When the servant saw him, he immediately smiled and saluted.
"Good morning, Mr. Zhuo!"
"Morning." Zhuoran nodded lightly, "Excuse me... is Mr. Leng up? I mean, Mr. Leng Zimo."
"The husband is making breakfast for the wife in the kitchen." the servant replied.
Zhuoran thanked him and walked slowly to the kitchen door.
Leng Zimo was seen casually wearing a white shirt, standing in front of the stove with his sleeves rolled up, making breakfast seriously.
His expression was extremely focused.
Zhuoran didn't disturb him, just stood there quietly, waiting for him to finish breakfast.
Putting the prepared breakfast on the plate and tray, and putting the heated milk cup on it, Leng Zimo picked up the breakfast and walked out of the kitchen.
Seeing him, Leng Zimo stopped.
"Are you up so early?"
"Well." Zhuo Ran wanted to say something, but found that he didn't know how to speak.
"The servants are already preparing breakfast. It will be ready soon." Leng Zimo said.
"kindness!"
Zhuoran responded again.
Nodding slightly to him, Leng Zimo turned and walked towards the stairs.
Zhuoran finally came to his senses, "Uncle Leng!"
Leng Zimo turned around on the stairs, "Is something wrong?"
"I..." Zhuo Ran pursed his lips, and finally plucked up the courage to walk up to him hastily, "I... I just want to say to you..."
Leng Zimo raised his lips slightly, "Merry Christmas, right?"
Zhuoran was stunned for a moment, then suddenly understood, "I wish you... a Merry Christmas."
"Thank you." Leng Zimo smiled back at him, "From now on... the family doesn't have to be so polite."
After saying that, he turned and went upstairs.
From Zhuo Ran's expression, he had already guessed that Zhuo Ran knew the truth.
But in Leng Zimo's view, at this moment, the truth is no longer important.
Seeing Leng Zimo's figure disappearing around the corner of the stairs, Zhuoran raised his palm and wiped his face, feeling wet in his palm.
Holding breakfast in hand, Leng Zimo gently opened the bedroom door.
On the bed, Leng Xiaoqian had already sat up, hugging the quilt and opening the gift on the pillow.
In the box, there is a handmade clay doll. The doll is a little girl with a bright smile and wearing a princess dress.
The card reads: To my favorite little girl, Princess Sissi.
She raised her face and looked at the man walking in with breakfast on the table, and raised the corners of her lips lightly.
"Just in time, I want to give you a gift."
Coming over and sitting next to her, Leng Zimo carefully placed the tray on the table and turned his face to her.
"Close your eyes."
Luo Xiaoqian smiled.
He obeyed and closed his eyes.
Something was gently placed in his palm.
Leng Zimo opened his eyes, folded the gift box in his hand, and opened the lid of the small box.
In the box, there is a small clay doll, made in the image of a man. Although it is not exquisite enough, it can be seen that it has a similar look to him.
Looking at the clay doll in his hand, Leng Zimo raised the corners of his lips.
Smiling back at him, Luo Xiaoqian stretched out her palm and put the two dolls together.
Sunlight filtered in through the gaps in the curtains, reflecting the smiling faces of the two clay dolls, she and him, as they were at this moment.
Some love lasts forever, not because we have always been in love, but because we have never forgotten the past.
After carefully placing the clay doll on the table, Leng Zimo reached for the tray, then took a fork and brought the rose-shaped strawberries on the plate to her mouth.
After many years, he is still as promised back then.
