Chapter 287
"I didn’t say it annoyed me." She spoke in the tone of an irritated young girl.
Old Master Mo said nothing, taking a seat in the wicker chair under the eaves. It was very comfortable to sit in during the summer; come winter, Mo Yan would place a woolen blanket on it so one could sit without catching a chill and enjoy some sunlight. Quite nice, really. The old man sat there, hands propping his walking stick, squinting up at the sky for a moment before turning his gaze to his granddaughter squatting on the steps. There were only three steps, so the distance between them was quite close.
After retiring, Old Master Mo didn’t live in the Central South Sea but moved into a quadrangle courtyard home here instead, known to only a handful of people and bodyguards. Although Mo Yan and Mo Yu were of similar age, they weren’t often seen together. No one knew they were birthed by the same mother, let alone twin sisters, with such a difference in character. Mo Yu was lively and outgoing, enjoying her time outdoors and rarely visiting; Mo Yan was quite the opposite. Despite being busy, she would take the time to sit here more often, checking in on her grandfather and the large wolfhound in the courtyard.
The bond between granddaughter and grandfather was something beyond the reach of others.
"Are you in trouble?"
Mo Yan knew. Nothing could escape the old man’s keen observation; a mere squint, and he could see right through a person. He could chat and laugh with a few old generals, not to mention deal with this adolescent girl. No matter how impressive she might appear to others, in the elder’s eyes, a child was still a child. Big talk or not, a child needed guidance.
Mo Yan remained silent, still looking down at the large wolfhound lying on the ground. She tried to disguise her inner thoughts with this silence, even though this old man easily poked through it every time.
No need to say it; she was definitely in trouble. The walking stick shifted to the old man’s right hand, his left tapping on the armrest of the wicker chair, fingers drumming continuously like raindrops falling from the eaves. This was his habitual movement when pondering or considering matters, a means to engage his brain in logical thinking, like a clockwork mechanism. There was not a moment’s delay.