Steam rises from the breakfast stall, filling the air with the aroma of noodles.

This breakfast stall is located next to the school. It's usually not crowded during holidays. The interior is very nice, with the floors gleaming clean and the place looking very hygienic.

The breakfast stall is run by a young couple with simple, honest smiles.

Ying Qian took a bite of the bun, and the meat filling was revealed in front of her.

It's quite affordable.

After a long time, Ying Qian was the only customer left in the shop.

"Young lady, are you from out of town?"

"That's what the proprietress asked."

Ying Qian looked up, "Huh?"

After realizing she had been asked the question, she answered, "Yes, I'm from out of town."

The proprietress smiled at Ying Qian and said, "My daughter is studying at a university in another city and doesn't come back during holidays."

Ying Qian didn't know what to say.

The boss came out of the cubicle, having apparently overheard the conversation, and said, "Why are you talking about this with that young girl?"

The proprietress smiled awkwardly, nudged the man, and scolded him, "Why can't you say it? You won't even swallow your pride and call your daughter."

It was an awkward situation.

Meng Beiyan came over, having changed out of his cotton-padded coat and into a beige hooded sweatshirt. The sweatshirt had no patterns, which made him look simple. He walked to Ying Qian's side under her gaze.

Thank goodness he came, otherwise I really wouldn't know what to say to the couple.

"Come on, what are you standing there staring at me for?" He tugged at Ying Qian's wrist, almost like he was pleading.

Ying Qian took his hand and said, "Okay, let's go then!"

The proprietress watched the two figures walk away and said, "Take care! Welcome back next time!"

Ying Qian skillfully straddled the back of the electric scooter and then grabbed the handrail next to the seat.

Meng Beiyan's eyes were complicated. He wanted to ask why she didn't put her arms around his waist, but in the end, he didn't ask.

Two cowards.

Facing the wind all the way, I wasn't cold at all; on the contrary, I had the illusion of a spring breeze on my face.

The place where the balloons were being played was Dad's new house, in a high-end neighborhood, completely different from the old, dilapidated house he lived in a few years ago. Dad had opened a factory and become a boss, while his daughter was wandering outside.

Fortunately, neither my father nor his wife were home.

Only a few of the bride's family members were helping to decorate the house with ribbons, balloons, and other decorations.

As soon as I entered, a middle-aged woman who looked fierce said, "Xiao Meng! Who is this girl? Is she your boyfriend? She's quite pretty."

Her voice wasn't pleasant, but she seemed quite outgoing, since she soon started calling Meng Beiyan "Little Meng".

Ying Qian pouted and hid behind Meng Beiyan.

He could easily cover Ying Qian up, and his answer was simple: "My sister."

The woman became even more enthusiastic and rushed up to ask, "Your sister? How old is she? Introduce her to my youngest son when she's older."

Upon hearing this, the air around Meng Beiyan suddenly froze, as if he had to use all his strength to force a smile. "Auntie, my sister is too young and not of marriageable age yet."

Ying Qian thought to herself: What a pipe dream.

The woman didn't press the issue, simply taking it as a joke and laughing it off.

The group sat on the sofa, watching an old spy movie on TV. Gunshots rang out constantly, and the sound of a kettle boiling water in the kitchen was mixed in with the gunfire.

It seemed that only Meng Beiyan was still bothered by the few words he had just said. His lips were pursed into a thin line, and every move he made while popping the balloon revealed his anger and impatience.

Ying Qian pursed her lips and almost unconsciously reached out to squeeze his palm.

He only looked up at Ying Qian with a puzzled expression, his mood unchanged, still stuck in the context of those few words from before.

Ying Qian then realized that the gesture of pinching someone's palm doesn't work for everyone. Perhaps only Chen Wenzhi in this world can understand her and be on the same wavelength as her.

A hint of disappointment flickered in her eyes. She withdrew her hand and continued to inflate the balloon with the air pump.

There weren't many family members, only five or six, all from the woman's side of the family. Ying Qian was still feeling fortunate; if it had been her father's relatives, they would have recognized her, and that would have been the end of her.

The woman who was about to introduce her son noticed that Ying Qian remained silent and her complexion was getting worse. It was obvious that she suspected Ying Qian was mute.

Thinking about it, the woman sighed heavily, grabbed a handful of candy from the drawer, and placed it in front of Ying Qian. "Girl, have some candy. It's okay for a child to eat a little more candy."

Ying Qian continued tying balloons in her hand, and smiled slightly when she saw a large handful of candy on the table in front of her.

Meng Beiyan thanked her on her behalf before she could.

Ying Qian looked puzzled: What's going on? Is my new character supposed to be mute?

Thinking about it, this is probably for the best.

During their casual conversation, Ying Qian finally figured out the woman's identity. She was the woman's mother, and she had two children: the woman was the eldest daughter, and she also had a young son who was only 22 years old.

A series of knocks sounded on the door.

"Jun Jun, go open the door, quick!" the woman shouted into the room.

The child, who had been staying in the room, ran to open the door.

Ying Qian swallowed hard, then squeezed closer to Meng Beiyan, and focused on popping the balloons with her head down.

Meng Beiyan ruffled her hair.

"When soldiers come, we'll block them; when water comes, we'll dam it," he said softly.

Ying Qian nodded.

Ying Qian recognized the people who came in; they were her uncle's family, who had always disliked her mother. Her aunt, Li Jinfeng, was just as she remembered her: a mean-spirited face, carrying a designer handbag, and behaving in an extremely affected manner.

It was her who constantly whispered in her father's ear, badmouthing her mother.

The eldest uncle, Ying Zeping, was rather honest and simple. He had made a fortune a couple of years ago, and he had become quite wealthy, with a huge beer belly and a gold necklace as thick as a little finger around his neck.

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