The thing Xu Qiguang was most satisfied with about his Changqing was her obedience. The child loved to listen to what he, her father, had to say. Her willingness to reflect on his words without question was a rare and precious trait.
After dinner.
Watching his Changqing methodically clear the table, help her younger siblings read and write, and then, after helping her mother put them to bed, silently sit on the armchair with a cup, closing her eyes to rest—Xu Qiguang knew she was about to start thinking quietly on her own.
'This is very good. It means my efforts as a father, sharing all my life experiences, lessons, and insights, haven't been in vain.' But to be honest, this wasn't necessarily a good thing.
She had been sensible since she was a child, so her heart must be filled with countless sorrows and grievances. He had always tried to avoid burdening her with more negative emotions.
