returned the phone: "The photos are so cute, I really want to meet them in person."

Qin Zhiyuan put away her phone: "What's the rush? We'll see each other this weekend."

Wu Qiming nodded: "That's true."

However, no one could have predicted it.

The little girl they were talking about was downstairs right now.

-

The liveliest spot on Zhongxing Street is always that sugar painting stall.

With a casual pour, the chef poured out a drop of golden syrup, which transformed into a lifelike little fox.

The surrounding area was filled with children, who would scream and clap their hands in waves.

Wen Li was in the second row. She was too short, and her view was blocked by the people in front of her, so she had to stand on tiptoe to try to see through the gaps.

My neatly styled pigtails are now a mess, one side higher than the other—but that only makes them cuter.

The sugar painting master was going to paint Ultraman next, and this caused quite a stir; the little boys rushed forward to get to him.

A four- or five-year-old boy lost his balance and fell to the ground with a thud.

He scratched his palm, paused for two seconds, and his eyes immediately welled up with tears.

The children around him were too busy shouting and drawing Ultraman Tiga or Ultraman Zero to notice him.

Only the youngest, Wen Li, quickly squatted down: "Did you hurt yourself?"

Her voice was soft and sweet, and when the boy heard it, he thought he had met an angel.

He felt embarrassed to cry in front of such a cute little angel, so he sniffed and nodded.

The little dumpling took his hand and blew on it earnestly: "Pear Baby will blow on it for you."

The boy had a pout.

The little dumpling thought for a moment and said, "Wait a minute."

The boy saw that her pockets seemed to be glowing.

When she stretched out her hand again, there was a band-aid in her palm with a snowflake drawn on it.

The little girl helped him stick it on.

The boy saw the snowflake pattern flicker and thought he was seeing things.

However, the wound that was burning just moments ago suddenly became cool and painless.

The boy's eyes widened: "Is this magic?"

The little dumpling's eyes crinkled into a smile: "Yes!"

Both Baba and Gugu said that. Since we can't tell anyone about Hehe's situation, let's just let everyone think that Libao has magic!

The boy touched the band-aid in surprise: "Thank you, little sister."

Wen Li, acting like a little adult, patted his shoulder: "Be a brave man!"

The boy stopped crying and started laughing.

An adult nearby also exclaimed in admiration:

"Wow, she's so young and already knows how to comfort people."

"Whose little girl is this? She's so sweet."

"So cute..."

A little embarrassed by the praise, Xiao Wenli smiled shyly and then went back to looking at the sugar painting.

Not far away, Wu Shuo watched this scene quietly.

He's only six years old. No matter how precocious and mature he seems, it's hard for him not to be attracted to sugar paintings.

But what caught my attention first was the milk ball.

It's tiny, quiet, snow-white, and soft.

Even when squeezed in the crowd, she wasn't noisy like other children.

Then, he saw the milk ball help the injured boy.

Despite being the youngest baby here, he is gentle yet strong and very responsible—his grandfather has always taught him to be responsible.

He didn't understand the meaning of this word before, but today, he seems to understand it a little.

Thus, Wu Shuo's gaze was unknowingly drawn to that little dumpling.

Next to the sugar painting stall, there was a whole row of colorful little windmills, red, orange, yellow and green, a riot of colors.

When the milk ball finally received its sugar painting, it happily held it up, just as a gust of wind blew by.

Dozens of windmills started spinning rapidly.

Sunlight filters through the rotating leaves, shattering into flowing, dappled patterns of light and shadow.

The little dumpling didn't realize she was being watched. She tilted her head up, looking at her sugar painting with bright, sparkling smiles in her eyes.

At this moment, the world transformed into a fairytale kingdom, existing solely for her.

Wu Shuo remained in a daze for a long time until the milk ball was taken away by the adults.

The sugar painting artist asked twice, "Little friend, it's your turn. What do you want?"

Wu Shuo was then called back.

He opened his mouth, intending to say that he was just passing by and didn't want to.

However, my peripheral vision was filled with swirling colors.

"...a windmill," he replied.

The sugar painting master was taken aback for a moment, then laughed: "This is the first time I've heard of this. You're quite a unique child."

Wu Shuo watched his master make the windmill, which slowly took shape.

But what still lingers in my mind is the scene of the windmill spinning behind that milk ball, like a dream.

What's wrong with me? Why am I thinking about a stranger—someone I might never see again in this lifetime?

Wu Shuo, six years old, faced a problem he couldn't understand or solve for the first time in his life.

-

After three rounds of tea.

The noise outside the window was deafening. Wu Qiming looked away and said, "I did ask you to come today because there's something I need to discuss."

Qin Zhiyuan's expression was knowing.

After drinking tea for so long, we've finally gotten to the main topic.

Wu Qiming stopped dodging the question: "I have a student... I think you've heard of him. This time, he was in the wrong."

Qin Zhiyuan didn't reply, but listened quietly.

Wu Qiming sighed, "I've taught this student for many years. His current state is a failure on my part as a teacher. Therefore, I'm swallowing my pride and asking for your help."

Qin Zhiyuan remained calm: "I can't make that decision. You'll have to ask my family, He Hetong."

Wu Qiming waved his hands repeatedly: "Hey, hey, I can't persuade him. Everyone in Tan City knows that the president of the Duan Group has the same temper as your old Duan."

Not far away, an old man was sitting.

He wore a top hat properly, leaned his cane against the chair, and his silver hair was combed neatly.

A financial newspaper was spread out in front of him, obscuring most of his face; it was unclear whose elderly gentleman he was.

It was this same old gentleman who, upon hearing Wu Qiming's last sarcastic remark, trembled as he held the newspaper.

Wu Qiming glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, a slight smile playing on his lips, and said to Qin Zhiyuan, "I'm not necessarily pleading for anyone. Let the young people handle their own affairs. Consider this a visit to an old friend for tea."

He deliberately leaned forward and emphasized the words "old friend".

Qin Zhiyuan smiled and stood up: "Then I'll be going now."

"I send you."

The two walked side by side toward the entrance of the teahouse.

They deliberately took a detour past the old gentleman's table.

Just then, a little dumpling carrying a sugar painting came running in.

Even from a distance, she called out in a clear voice, "Grandpa, Grandpa! Look! It's cat candy!"

The old gentleman reflexively looked up: "Slow down—"

Words spoken are like water spilled; once you realize the gravity of the situation, it's too late to take them back.

He stood frozen in place.

Qin Zhiyuan looked in the direction of the sound.

Their eyes met.

Duan Yuanzhou remained silent, nonchalantly raising the newspaper slightly.

A pointless attempt to cover one's face.

Qin Zhiyuan said calmly, "You took it upside down."

Duan Yuanzhou: "..."

Duan Yuanzhou remained expressionless, turning the newspaper over as if nothing had happened.

As for whether his face turned red or black under that wide brim of his hat, no one knows.

Wu Qiming finally burst out laughing: "Old Duan, you've been doing this trick since you were twenty, and you're still not tired of it?"

Duan Yuanzhou snorted: "What are you playing? I just want to have a cup of tea, do I have to report to anyone?"

Wu Qiming didn't expose him, just smiled and shook his head: "Alright, alright, you always have a reason. Only Zhiyuan is willing to fall for your act."

Duan Yuanzhou's eyebrows shot up: "What do you mean by that?"

Qin Zhiyuan stood aside, watching the two old men, whose combined age was over a hundred, bicker without urging them on.

After a long pause, he calmly asked, "Are you finished?"

The two immediately fell silent.

Of course, someone glared at someone without leaving a trace.

Qin Zhiyuan no longer cared about them and waved to a spot not far away: "Lili."

The little bundle of joy ran over, both surprised and delighted: "Grandma!"

Qin Zhiyuan smiled and looked at her: "Lili, would you like to stay here with Grandpa, or go home with Grandma first?"