Chapter 119: Admiring

Actually, most people have no concrete concept of their own appearance; in other words, they don't know what they look like.

Usually they find out through a mirror or the selfie mode on their phone—that the person in the image is themselves.

Being told that he resembles someone was something Pei Du had never experienced before—and that someone was his daughter.

The man was momentarily stunned.

He couldn't help recalling the boy's face.

He and that boy look……very alike, don't they?

It's already late.

Pei Muyin returned to the bedroom, after washing up the girl hugged her stuffed bear, poked her head out from the door, and whispered, "Daddy, good night."

"Good night."

Pei Du curled the corner of his mouth at the same time, his gaze swept over the bear in his daughter's arms, then he paused slightly.

He had bought the entire series of stuffed bears for his daughter, familiar with every style; as part of that toy brand's behind-the-scenes service, emails and samples were sent to him.

But the bear his daughter held, he had never seen before.

"Is Muyin's stuffed bear the newest model just released?"

Pei Du suspected he'd been too busy and missed the brand's notice, but he heard his daughter deny it: "No, it's already the one I bought last year."

Pei Muyin recalled her father saying he had privately sent her many stuffed bears before; understanding his doubt, she smiled and said:

"Are you wondering about the bear's outfit, Daddy? Its little floral dress and the pink hair clip on its head were given to me by my sister; she also gave me lots of other clothes and hair clips for the bears."

During the time they lived downstairs, Shu Shu not only prepared things for the girl, she also got the stuffed bear the girl likes to hug while sleeping.

She specifically found a private toy designer, made many interchangeable small accessories according to the bear's size, just like the Barbie dolls used for dress‑up play—tiny beds, little round tables, small flower chairs, and so on.

"Very pretty."

Pei Du spoke lightly, his eyes gradually filling with thought; Shu Shu's kindness to the daughter is truly meticulous and attentive—this kindness has probably long surpassed ordinary friendship and even reached……fondness?

But exactly to what extent it has surpassed, he has no clue.

…

Pei Muyin had not never lived in 1702, but back then she was alone; now she has her father.

A warm lamp lit the bedside table; Pei Muyin lay flat on the princess bed, her phone—just after she and Shu Shu and Shu Lingchen had said good night and turned off the screen—rested beside her pillow; hearing the faint sound of slippers scraping the floor outside the door, she finally felt the real sense of starting life anew with her father.

This year must be my luckiest yet—I've not only met my sister and brother, but also my father.

She feels she is the happiest person in the world.

Until she fell asleep, Pei Muyin's face bore a faint smile; this night was destined to be a good sleep.

Morning.

Pei Muyin changed into her uniform, feeling refreshed as she left the bedroom, passed through the hallway, and saw through the kitchen's sliding glass door her father's back, dressed in home clothes with a gray apron.

—It was a scene she hadn't seen since she was four.

"Muyin, morning."

Hearing the movement, Pei Du turned around and looked at his daughter.

"Daddy, morning."

Pei Du gestured for his daughter to sit at the table and wait a moment.

Breakfast, he made sandwiches.

The toast was sliced open, revealing a hearty filling of cheese chicken cutlet and fried egg, with a sprinkle of sesame on top, making one's appetite surge.

Pei Muyin took a bite.

"Can you eat it?" Pei Du pushed a cup of hot milk toward her hand and looked up to ask.

"Mm‑hm, delicious, super delicious." The girl's fair cheeks puffed out.

Super, delicious.

That day the daughter had said Shu Shu's sandwiches were super delicious; now he also got the two words "super" from her.

Pei Du imperceptibly twitched the corner of his mouth, then he also picked up the sandwich in front of him.

Father and daughter ate this warm breakfast in silence.

Probably also wanting to grow closer to his daughter, and because his amnesia had made him forget many things, wanting to understand her better, after a moment Pei Du softly asked:

"Is Muyin's name… something I chose?"

Pei Muyin nodded: "Yeah, Daddy picked it."

"Sorry, I still can't recall." Pei Du then curiously asked: "Could you tell me what Muyin's name means?"

—Pei, Mu, Yin.

Pei Du repeated those three characters slowly in his mind, while contemplating beautiful words or phrases related to their meaning.

"Yes, there is." Pei Muyin also knew her father hadn't regained his memory, so she deliberately put down her sandwich, her expression quite solemn, and told her father:

"Yin is Mom's name, and Mu means 'to like.'"

…

Pei Muyin has always known the meaning of her name.

Because her father told her.

It was during the first week of Little Muyin's kindergarten; she looked as pure and lovely as jade and snow, especially popular among the other kids, so a classmate asked her: "Muyin Muyin, why are you called Muyin?"

That day, Little Muyin held onto that question, waiting for her father to pick her up after school; she sat in the back child seat, innocently asking her father why she was called Muyin.

Pei Du didn't brush off his daughter's question just because she was young; the man paused a moment, his distinct‑knuckled hands steady on the steering wheel, and spoke low yet solemnly:

"Yin, Yinyin is Mom's name, and Mu means 'to like'; that's the origin of the name Muyin."

Upon hearing that, Little Muyin opened her clear, pretty peach‑blossom eyes, her pupils flashing with surprised brightness, and cleverly reasoned: "Then Pei is Daddy's name, so the meaning of Muyin is that Daddy likes Mommy; Daddy, am I right?"

"Mm, Muyin is quite right."

Daddy… loves Mommy.

In the man's voice, as pleasant as jade stones striking, lay an unknown, tender warmth.

…

Do you like it?

Pei Du almost instantly recalled the 'her' who constantly appeared in his dreams.

Despite his amnesia, Pei Du had never doubted that 'she' was the mother of his daughter.

'She' appeared so often in his dreams that he had a strong sixth sense that, apart from 'she', no one else was possible.

Just entertaining the thought of someone else made Pei Du frown ahead of time; this rejecting reaction seemed to clearly tell his amnesiac self that it couldn't be anyone else.

So, Yin, is that 'her' name?

…

That night.

Pei Du, as expected, dreamed of 'her' again.

She still couldn't be seen or heard, and still ignored him.

Pei Du tirelessly asked who she was, and then for the first time he shouted her name: 'Yin… Yinyin?'