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Hm, I'll Wait For You
When Yang Qing saw that 500,000 check, he was almost shocked to the point of sliding off the hospital bed.
"Mr…… Song, this……couldn't be real right?" The hands holding the check trembled as he asked very carefully.
Looking at Yang Qing, Song Xuan was a bit disappointed.
The man before him was emaciated, overcautious, and feeble, the appearance of a very typical rural villager. From his appearance, it didn't look like he was trying to play the fool or pretend to be naive. This really made him unable to understand how he could turn out such a clever and perceptive daughter.
"Mr. Yang, this is real, it's gained from little ZiMei's antique exchange." Song Xuan looked at the Yang ZiMei calmly standing at one side. Suddenly he had an illusion that the one who stood beside him was an indifferent and surreal mature woman.
When he blinked and looked again, it was the same adorable short bobbed hairstyle, blinking her big eyes, five-year-old little girl. [1]
When he made eye contact with her, his heart suddenly beat intensely. It created a peculiar feeling, making his heart tighten.
He didn't understand where this kind of emotion emerge from. As if his mouth wasn't his own, he said, "Mr. Yang, I'm very fond of your daughter and want to keep her by my side to teach about antiques. I don't know if you'll permit it?"
"Huh?" Yang Qing looked at him, very surprised. In regard to Song Xuan's identity, he also knew of it because every time he's come to city, he also liked to stroll the antiques market to see what's new and for the liveliness.
Mo Pavilion was city's biggest antiques shop and Song Xuan was not only the owner but also an appraiser trusted and revered in the antique's world.
This kind of great person actually wanted to lead his own daughter as his disciple?
Yang ZiMei was also very surprised.
In the previous life, he hadn't so much as even glanced at her. On the contrary, as she had set up stall, she'd often looked at his appearance with his head lowered to carefully appraise items. She had thought that middle aged uncle was very dependable and refined.
Of course, he wasn't a middle-aged uncle at the moment because time reversed 23 years. Song Xuan was now about 30 years old with a tall build, calm manner, and a refined temperament like that of a scholar but also the shrewdness of a businessman.
From the eyes of her 28-year-old woman self, this man was honestly not bad, especially when he lowered his head to focus on appraising.
Seeing how profitable the antiques business was, she really wanted to learn. Even though she could see the antique's qi, she couldn't comprehend its value nor its origins. If she wanted to deal in the line of antiques, she still had to master it.
However, she still hadn't completely grasped her master's metaphysics and also didn't know if the fate of her family's decimation in half a year could be changed.
Before she could completely get pass this calamity, she didn't want to leave her parents' side for too long. Therefore, with a grateful manner, she said to Song Xuan, "Mr. Song, I'm very thankful for your great kindness. I also very much wanted to follow you and study but I hope it could be a year later."
Song Xuan heard her matured words, looked at her with his black pupils for a bit, and nodded, "Okay, I'll wait for you!"
When he said "I'll wait for you", that look, tone, and expression was as if he said it to someone he loved, carrying a kind of deep emotion and devotion.
This made the Yang ZiMei's heart hidden within that five-year-old body that hasn't ever experienced true love, the heart of a young woman, slightly jumped a beat and her ears turned red.
Seeing that her jade porcelain like face had an adorable shade of red on it, Song Xuan couldn't help it and reached out his hand to pet her soft raven black hair. As if possessed, he said again: "Hm, I'll wait for you!" [2]
Yang ZiMei's face became a fiercer red as she dodged his hand.
1. TL note: from experience, it's probably that dreaded stereotypical bowl haircut.
2. Idiom: unexplained event that seems to be the work of supernatural origins. As if the work of gods and demons.
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