Chapter 7 Smart Little Boy

Nicole let out a sigh of relief. It was only the little boy. She was in no danger. She squatted down to his level and asked him gently, "Why are you here? Where is your mother?"

He stared at her without a word.

"Where is she? Did you get lost?"

Nicole was drowning in the boy's deep eyes, dark like obsidian. Her heart was aching for him.

"Do you know your mother's phone number?" she asked. "I can call her and ask her to pick you up."

Still no reaction. The boy was playing mute.

Nicole was at a loss. She had just witnessed how stubborn the boy could be. She knew he would not say anything unless he wished to. She took him by the hand and offered, "Come to my home first."

She lived in a frugal environment. Her apartment had one bedroom and one living-room, both of which were quite simply decorated. She did not own a lot.

Leaving her bag on the floor, Nicole went to fetch a clean towel from the bathroom.

The boy's face was covered with dirt. Nicole wiped it off carefully, revealing a fair face with chubby cheeks and shiny eyes.

The boy's stomach

emitted a telling growl.

"Are you hungry?" Nicole flicked his nose softly and looked squarely into his eyes. "You can't take other people's things even when you are hungry. In the future, remember you must always pay."

The boy curled his lips dejectedly and jumped off the sofa. He fished the packing bag out of the trash can, opened it and showed it to Nicole, poking it with his stubby finger.

She immediately understood what he was trying to say when she saw the date.

It had expired.

There were a lot of expired goods behind the supermarket that needed to be sent out and thrown away. He hadn't meant to steal anything of value.

With a twinge of pity, Nicole shook her head and rubbed his forehead. "I'll cook noodles for you. You can't eat expired food or you'll have a stomachache."

She busied herself for a few minutes and put a steaming bowl of noodles in front of the child.

There were white noodles, green vegetables, red tomato chips and a poached egg.

As soon as the child smelled the food, his eyes lit up. He was about to grad the food with his fingers.

"Be careful, it's hot. You need to use chopsticks."

The boy clumsily grasped the chopsticks. He tried to get a piece of noodles, which slipped right into the bowl.

Only then did Nicole realize that he didn't know how to use chopsticks.

"Come on, let me feed you."

Learning how to use chopsticks would take too much time for Nicole to teach him now, so she pulled out a chair and fed him herself.

After taking two bites, he stared at Nicole's hand pensively. He took the chopsticks on the table and examine them with great care. His posture was perfect.

His attitude took Nicole by surprise. She put the bowl down and offered, "Try it yourself."

He picked up the noodles with chopsticks and ate them deftly. He gave Nicole a bright smile, clearly proud of himself.

"That was great! You are amazing!" Nicole patted his head fondly.

He was now beaming without restrain.

Resting her chin on her hands, Nicole carefully observed the little boy. He had delicate facial features, and his skin was fair and smooth. His eyes looked somewhat familiar, as if she had seen them somewhere.

She asked him where he lived once more, to no avail.

"Do you have your parents' phone numbers? I have to call your parents, or they will worry about you."

Pursing his lips, the boy suddenly jumped down from the sofa. He took Nicole's phone and dialed a number.

When the phone call was connected, he knocked on her phone a few times. A hoarse masculine voice rose from the other side.

"Harry?"

The boy knocked two more times on her phone before handing it to Nicole.

"Hello, sir? Are you his father?"

On the other side of the phone, Damon gave a jolt of surprise. That voice! Hoping he would not betray himself, he answered, "Yes."

The voice sounded familiar to Nicole, but she could not place it.

"Your son is at my house. Let me explain. I went to..."

Before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted. "Could you tell me your address?"

After a short pause, Nicole told him her address. The stranger had been quite curt with her.

"I'll pick him up later. What's your name, miss?"

"My surname is Qiao."

Nicole hanged up the phone, a little confused by the call. She looked at her reflection in the dark screen and thought, 'Is that all?'

The boy was ecstatic. He grinned widely at her and clapped his hands in excitement.

She put on a cartoon for him and started to wash the dishes.

Once she was done, she saw him lying down on the sofa, hugging a pillow. His sleepy little head was bobbing down and he could barely keep his eyes open.

Nicole carried him to her single bed, sat on the edge of the bed and gently patted his back. She could feel herself melting at his sight.

If her child was still alive, it would be at the same age as this little boy on her bed.

After a while, there was a knock on the door.

'It must be the father of the boy!' Nicole stood up in a hurry to open the door.

"What are you doing here?" she exclaimed.