Her performance was impeccable, completely that of a gentle elder who felt happy receiving the thoughts of the younger generation.
However, Amy tilted her head, displaying obvious caution and doubt, sizing up her aunt.
Viola was sowhat "confused" by her gaze, blinked: "What’s wrong, Amy? Is there sothing on my face?"
Amy wrinkled her nose and spoke bluntly: "Auntie, your reaction today is really strange!"
"What happened?"
"Because based on your usual character, if you received a gift chosen with friends, you would definitely say sothing like... ’Hmph, no matter how good the friends are, one day they will separate for various reasons, absolutely impossible to maintain such a relationship forever,’ such overly discouraging words!"
Upon hearing this, Victor also displayed a surprised expression, clearly unable to comprehend the character of the "aunt" described by Amy.
Jeming listened on the side, his head full of black lines, this character... is indeed very much like Senior Sister Viola.
Then the "confusion" on Viola’s face disappeared instantly, replaced by a mischievous bright smile. She extended her index finger to lightly tap Amy’s forehead and said in a gentle, lodious voice:
"I won’t say those words today. Because—keeping silent will make you even more painful."
"I hope you’ll always hold this anxiety, worrying about this unanswered question endlessly. And even if one day you do experience separating from friends, I will only gently say to you at the end..."
She leaned forward slightly, her smile growing even brighter, articulating word by word:
"’Serves... you... right.’"
Amy: "..."
Victor: "!!!"
Amy, holding it in for a long ti, finally stomped her foot with a red face: "Aunt! Your character is indeed still so nasty!"
Victor also looked shocked, clearly impacted by Viola’s nasty character.
Jeming was beside them, besides showing a full face of black lines, he felt an inexplicable sense of relief with "indeed, it is so."
He even felt sowhat thankful that his identity in this false world had no deeper association with this "Senior Sister Viola," otherwise, the days before might’ve been even more "colorful" and intense.
Viola casually chatted a few more things with Amy before being called by a young man, dressed in a suit, looking sowhat nervous from not far away, seemingly because of urgent work matters.
After bidding farewell to the three, she turned elegantly, still maintaining that flawless gentle smile on her face, naturally handing her purse to the man.
The man received it, flustered, with a slight blush on his face, closely following behind her.
Amy watched the backs of the two, shook her head helplessly, and muttered quietly: "Another poor fellow..."
Jeming and Victor cast puzzled looks.
Amy sighed and explained: "My aunt... is like this at the company as well. She particularly likes using that ambiguous attitude to provoke those male colleagues. When the other party really falls for it and thinks they’re about to succeed, she’ll rcilessly reject them."
"Then... um, in her words, it’s ’enjoying the amazing painful expressions at the mont their dreams get shattered.’ She happens to be so pretty, this trick almost always works."
Jeming and Victor exchanged a glance, able to see the faint cold sweat on each other’s foreheads.
At this mont, the gentleman holding the handbag in their eyes was no different from a sacrificial lamb about to be offered.
"What a... terrifying person," Victor dryly comnted.
Jeming also secretly wiped his cold sweat, feeling this person indeed aligns with his impression of Senior Sister’s character.
The three then bid farewell at the mall entrance.
On the way back, Jeming used an excuse of wanting to take a walk, intentionally took a longer route.
He walked through different city blocks, observing the details of this world more extensively.
When he passed by a public elentary school with colorful tracks and the sound of laughter, his steps involuntarily paused again.
Through the white fence, he saw on the playground a burly man in sportswear, with a face full of kindness, playing gas with a group of seven or eight-year-old children.
The man’s movents were agile yet cautious, afraid of bumping into the kids, his booming voice filled with encouragent and laughter.
Jeming’s pupils contracted once more.
This man... he rembered him too!
He’s a Fifth Level Wizard of the Expeditionary Army!
And Jeming had a deep impression of this person, because even a glance could clearly feel the violent energy emitted from him.
Yet now, it appears that he’s a well-loved physical education teacher at this elentary school?
Looking at the satisfaction and happiness almost overflowing from his face, Jeming felt a strong sense of absurdity.
He stood in silence for a mont, eventually turned around, quickened his pace to return to that "ho."
Locking himself in his bedroom, Jeming leaned against the door, took a deep breath, and started systematically sorting the information collected today.
First and most importantly: the density of "familiar faces" is unusually high.
This city has millions of people, yet within just limited activity ranges—school commuting routes, city center comrcial district, and today’s deliberate detour—he continuously encountered Kevin (forr school bully), "chief scientist" of a high-tech company, Senior Sister Viola, and that "PE teacher."
And these are just those he could recognize from a glance.
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