Lunch break.
Jesse Rowan left the Cheney Family, and Sylvan Cheney poured himself a cup of hot water in his office.
Having drunk so alcohol and smoked quite a bit earlier, his stomach felt uncomfortable.
Sunlight stread through the glass window, sparkling on the floor and weaving an intricate tapestry.
Sylvan Cheney reached out to press a button, and the curtains closed.
Instantly, the office plunged into darkness and silence, with everything around becoming quiet.
Sylvan Cheney took off his suit jacket and walked towards the lounge.
The weather was good today, and he planned to take so ti in the afternoon to visit the cetery.
Leaning on the bed, Sylvan Cheney wasn’t really sleepy; he simply wanted to rest for a while. Just as he placed his phone on the table, he suddenly thought of Chale Cheney, far away in Lonton.
A man’s thoughts aren’t as detailed as a woman’s, but he missed his own child deeply.
Realizing it had been a while since he last called Chale Cheney, Sylvan dialed his number.
Soon, a sweet voice sounded from the other end: "Hello."
"..." Sylvan Cheney rubbed his forehead, huh? Won’t even call his dad?
"What are you doing?" Sylvan asked, with warmth in his tone.
"Not much, just reading a book."
"What book?"
"Robinson Crusoe," Chale Cheney said, holding the phone while obediently flipping through the pages.
"Can you understand it?"
"Yes, it has pinyin and pictures. If I don’t understand, I can ask Grandmaster or the uncles and aunties here." Anyway, you wouldn’t be able to teach .
"Have you been eating well lately? Are you being picky with food?"
"No."
"Have you grown taller?"
"I haven’t gotten taller." The little fellow pouted.
"How co you haven’t grown taller?" Sylvan Cheney was concerned.
"Because no one cares about ."
"..." Sylvan’s lips curved slightly, "Want to go to kindergarten?"
"Don’t want to go anymore."
"Why don’t you want to go anymore?" Sylvan’s concern deepened.
"Because I can go straight to elentary school," Chale Cheney pouted again, wondering if it’s suitable for soone as smart as him to still attend kindergarten.
"Makes sense," Sylvan nodded, "I’ll send you to elentary school in the second half of the year. Prepare well. Would you like to be with dad? If you want, dad will bring you back from Lonton."
Chale’s eyes brightened, but he still pretended to be indifferent, resting his chin nonchalantly: "Who wants to be with you? I don’t like you."
"Then who do you like? Hmm?"
"Don’t like anyone, especially not you."
"..." Sylvan felt quite defeated, "Oh, if you don’t like it, then let’s forget it."
Sylvan understands his son’s temperant very well, and sure enough, as soon as he said this, the little guy hurriedly grabbed the phone, blinking seriously: "It’s not impossible. It’s negotiable."
Sylvan’s lips curved upwards in a smile: "Alright then, call and let’s see if we can negotiate."
Chale reluctantly agreed, but deep down he still missed Elder Cheney.
Besides, today Elder Cheney was the one who took the initiative to call him, so... he could give Elder Cheney a little face.
"Dad." Chale thought for a mont and called out sweetly.
Sylvan chuckled, closed his eyes, with his mind full of the little guy’s image.
"So it’s settled then, I’ll bring you to school in the second half of the year. The school has to be beautiful and the teachers must be kind."
"That’s quite a lot of demands."
"I’m picky just like Dad."
Sylvan: "..."
When he was that age, he certainly wasn’t that picky.
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