Chapter 71
In April in London, the air still lingers with the chill of spring, but in the manor courtyard, the early cherry blossoms are already impatiently adorning the branches, dropping tiny pink snowflakes.
Under Atobe's strict and tireless care, my body was finally freed from most of the constraints. Except for the "no use of force" which was repeatedly emphasized by my seventh brother and strictly enforced by Atobe, my daily activities were no longer a problem.
The countdown to the college entrance examination was like a sword hanging over my head, urging me to return to China for the final sprint.
Brother Qi personally flew to London to "escort". In name, he was seeing someone off at the airport, but in reality, it was more like a final handover inspection for a "key guardian" who was about to leave his sight.
In the airport VIP lounge, the smell of gunpowder was stronger than the smell of aviation fuel outside.
"What color is this?" Brother Seventh twirled the corner of my cashmere sweater with two fingers in disdain. "It's so gray, it makes my sister look old! She looks better in bright colors!"
His sharp eyes swept over Atobe who was standing quietly beside him, as if he had forced this clothes on me.
Atobe was holding a coffee cup, his expression calm, as if he didn't hear anything.
I was about to speak when Brother Qi's attention shifted back to my hair: "Who gave you this hairstyle? It looks so old-fashioned! It lacks any vitality!"
He frowned and looked critically at my hair, which was simply tied up in a bun for the convenience of long-distance flights.
I was helpless: "...I combed it myself."
Brother Seven choked and immediately turned his attention to the enormous suitcase next to him, which was labeled "fragile" by various airlines. He kicked it gently with his toes. "What's in it? It's so big! Are you trying to collapse the luggage compartment? Don't you know there are weight restrictions on airplanes?"
I finally couldn't help but hold my forehead and said, "Brother, those are all gifts for my family!"
"Uncle's favorite Scotch whisky, aunt's bone china tea set, fifth brother's cigars, sixth brother's astrologer... and toys and chocolates for nephews and nieces! All carefully prepared by Jingwu and his parents."
I deliberately emphasized the word "meticulous".
The seventh brother snorted heavily, crossed his arms, raised his chin high, and glanced at Atobe: "Showing your courtesy."
The tone sounded as if what the other party gave was not a token of affection, but a time bomb.
Atobe still had no expression. He just put down the coffee cup and gave me a reassuring smile, indicating that he didn't care.
While Seventh Brother was in the bathroom, I quietly took Tebe's hand and lowered my voice: "Seventh Brother... is always like this, don't be angry. He is..."
I don’t know how to describe Brother Seven’s awkward behavior of protecting his child.
Atobe took my hand in his own, a warm smile spreading across his eyes. He leaned over slightly and whispered in my ear, a voice only the two of us could hear: "I won't be angry. Seventh Brother..." He paused, his tone sincere and firm, "is a very good person."
The boarding prompt came from the radio, clear and cold.
Seventh Brother came back with a dark face and stood beside me like a door god. The meaning of urging me was self-evident.
The reluctance to leave instantly overwhelmed everything.
The night before leaving, Atobe held me in the same way and we looked at the night sky on the terrace for a long time.
His strong arms held me tightly, as if he wanted to rub me into his bones and blood and carry me away. His chin rested on the top of my head, and he kissed my forehead tenderly, over and over again, with a hot and wet feeling.
"Xiao Yin," his voice was low but clear in the silent night, "I returned to Japan after graduating from high school."
"I'm going to the University of Tokyo." He paused, as if describing a future that was within reach. "The time difference is only one hour."
An hour's time difference means an almost negligible gap between day and night, which means more possibilities.
He lowered his head, resting his forehead against mine. His eyes were startlingly bright in the night, churning with intense emotions and a tacit expectation: "When you finish the college entrance examination... you will be eighteen years old."
He didn't say it explicitly, but the rule about "eighteen years old" was like an invisible thread wrapped between us, carrying a heart-pounding promise and weight.
At that moment, standing at the boarding gate, he gave me one last, hard hug, so strong that I stumbled slightly, and then quickly let go. He stepped back, his face regaining its usual elegance, but the reluctance to leave him was so thick in his eyes that it couldn't be dispelled.
"Go ahead." His voice was a little tight.
Brother Seven made an impatient "tsk" sound and practically half-pushed me toward the jet bridge, still muttering, "What are you dawdling for? Planes don't wait!"
I looked back every few steps until my figure disappeared around the corner of the covered bridge.
The last thing I saw through the huge glass curtain wall was Brother Qi standing in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, his hands in the pockets of his black windbreaker, his head tilted up, his eyes closely following my plane as it began to taxi towards the runway.
His face, always brimming with irritability and impatience, now revealed an undisguised, heavy feeling of reluctance. His lips moved as he muttered to himself, "...next time I go back, I'll tell my uncle to leave this mess in England to Old Eight..."
The plane accelerated, its engines roaring as it lifted off the ground, rapidly shrinking the gloomy London sky and the figures on the ground.
On the ground, Keigo Atobe was still standing there, looking up at the silver wing carrying his beloved girl soaring into the sky, without moving for a long time.
Long Yao withdrew his gaze and turned around, just in time to see Atobe looking at his wife like a stone.
He curled his lips in disgust, snorting coldly, his tone as harsh as if he were chasing away a stray dog: "Still standing here like a statue? Get out of here!"
After saying that, he strode out of the airport without looking back.
Atobe was stunned for a moment, then reacted and immediately followed with his long legs.
The two walked towards the parking lot, one in front of the other, and the atmosphere was strangely harmonious.
Long Yao's car was a black Land Rover Defender with rugged lines. He opened the door and got into the driver's seat, while Jibe naturally opened the passenger door and got in.
The car drove smoothly out of the airport highway. Brother Qi held the steering wheel with one hand and frantically adjusted the radio with the other. After trying several stations, he was never satisfied and simply turned it off.
Silence spread in the car, with only the low hum of the engine.
"Regarding the bidding proposal for the land in Singapore," Brother Qi suddenly spoke, his eyes fixed on the front, his tone stiff and businesslike. "The cost accounting section on page three of the proposal you sent yesterday doesn't have strong supporting data."
"Labor and material prices in Southeast Asia fluctuate more than you expected. According to your calculation, the profit margin will be squeezed too thin, and the risk will be uncontrollable."
Atobe immediately pulled out a tablet from his briefcase and opened a document. "Yes, I've been thinking about this as well. The quotes from several capable local contractors are on the high side, and I'm in touch with the Vietnamese side..."
In this narrow carriage, the two of them discussed the complex business layout, market risks and response strategies.
Long Yao's tone was still not very good, with a bit of arrogance of a senior teaching a junior, but the questions he asked were often to the point, and the suggestions he gave also went straight to the core issues.
Atobe listened attentively and responded quickly and accurately, obviously already accustomed to this "teaching" mode.
The discussion ended, and the car happened to stop at a red light. Seventh Brother's fingers tapped unconsciously on the steering wheel, and he glanced at Atobe with a complicated, scrutinizing look.
He cleared his throat, as if to hide something, and said in an extremely awkward tone, as if he had suffered a great loss:
"Humph, I've taught you so much... Don't think I taught you for nothing!"
He looked ahead again, the green light came on, he suddenly stepped on the accelerator, the car rushed out, the voice also rose a few notes, with a sense of self-righteous "calculation",
"You little brat, remember this! Make more money! Make a lot of money! Our Xiaojiu is precious!"
“Eat the best! Use the best! Wear the best!”
"In the future, the betrothal gifts...will definitely be generous! Lots of them! Do you understand?!"
Atobe's fingers gripping the tablet tightened slightly, a flicker of surprise flashed across his eyes, then was drowned out by a surge of laughter.
He looked at Seventh Brother's awkward yet serious profile, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up, eventually turning into an extremely solemn and absolutely confident response:
"Ah. I understand."
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