After seventeen years, the first words her biological mother said to her were: "Hey, it's raining outside, isn't it? Stand still, let Little Miller bring you a pair of slippers."
Little Miller is a servant of the Ginger Family.
She looked down at the canvas shoes on her feet. The shoes were brand new, only lightly splashed with rainwater, hardly any at all. She stood rooted outside the magnificent hall of the Ginger Family, unsure what to do. She looked up and met eyes with two people in the living room who showed signs of resistance.
The girl wore a sky-blue knee-length skirt, her lips pressed tightly together. This was Zuri Ginger, who had taken her place in enjoying life for seventeen years.
The boy wore a loose T-shirt, looking agitated. He was her biological brother, Bob Ginger, whom she'd never met before.
The two sat side by side, like a princess and a little prince living in a castle.
She had abruptly broken into their world...
Mia Ginger idly mused, her expression indifferent, simply feeling that perhaps she shouldn't have returned, shouldn't have nodded to the Jackson Family, agreeing to Aiden Jiang just because she was holding onto a grudge.
Hurting others and herself.
Her expression was calm, leaving Charlotte Chester unsure what else to say. She had lost this daughter and nearly collapsed; it was the adopted Zuri Ginger who healed her.
Zuri was two years older than Mia Ginger, sharing the same birthday, adopted when already over four years old.
She was sensible and well-behaved since childhood.
Charlotte let out a silent sigh in her heart. After a long silence, the car stopped outside the Jackson Family's large mansion, surrounded by a sea of luscious, varied greens that soothed the heart and mind.
The driver stopped the car, and with the attentive guidance of the Jackson Family's bodyguards, they went inside.
It was Mia Ginger's first visit. She did not watch around, only caught glimpses of the various trees pruned beautifully on either side, the large fountain gushing and splashing, the water reflecting light at a glance.
The steps were long and straight. Looking up, the mansion loomed majestically like a palace.
High above, unattainable.
She slightly lowered her head, looked at the five-centimeter wedge shoes on her feet, and climbed the steps silently as Charlotte whispered beside her.
She caught a phrase: "Built in the early 20th century."
The Jackson Family is a prestigious clan, prosperous for over a hundred years, each generation producing outstanding talents. The current head, Old Master Jackson, is nearly a hundred years old, his contributions needless to say.
Mia Ginger thought all the way, slightly nervous, as a voice reached her ears: "We've arrived."
She looked up. An elderly man in a white soft silk shirt hurriedly came out, placing a hand on her shoulder and gazing left and right, warmly saying, "Mia, right?"
His eyes were profoundly deep yet warm and peaceful, having weathered the changes of time.
His tone was affectionate and lively, full of care and pity, leaving her momentarily speechless.
"Old Master Jackson."
"This is Grandpa Jackson."
Aiden Jiang and Charlotte quickly reminded her.
"Grandpa Jackson." Mia Ginger pressed her lips, her eyes slightly curved, gently calling.
"Good child." Old Master Jackson reached out to pat her thin shoulder, personally led her into the living room, and sighed as they walked, "When I met you back then, you were only this tall," he gestured a short distance with his hand to the side, laughing heartily, "In the blink of an eye, you've grown so tall!"
As Old Master Jackson spoke in an upbeat tone, Mia stood beside him, unexpectedly feeling a hard-to-express bitterness in her heart, quietly saying, "Can I go to the bathroom?"
She felt that if she heard another word, tears would overflow.
"This child!" Charlotte Chester awkwardly chuckled and gently scolded.
"It's okay, it's okay," Old Master Jackson glanced at her and quickly addressed the servant nearby, "Take Girl Mia to the restroom."
With the servant's guidance, Mia Ginger went all the way, washed her face inside, calming her emotions a bit.
Upon exiting, her eyes landed on the lush garden outside the floor-to-ceiling window.
Someone was leaning on a wicker chair.
The distance was a bit far, and he was turned to the side, so she couldn't see his face, but her gaze fell on the white edge of clothing obscured by swaying flower branches and couldn't look away.
A white shirt; in her memory, only one person had worn such a clean shirt.
His reclined sitting posture was very leisurely, his wrist slightly raised, holding a book, his head slightly lowered, seemingly reading under the tree shade. The hand holding the book was very attractive, slender and fair, slightly translucent in the sunlight, its smooth lines making it appear as if without joints, both elegant and refined.
It reminded her of the hand wielding a flying knife in a martial arts novel.
A knife?
Mia Ginger suddenly thought of the person she was betrothed to as a child, the third son of the Jackson Family, seemingly a doctor.
Is it him?