Raised by A Considerate Fighter Chapter 10

Simon walked quickly into the house, and before the door was closed, Owen followed him in.

The house was well heated, instantly dispelling the chill of the early winter night.

Simon changed into slippers at the entrance on the first floor and walked into his room without looking back. It seemed that he had no intention of saying hello to Owen.

Sister Pei heard the door close and came out of the kitchen with a cup of hot milk. She didn't expect that it was Owen who came back. She quickly put the cup of milk on the round table and went to make tea.

"Stop busying yourself." Owen waved his hand, poured himself a cup of warm water, sat down on the sofa, and said calmly, "Drinking tea so late at night, you won't be able to sleep tonight."

After saying that, he looked at the cup of hot milk, then looked at the half-closed door not far away, and asked Sister Pei about Simon's recent situation: "How have you been these days?"

"Very good." Sister Pei mentioned Xiao Simon with undisguised affection, "Very well behaved, never causing trouble for others, not picky, eats whatever is given to him, eats as much as he is allowed to, and no one needs to worry about him sleeping or getting up. I have never seen such a worry-free child. Several times he insisted on washing his own clothes and dishes, how could I dare to do that!"

Owen thought of the scene in front of the fountain just now and couldn't help but laugh: "Don't let him eat too much, especially at night, such a small child will get sick if he eats too much."

Sister Pei nodded repeatedly and sighed, "This child is so lovable. He used to have such a hard life. Now I can't help but want to give him all the good things. I'm afraid he doesn't have enough."

Owen did not comment and waited for a while. When the coldness on his body was almost gone, he stood up from the sofa and picked up the glass of milk on the table.

Sister Pei sighed and said in a panic, "Master, I'll take you there."

Owen smiled indifferently, holding the milk and walked towards Xiao Simon's door: "I'll go, just to offer you a gift."

By the way, I can also coax my child who gets angry and ignores me when I meet him after not seeing him for a week.

In the room, Simon had taken off his down jacket and was still wearing his blue sky and white clouds pattern home clothes. He was sitting on the floor, concentrating on putting together a huge jigsaw puzzle that had at least 10,000 pieces.

Hearing the knock on the door, Simon looked up towards the door, then lowered his eyes and placed the piece in his hand precisely where it should be.

Owen didn't get a response, so he stood there for another two seconds and then pushed the door open and walked into the room.

Walking around the big bed in the room, Owen saw the densely packed puzzle pieces on the floor. He was slightly startled: "...Did Samuel bring this thing?"

Simon still didn't look at him. After a while, he said "hmm".

Owen felt he had no idea where to start, so he simply sat on the floor like Simon, and sighed from the bottom of his heart: "Let an eight-year-old child put together the Qingming Shanghe Tu, Samuel is really a talent."

Simon continued to ignore him, as if all his attention was focused on the puzzle. Owen was not annoyed by being left out like this by the child. Instead, he watched Simon do the puzzle with interest for a while.

In a short moment, Owen's eyes turned somewhat incredible when he looked at Simon.

Such a complex composition and such a messy scene became even more chaotic after being divided into countless small pieces. Before placing each piece, Simon just glanced at the restoration model unfolded beside his leg. If he encountered a very difficult to identify position, he would just look at it quietly for a moment, and then start steadily and accurately.

What's even more mysterious is that during the short period of time that Owen observed, he did not put any of the pieces in the wrong place.

The room was in silence for a long time. After Simon finished a small area, he finally raised his head, glanced at Owen, and asked: "What's the matter?"

Owen came back to his senses, looking at the cold and hard little face in front of him, he just felt a little funny: "Yes, I'll bring you milk." After saying that, he handed the cup in his hand to Simon and urged, "Drink it quickly, it will get cold in a while."

Then Owen saw that the little face that was so imposing just now suddenly collapsed and became gloomy.

Owen deliberately asked: "What's wrong?"

Simon looked at the glass of milk in silence. After a while, he shook his head, then picked up the glass and tentatively put it to his mouth. This movement was extremely slow. While raising his hand, he seemed to hear the dinner in his stomach and the bowl of millet sea cucumber screaming in despair - no, don't come over here!

Owen finally couldn't help it, he took the glass of milk with his backhand, then tilted his head and laughed out loud with a very unsympathetic look.

Kobayashi Jian's hands were empty, and he was stunned as he looked at the person in front of him who was drinking the glass of milk with a smile.

Owen helped him finish a large glass of milk quickly and neatly. Looking at the stunned child, he deliberately lowered his voice and said mysteriously: "We agreed that we must keep it a secret and not let Sister Pei know. Otherwise, even I will have to drink milk with you every night."

After Simon was stunned for a moment, he understood what he meant. The corners of his mouth slowly rose, but the smile disappeared before it could expand. He shifted his gaze elsewhere and whispered softly, "No, you won't come back again."

Owen looked at him with a smile, thinking that this child was really hard to coax.

With a "tap", Owen put the cup on the bedside table, sighed, and laughed: "So just because I haven't been home these few days, you didn't even say a word to me when you saw me, and just turned around and left. Tsk, you are not a big person, but you have such a bad temper."

Simon was shocked when his thoughts were seen through, but he soon returned to normal. He lowered his eyes and said in a muffled voice, "No."

"What's not?" Owen asked, "Isn't it because I haven't come back to see you these few days? Are you still angry?"

Simon stopped talking again. His originally clear and pure eyes suddenly became more wary, just like when they first met.

Owen frowned unconsciously.

"Little boy." Owen called him, his voice becoming a little deeper. "Logically speaking, there are some truths that I shouldn't teach you. There are some things that you will naturally understand after you grow up. But as a parent, you can't bear to see your child fall and suffer grievances before you grow up."

Simon turned his head and stared at Owen in a daze, a little confused for a moment.

"The first thing I teach you today is that no matter you are an adult or a child, you must learn to bear the consequences of your choices."

Owen said calmly, "When I brought you back to the Shen family, my parents wanted to keep you by their side to take care of you, but you refused and insisted on coming back with me. What did I tell you at that time? Did you remember?"

Simon sat quietly on the ground. After a long while, he said "hmm" softly.

Owen nodded, and then said: "So, since you know that I definitely don't have that much time to take care of you, and I can't come back often to play with you and take you out like other families raise children, but you still prefer to go back to your hometown to come back with me, then I will assume that you are mentally prepared."

"Child." Owen leaned back casually, his back relaxed after it touched the bed, his whole body exuded a sense of laziness after being exhausted, and asked with a smile, "Then why are you upset now? Since you have made a choice, you must accept the result."

In Owen's opinion, he certainly did not have the time and energy to personally take care of an eight-year-old child every day. All he could do was to give him as much support as possible in life, ensure that he had enough food and clothing, grew up safely in a favorable environment, and send him to a good school. After the child was able to be independent, if they really had some kinship, they could live together as a family. If the child wanted to leave, he would naturally not force him to stay. After all, it could be regarded as making up for some of the debts between the parents.

After listening to Owen's words, Xiao Simon did not react for a long time, so long that Owen couldn't help but reflect on himself. Did he use the wrong way to reason with an eight-year-old child, or did the child not understand what he meant at all?

Just as Owen was about to explain further, Simon slowly curled up his legs, wrapped his arms around his knees, and said in a muffled voice: "No."

Owen asked: "Not what?"

Simon raised his head slowly, hesitated and struggled for a long time, and finally seemed to have made some kind of decision, and said softly: "I know you don't have time to take care of me, and I'm not angry with you because of this."

Owen raised his eyebrows slightly and asked with interest: "Why is that?"

Simon's mouth was tightly closed, and his big eyes blinked twice unnaturally. When he spoke again, his voice was as soft as a mosquito: "The toilet in the bathroom... the toilet... I, I didn't know how to use it at first... I just... I wasn't used to it..."

Now it was Owen's turn to be stunned. The smile on his face froze for a moment, and he was caught off guard by the sudden turn of events: "...and then?"

Simon's voice became even quieter, his entire face almost buried in his arms, and he took great effort to finish this sentence: "At the beginning... just a few days ago, I, I went to the toilet... I couldn't poop..."

Owen: ...

Simon clenched her hands on her knees into fists, and said intermittently: "Aunt Pei found that I had been... for several days, and then one day I suddenly had a stomachache, so Aunt Pei called your doctor. It was a female doctor who told Aunt Pei that I might have a little inflammation, and I should pay attention to my diet, and also..."

Owen had a bad feeling and asked tentatively: "What else?"

Simon was almost desperate: "He also took a small bottle... something called enema... that thing---"

Simon couldn't continue. He raised his head, his eyes were cool, but his snow-white cheeks were stained with a faint blush of embarrassment: "...You know how to use that, right?"

Owen really didn't know what to say, so he just nodded and said sincerely: "I know."

Simon: "But I won't... If you don't come back, there will only be the doctor and Aunt Pei at home, then..."

Owen silently completed the sentence in his mind: There is no other way.

"...Well, did you use it?" Owen asked very implicitly.

"How is that possible!" Simon turned his head to the side, with a rare hint of grievance and confusion in his voice: "I didn't let you... and, how can it be like this..."

Originally in the school in Simon’s hometown, boys and girls in the class were not allowed to sit at the same table. He was a little boy...even doctors and aunts were not allowed to sit at the same table.

In fact, he was not angry because he was ignored. After all, that was something he was used to. It was just that he felt ashamed and angry when he arrived in a new environment and faced a situation where he was at a loss.

If Owen was at home at that time, if Simon had a phone number for him, she could at least struggle a bit, but it just happened that she was so cruel.

Children's self-esteem is often fully reflected in some very subtle aspects. "It's okay to see a doctor when you are sick" is a truth told to adults. But for an eight-year-old child, the fact that he was almost forced to use suppositories by the family doctor under the persuasion and "escort" of his aunt can be listed as the most shameful thing that has ever happened to a child, without a doubt.

Simon rarely spoke such a long paragraph in one breath. After he finished speaking, he closed his mouth and didn't intend to speak again. Owen sat opposite him on the bed, with a complicated expression on his face for a moment, and he didn't seem to be able to think of a good words to comfort him.

It's just embarrassing.

After a long time, Owen tilted his head and coughed lightly, cleared his throat, and asked in a low voice: "Well...what happened in the end?"

"Take medicine." The child said in a cold and numb tone, "The doctor gave me a bottle of capsules and told me to take one capsule per meal... I took three capsules per meal."

Then I had a stomachache.

Owen said "Oh", thinking that this kid was really willing to do this to him. After thinking for a while, he asked again, "Then the toilet...are you used to it now?"

Simon lowered his eyes and nodded with despair.

"That's good." Owen breathed a sigh of relief, then took the notepad from the bedside, wrote down a string of numbers on it, and handed it to Simon. "This is an accident, but hiding your illness and not following doctor's orders are not good habits. Sister Pei doesn't have my phone number, so she usually contacts Samuel. Keep this number. If... ahem, I mean if, something like this happens again, just call me directly from your home landline---"

Before he finished speaking, Simon suddenly looked up, like a little adult, aggrieved and frustrated, but his voice was cold: "Will there be a next time?"

Owen immediately raised his hands to make his position clear: "It's just an analogy." Then he repeated to himself three times in his heart, this is how you raise a child, you have to coax them, you have to coax them, you have to coax them.

Simon held the note in his hand and said nothing. Owen looked at him for two seconds and suddenly laughed: "Okay, kid, you are young but you are not shy. Don't feel wronged. Do you want to give you something?"

Simon asked alertly: "What?"

Owen smiled without saying anything, stood up and walked out of the room. After a while he came back with a document in his hand. He squatted in front of Simon and handed him a few pages of paper.

Simon took it, glanced at it, and then suddenly looked up, his eyes full of surprise.

One was a stamped foster care agreement, and the other was an admission letter from a private elementary school.

Owen said gently: "All the formalities have been completed. The agreement clearly states that you will be fostered at my parents' house. But it doesn't matter. If you are still willing to live with me, you can still stay here. Just don't be angry because I don't have time to take care of you."

Simon was stunned for a while and then shook his head lightly.

"Then live here peacefully." Owen smiled, and then said earnestly, "My child, before you are truly independent, you won't go back to your original home. There is nothing to miss, right? But when you grow up, it is your freedom to do whatever you want. If you want to go home and recognize your relatives, you can do it. I don't care about you, and my parents won't interfere."

Life is too long and full of uncertainties. Who knows what the future will be like? What is happening now should be decided now, and what is happening in the future should be left to fate.

Simon's eyes fell on the paper in his hand again, neither agreeing nor objecting.

Owen flicked at the admission notice in his hand and said, "I've found a school. There are too many children in the public school, and the transfer procedures are a bit complicated, so I finally chose a very good private school that is close to here. You can register on Monday. I will send a driver to pick you up and drop you off at that time."

The surprise came too suddenly. Simon opened his mouth but couldn't say anything.

Owen found his hesitant expression quite interesting, as if only at this moment did the child's face reveal a hint of the childishness and ignorance that should belong to this age. He raised his hand and wanted to rub the top of the child's head, but suddenly remembered the child's taboo, so he smiled and shook his head, and put his hand down again.

After a long while, Simon stammered, "Thank you."

"It's the right thing to do, don't talk about it." Owen looked at him and suddenly smiled, "But if you really want to thank me..."

Simon: "Hmm?"

"Nephew." Owen's eyes curved suddenly, and he said, "How about you call me uncle?"