Ever since Dabao had started talking, Ji Huan had spent the whole winter correcting his pronunciation and pacing. Her efforts had paid off; he spoke much more smoothly now, no longer sputtering out one word at a time.
"Um… it's right next to our house. Not far. I'll be back in a little bit."
Ever since Dabao came to the dilapidated shack to live with Ji Huan, he hadn't once mentioned going back to see the place he used to share with his grandfather.
It was very close, right on the path to the Hu Family's home.
Every time they passed it, Dabao would stare straight ahead, as if it weren't his former home at all, but a place completely foreign to him.
'It was hard to tell if he was traumatized or if he had genuinely forgotten.'
'A five-year-old should be old enough to remember things...'
But Ji Huan, recalling the state she had found Dabao in, didn't want him to be reminded of the scene and dredge up memories of that tragedy.
