Chapter Seventeen: Jiang Chen’s New Home

Ye Haisheng first took a jewelry box from his briefcase and placed it on the table. When he opened it, there lay a necklace inlaid with tiny diamonds. The diamonds were small, yet they sparkled brilliantly.

“This necklace caught Dad’s eye at the North City Mall. It looked especially pretty, and it will go perfectly with the little dress I brought back for you,” he said, pushing the necklace toward Ye Mian. Then, he took a slightly worn notebook from his bag and, after a moment’s thought, added, “This seems to be some study notes your classmate gave you. That classmate of yours is quite nice. And you’re doing well too—loving to study is a good thing.”

Ye Mian’s gaze didn’t linger on the necklace; instead, it focused solely on the notebook. She paused, lost in thought for a while, then finally asked, “Was it a tall boy?”

Ye Haisheng nodded with a cheerful smile, his eyes nearly squinting shut. “Yes, he looked a bit familiar to me—seemed gentle and well-behaved. He’s your classmate, isn’t he? I didn’t get it wrong, did I?”

Ye Mian blinked.

Looking at her father’s earnest expression, she couldn’t help but picture Jiang Chen’s face in her mind.

Well-behaved?

That was hard to say.

Her father had probably been deceived by Jiang Chen’s appearance.

She stood up, flipped through the notebook, and upon seeing the neat, handsome handwriting, quickly asked, “Dad, did he leave?”

“He left,” Ye Haisheng replied, stretching his wrists. After hauling several big boxes home, his hands were sore.

“All right, I’ll go make dinner. After we eat, the two of us can go for a walk.”

“All right, Dad,” Ye Mian replied softly, lowering her head and clutching the notebook. She paused, then picked up her phone to confirm that Jiang Chen still hadn’t replied to her message.

A faint sense of disappointment welled up in her chest.

Was he really that busy?

If so, why bother delivering the study notes to her?

And if he wasn’t that busy, why not reply to her message?

Ye Mian didn’t know where this tangled feeling came from, but it made her mood heavy and subdued.

The moon’s outline appeared in the west, and from the kitchen came the sizzle of hot oil, filling the house with the long-missed aroma of home.

Ye Haisheng’s cooking was excellent, though he was a bit slow. Ye Mian didn’t rush him, quietly leafing through the study notes.

It wasn’t until dusk that Ye Haisheng finally brought out a few dishes. “Mianmian, dinner’s ready.”

“Coming!” Ye Mian called, already poking her head out from the living room, drawn by the enticing smells.

On the table sat three dishes and a soup: braised prawns in oil, garlic chicken wings, stir-fried baby bok choy, and lotus root chicken soup.

The rich aromas made her appetite soar.

Ye Mian sniffed and teased, “Dad, you could make good money as a chef with skills like yours.”

She pulled out a small stool and sat down eagerly.

Ye Haisheng served out two bowls of rice, putting one in front of Ye Mian first. “Deal—when I retire, I’ll become a chef and buy you all the pretty dresses you want.”

Ye Mian took the rice and laughed. “Better not, or I’ll look like an unfilial daughter.”

She tasted the garlic chicken wing—the crispy skin split open to reveal tender, juicy meat bursting with garlic flavor.

“It’s delicious,” Ye Mian said, her eyes narrowing in happiness. Then she added with a smile, “Or maybe it’s not a bad idea—at least everyone would benefit.”

She ate without noticing anything amiss.

Ye Haisheng smiled in silence, wiping his hands with a wet cloth, his heart full of mixed emotions and a deep ache.

Hearing the word “filial” from his daughter, he truly didn’t know how to respond.

Ever since his wife left, he hadn’t been around much. The nanny had cared for his daughter until she was sixteen.

He was deeply aware of how much he owed her.

But if he gave up his job, he would no longer be able to provide her with a good life. All he could do was try to make up for the lack of companionship by meeting her needs unconditionally.

Fortunately, his daughter had grown more and more sensible and hadn’t gone astray.

—

After dinner, the heat still lingered, though the night brought a cool breeze. Many people chose to go for a walk after their meal.

Ye Mian also accompanied Ye Haisheng outside, walking slowly in slippers through the old alley.

Ye Haisheng looked at his daughter, who was growing taller, in the bloom of youth, with arched brows and bright almond-shaped eyes—graceful and lovely. Even his usually stern face couldn’t help but soften into a smile.

The neighbors lining the street all greeted Ye Haisheng warmly, and he responded with equal enthusiasm.

They walked on and gradually came to a more distant western alley.

At the mouth of the alley, Old Man Zhong was having dinner in his courtyard with his son, talking endlessly about the exam results of someone’s son.

His son had graduated from a prestigious university—Old Man Zhong’s proudest achievement in life.

When he saw Ye Haisheng and his daughter passing by, he tapped his pipe on the table and called out with a voice aged but still strong, “Ah, Haisheng, you’re back?”

Ye Mian and Ye Haisheng turned at the sound. Ye Haisheng smiled, “Uncle Zhong, having dinner?”

Looking at Old Man Zhong and his son, Ye Mian felt an inexplicable discomfort.

This feeling made her stop in her tracks. She didn’t follow her father into Old Man Zhong’s courtyard but stood quietly outside, listening.

When the small talk ended and she followed her father away, the unease in her heart eased a little, and she didn’t dwell on it.

The street on the west side was not as wide as the one near Ye Mian’s home, only enough for two or three people to pass at once. There were few streetlights.

Ye Mian had never walked this way before.

For one thing, there were no shops here, just a few bars and internet cafes.

For another, the streets were complicated, and there were no familiar faces.

So she wasn’t familiar with the neighborhood.

But she hadn’t walked far before she stopped in her tracks.

A gentle evening breeze swept the street. Beneath a streetlamp ahead, Jiang Chen—who hadn’t attended school—appeared in her line of sight.

He was standing sideways, tall and slender, carrying a box. His arm was still wrapped in gauze, and his eyes held the same indifference as on the day of the fire.

It was a look Ye Mian found hard to decipher.

She glanced at her father beside her and managed to suppress the urge to call out to Jiang Chen, but her steps quickened.

She wanted to go over and see—see why he was here.

But Jiang Chen walked too quickly.

She could only watch helplessly as the boy entered a courtyard, closed the door, and vanished from sight.

From a distance, the courtyard didn’t look particularly shabby—just smaller than the building where Jiang Chen used to live, with some vines climbing up the walls.

Ye Mian realized this was probably Jiang Chen’s new home.

“Mianmian, we’ve walked far enough—let’s head back.”

Ye Haisheng, not noticing anything amiss, called gently to his daughter, who was drifting farther away, “When we get home, I’ll check how your homework is coming along.”

“Oh, okay. Coming,” Ye Mian replied, glancing back to memorize the address of the little courtyard before running back to her father’s side.

All the way home, Ye Mian felt especially lighthearted, her big eyes curving into crescents like the thin moon hanging in the sky.

The sudden joy was subtle and strange.

Well, it was good that Jiang Chen had found a place to live.

And it wasn’t… too far away.

That really was wonderful.