Chapter 118
Hillman stood on the steps with his eyes wide open. He was a little bit incredulous and subconsciously wanted to refute, but suddenly froze.
Wagner did say he was married to a woman in China.
That was also the last letter he received from this good friend.
Jager Hillman asked hesitantly, "Is your mother Ms. You Daijun?"
At this moment, You Mian was also overwhelmed by the intense shock. He had so many questions to ask, but he didn't know where to start.
You Mian replied: “Yes.”
He knew You Daijun and all of his architectural works and travel experiences, and he had looked them up many times after returning from Song Zheng's tombstone.
But You Mian knew very little about his own father.
Everything that I thought I would never understand is now within reach.
Ecstasy cannot accurately express You Mian's current mood. It can only be said that he is both happy and timid at the moment.
After hearing You Mian’s answer, Hillman’s expression quickly became sad and complicated.
"He had a child and I never knew about it."
Many years later, Hillman said the same thing as Song Zheng. He said, "Your father is the bravest man I have ever met."
You Mian unconsciously clenched Pei Huaiji's hand.
Pei Huaiji stood silently beside him, supporting his lover with his hot palms.
Seeing that the conversation between the two was about to go on endlessly, Marcia couldn't help but be the bad guy. She said, "Dean, we're going to be late for the seminar..."
Hillman’s surprised expression paused, and even You Mian was startled.
Jager Hillman came forward and gave You Mian a strong hug. A smile broke out on his serious face. "I have a lot to talk to You Mian about. Please tell the seminar for me. I'm sorry I have to break the appointment."
You Mian realized that she had asked Hillman to make time for her, so she couldn’t help but whisper, “Dean, maybe we can talk about this later.”
But Hillman was determined. He immediately asked Marcia to agree on a new time with the seminar.
Outside the glass door of the art center was not a good place to talk, so everyone moved to a cafe next to the center.
The atmosphere is quiet and there are not many guests.
It was not until he sat down that the timidity in You Mian's heart was slightly suppressed, and his eyes became firm again.
Hillman stared at You Mian’s eyes for a while, and he finally realized that his old friend actually had a child.
And this child has grown up to be such an outstanding and excellent person now.
I guess he must have gone through a lot of hardships.
Hillman's serious expression disappeared, and he began to recall all the memories about Wagner in his mind.
You Mian sat by the window and listened to Hillman recalling his past with Wagner.
Marcia translated a few sentences from time to time, while Pei Huaiji sat next to You Mian with a gentle look in his eyes.
"We met in college. He was a real bad boy when he was young."
Silver-haired Hillman said this as if Wagner were alive today.
Although he was only about fifty years old, Hillman's hair was already completely silver, and he looked much older than his peers. His serious eyes were full of wrinkles, and he didn't seem to smile often.
But at this moment, all of Hillman's cold and serious expression disappeared, leaving only the little joy of talking.
"My father..." You Mian was still a little stuck when he said this. He asked, "Have you not seen him for a long time? I have very few memories of him, almost nothing. I only know that my parents met with an accident while surveying Mount Everest, and an uncle named Song brought me back."
You Mian had no intention of telling Hillman about what happened to the You family afterwards. He had already cut off all entanglements with the past and moved on. There was no need to review these past events again and again.
Upon hearing this, Hillman lowered his eyes with regret. “Yes, after graduation, due to the nature of our work, we didn’t see each other often. We had always communicated through letters.”
"Your father was a complete romantic. He rarely used mail. He communicated with his German friends by letters."
"And the last letter I received was about his marriage. Wagner didn't like to talk too much about his private affairs, so I only know that his wife's name is Yu Daijun, a very beautiful name, and I heard that she is an architect."
You Mian smiled, his brows softened, "Yes, she is my mother."
Hillman smiled, but soon frowned again and said in a much lower voice, "It was more than two years after I received the letter that I received the news of his death."
The news of death came a year late.
You Mian pursed her lips and nodded slightly.
He had looked up You Daijun's life and travels and knew that his parents had spent half their lives exploring all kinds of exotic landscapes and mountains, lakes and seas. They were true adventurers.
News from friends and relatives who only communicate through letters is always delayed.
In subsequent conversations, Hillman deliberately avoided talking about the period after Wagner lost contact, and instead picked out some interesting stories that happened to them in college and told them to You Mian.
It turned out that Wagner was well-versed in Shakespeare's poems and often went to the school garden to recite them before dawn. He is also good at making bookmarks with flower and leaf specimens, and each one is a treasured one.
He has a gentle personality and his pair of green eyes have charmed countless people.
He is romantic and brave by nature, and his favorite thing is to ride a bicycle through the streets of Berlin to explore every unknown point on the map.
It turned out that Wagner was an extremely intelligent person. He got full marks in every subject, easily won a scholarship in the graduation exam when everyone else was complaining, and then generously treated his classmates to a big meal.
Hillman said: "Although he was not from the art department, he was always willing to come to our classes. When we were assigned to dormitories, he was assigned to the same dormitory as a group of art students. Perhaps it was fate. He was born a romantic. He liked those bright oil colors and grand narrative descriptions..."
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