Lingyao once said that he didn't remember anything before he was three years old. If Yinming could help him find that memory, the male lead's affection for him would definitely skyrocket, right?
And now... here it comes, here it comes!
"This is your third birthday gift, it's... a calligraphy brush."
As Yin Ming finished speaking, Ling Yao paused in her hand as she accepted the gift, as if she inexplicably felt the weight of the calligraphy brush, and even her breathing became rapid.
Yin Ming knew that the male protagonist, being as clever as he was, would definitely notice something was amiss. After all, everything Yin Ming had given him before was suitable for his current use, but now he was suddenly giving him a pen. Such behavior seemed particularly strange to someone who couldn't read.
Yin Ming didn't intend to keep anyone in suspense and directly confirmed Ling Yao's thoughts: "This gift was given to you by A Yao's grandmother."
Even though Lingyao had sensed something was wrong beforehand, he never expected Yin Ming to say such a thing.
“...Grandma?” he murmured the unfamiliar word, momentarily lost in confusion.
No matter how hard he tried to recall it, he could never glean any emotion from that word.
"Well... actually, I had someone remake this calligraphy brush for me. The original one is gone. The old man told me that on Ayao's third birthday, his grandmother gave him this as a gift."
"Grandma said, 'Education is the only way out for us poor people. My Yao'er is intelligent and will surely succeed in his studies. When Yao'er has the ability to protect himself, Grandma can die in peace.'"
What Yin Ming didn't mention was that Lingyao's grandmother was already bedridden at the time, and the calligraphy brush was something she had picked up by the roadside.
She knew she had no future and nothing to leave to Lingyao. Dragging her dying body, she could only place her hopes in beautiful fantasies.
This is a dying grandmother's most sincere yet powerless wish for her grandson.
The brush in Lingyao's hand seemed to become scorching hot in an instant, and his hand holding the brush trembled slightly. It was the love from a blood relative who had turned to dust, who was now unreachable, who should have been familiar but was forced to become a stranger.
Lingyao lowered his eyes and remained silent. Yin Ming glanced at him cautiously. The male lead didn't seem to feel anything. It seemed he would have to step up his efforts.
Yin Ming opened his palm, revealing a pastry wrapped in oil paper, and handed it to Ling Yao.
"On his second birthday, Ayao said he wanted to eat pastries, so his grandmother used the few ingredients available at home to make him a osmanthus cake."
The word "few" is a bit of an exaggeration; I'm only saying this because I don't want Lingyao to feel too bad.
The truth is that his family only had a little bit of pasta left, so Lingyao's grandmother kneaded it all together, steamed it, and then picked some osmanthus flowers from the osmanthus tree at the village entrance and sprinkled them on top. That's how it could be barely called osmanthus cake.
Although this osmanthus cake was the most crudely made, it was the best that Grandma could give him at the time.
"This longevity lock is a family heirloom given to Ayao by his grandmother on his first birthday. Of course, I also had it remade."
The original longevity lock was indeed a family heirloom of the Lingyao family, but it was later lost.
Yin Ming remembered that in the original novel, when the male protagonist first started wandering, he was bullied by another group of little beggars, and those children took everything they could from him.
That lock was most likely lost around that time.
However, Yin Ming did not intend to say this aloud—he couldn't even protect the only memento left by his loved ones; if the male lead knew, he would be devastated.
Lingyao has already suffered enough; now he only needs to know the good parts.
Yin Ming's initial intention was indeed to gain favor, but he also hoped that these memories could awaken the happiness that was dormant deep in Ling Yao's soul.
These two are not contradictory.
"And this anklet was a birth gift from Ayao's parents."
A flash of light appeared in Yin Ming's hand, and a small anklet appeared in his palm.
It was a copper anklet with a pair of small bells hanging from it; a gentle shake would produce a clear, ringing sound.
Isn't this a trump card? This was given to the male protagonist by his parents, who were said to have died at birth.
Although Lingyao couldn't remember his parents, he had already started to have memories when he was driven out of the village, and he must have remembered those vile and offensive insults.
Yin Ming shook his head secretly, feeling a little uneasy.
The male protagonist must have been wondering at that time, since he hadn't done anything wrong, yet he was considered a heinous villain by others.
Lingyao silently reached out and took the anklet, still without saying a word.
Yin Ming scratched his head in confusion. This was not what he had imagined. Even if the male lead did not cry his heart out, he should at least give some emotional feedback. Why was he so calm?
Was this kind of stimulation not enough? Yin Ming raised an eyebrow. No problem, he still had his last trump card!
“I remade these four gifts for Ayao to tell you that, Ayao, whether in the past or the future, there will always be someone who loves you.”
"Also, wasn't Ah Yao very curious about his first birthday celebration? That old man also told me about it."
Remembering something, Yin Ming's lips curved into a gentle smile.
"The old man said that he was there at the time and saw little Ayao sitting among a pile of items for the first birthday celebration. His dark eyes were rolling around, as if he wanted to grab everything in front of him."
"Ah Yao first grasped a small wooden sword, then grabbed a coin, and reached out to pick up the abacus as well."
"At this point, Ayao's two little hands were already full, but Ayao still wanted to take other things. What should we do?"
Lingyao finally reacted. He slowly raised his eyes, his movements slightly sluggish and clumsy, but he listened very attentively to Yin Ming's narration, as if he was eager to hear the rest of the story.
Yin Ming chuckled and reached out to rub Ling Yao's head.
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