Play Speak
The little fairy was already fast asleep on the small bed made by Nan Yan.
Nan Yan, however, found himself in a late-night bout of sentimentality. Closing his eyes, his mind wandered, all because of a recent message from his mother.
Nan's mother had said she wanted to come visit him in the next few days. In fact, she had mentioned it several times before, but each time he had managed to put her off. This time was no exception.
To be honest, Nan's father and mother had been quite good to their only child. They had provided him with a privileged living environment and excellent education. However, they hadn't invested what they considered unnecessary time and energy in him.
It was already two in the morning, and the sleepless Nan Yan's face bore a hint of weariness. To chase away the various thoughts in his mind, Nan Yan listlessly reached for his tablet, intending to watch another horror movie to distract himself.
A woman ghost in red and another in white chased people on the screen, bathed in an eerie light. The ghosts fell into a Taoist priest's trap, letting out piercing cries... But Nan Yan was exhausted, and slowly, he closed his eyes.
As the ghost and the Taoist priest continued their battle, Nan Yan dozed in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Due to his heavy drowsiness, Nan Yan couldn't react immediately. His eyelids lifted, but his gaze remained unfocused, dazed and confused.
It wasn't until his shoulder was tapped again that Nan Yan finally came to his senses. He turned his head abruptly, only to see Jiang Yan with disheveled hair and a cold gaze.
Jiang Yan stared at him blankly, then shifted her gaze to the tablet still filled with ghostly wails. Her eyes perfectly conveyed the atmosphere of "silence speaks louder than words."
Clearly, she had been sleeping soundly before being awakened by Nan Yan's antics.
Earlier, Nan Yan had been too lost in thought, immersed in memories of the past, to the point where he momentarily forgot about the little fairy's presence and had turned up the volume.
He hastily shut off the tablet, watching as Jiang Yan returned directly to bed. Suddenly, a phrase came to mind: the desire to stab someone is impossible to hide in one's eyes.
Jiang Yan wanted to stab him.
Nan Yan began to worry about how to appease her, but this time, shortly after lying down, he fell asleep.
...
The next day, having stayed up too late, Nan Yan couldn't get up. Jiang Yan glanced at this useless adult twice before going to find something to eat on her own.
To make it easier for Jiang Yan to move around, Nan Yan had built small ladders in almost every area.
Jiang Yan climbed onto the kitchen counter and found half a portion of leftover popcorn chicken. Just as she was about to eagerly devour it, she suddenly heard a knock at the door.
The lazy bug in the bedroom shuffled to open the door in his slippers. Jiang Yan thought it might be the takeout he had ordered, but suddenly she heard a cry of, "Mom!"
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Jiang Yan startled, then heard Nan Yan's deliberately raised voice, concerned she might be discovered: "Mom, why did you suddenly come? I told you I wasn't free..."
A somewhat forceful female voice responded: "When are you ever free! What are you so busy with, sleeping? Can't I come to see you?"
Nan Yan lied without batting an eye: "I have to go to the company in a bit, I'm about to leave. I'll even have breakfast there." In reality, it was one of his rare days off.
Having been out of touch for so long, Nan's mother restrained her usually uncompromising attitude somewhat, only saying: "Don't eat there, I brought you food. Go change your clothes. The soup is a bit cold, I'll heat it up for you."
Nan Yan hadn't seen Jiang Yan since he got up and strongly suspected she was in the kitchen. He hurriedly intervened: "It's not that cold, I can eat it as is. Mom, you should head back now, I'll leave right after I eat."
After a few more words, Nan's mother was finally persuaded to leave.
Nan Yan went to the kitchen to look for Jiang Yan, finally discovering her in a bowl under the stove.
Such a tiny creature, blinking her eyes as she hid in a bowl, oddly struck a chord with Nan Yan's peculiar sense of humor.
He carried the bowl out, along with the meal box his mother had brought, and placed them on the table. Jiang Yan in the bowl looked like an exquisite little dessert.
The meal box had several layers: one with perfectly fried garlic lemon chicken wings; one with sauce-covered poached shrimp; one with a refreshing lotus root stir-fry; and a portion of steamed white rice.
All were Nan Yan's favorites, clearly made by the family's housekeeper. Nan's mother, firstly, didn't have such culinary skills, and secondly, would never set foot in the kitchen. From childhood to adulthood, the person who knew Nan Yan's tastes best was the cook.
Nan Yan was easy-going; as long as there was food to eat, he didn't mind. Jiang Yan invented a new way of eating: standing in the bowl, she held the shrimp outside to eat, thus avoiding getting her clothes dirty.
She negotiated with Nan Yan: "This bowl is mine from now on!"
Nan Yan, who was tearing off meat from the chicken wings for her, glanced over and nodded: "Yours, all yours."
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