"Of course, I don't mean to steal you away," said Nianchu, "but you and Uncle Yao Qing hold different places in my heart."
Before Yao Qing could react to his words, Nianchu added, "I still remember when I was a child; he brought you to my house. At that time, I was under a lot of pressure from my studies, and my parents wouldn't let me have friends, thinking it was a waste of time. My childhood was very barren. But the arrival of you and Uncle Yao Qing made me feel happy, excited—it was like a light in the darkness, though that might sound a bit exaggerated."
Nianchu slightly embarrassed, pushed up his glasses, his eyes and earlobes appearing to redden.
Yao Qing glanced at him, and Nianchu coughed awkwardly.
She was silent for a few seconds, then gave a silent laugh.
"So that was it. I used to think you were just unsociable, a bookworm who only had eyes for books. I didn't realize it was like this."
Nianchu nodded, "But I really am a bookworm."
