As it turned out, Xixi might have the potential for physical strength, but she would never become a tomboy—after all, she still had a tender girl's heart.
Under the relentless questioning from her dad and mom, Xixi had to make a final choice.
The little girl studied her right hand and left hand for a long time, glancing at the beautiful silver bracelet on one side and the wooden sword on the other—at the patterns on its blade—before finally sighing like a little adult and saying, "It's so hard to choose, but I still like Mommy's gift better."
After saying that, the little girl hugged the wooden sword nervously, looking up at her dad with big, pitiful eyes, and asked weakly, "Daddy, can Xixi still keep it? Xixi really likes it too!"
Xixi didn't quite understand; she thought the choice meant she could only keep one.
"Yay, I win!" Murphy had already raised her arms in triumph, cheering. She ran over happily, picked Xixi up, and gave her a big kiss, saying, "Of course you can keep it. I believe your daddy isn't that petty!"
Yang Yi still looked incredulous. He had lost? How was that possible? How could Xixi not like the wooden sword? Having a sword of one's own was a dream every child should have!
Without a dream, what difference was there from a salted fish?
"Xixi just said she 'really likes' my gift too, which is a step above your 'still like'!" Yang Yi argued stubbornly, trying to push back.
But Murphy didn't take the bait. Instead, she lifted her chin proudly and snorted, "A bet's a bet, no cheating!"
Yang Yi let out a long sigh, steeled himself, and said, "Fine, a bet's a bet. Tell me, what do you want me to do?"
Murphy set Xixi down. The little girl, thrilled that her wooden sword hadn't been confiscated, quickly scurried off to examine it again, making sure to keep it out of her dad's sight in case he changed his mind!
"What should I have you do?" Murphy sat on the sofa, propping her chin on her hands resting on the table, her slender fingers lightly tapping her smooth, jade-like cheek. Then she suddenly stopped, blinked playfully, and said, "Haven't thought of it yet. I'll keep it in mind and tell you when I do!"
"..."
That birthday, Xixi was overjoyed. Not only were her dad and mom there with her, not only was there such a beautiful setup and such a pretty, delicious cake, but Xixi also received gifts—she loved both from her parents, and later, when her mom brought out a gift from Auntie Mo Xiaojuan, Xixi loved that too.
"If only every day could be a birthday like this! Oh, why didn't I make that my birthday wish?" The little one drifted off to sleep with a sweet smile.
After her daughter fell asleep, Murphy came out of the bedroom. There had been too many "surprises" today, and she had a lot she wanted to talk to Yang Yi about.
Yang Yi wasn't in the study but on the balcony. When Murphy had taken Xixi upstairs to bathe, he had stayed behind to clean up the mess. With his obsessive-compulsive tendencies, he had only just finished tidying up, taken a shower, and then come to the balcony to enjoy the breeze and the moonlight.
"By the way, the moon looks pretty good tonight," Yang Yi said softly without turning around as he heard Murphy approach.
Murphy sat down on the lounge chair next to Yang Yi. Now that it was just the two of them, she became a bit more reserved, sitting with a very ladylike posture.
Fortunately, she didn't put on that cold, distant expression like before. She smiled silently and said, "Is this a pick-up line?"
"No way, this is called sharing!" Yang Yi quickly denied it.
"Today, the cake you made—why did Xixi like it so much?" Murphy asked the question that had been on her mind all evening.
"It's a scene from a fairy tale I told her," Yang Yi said, going back to the living room to grab a cup and pouring some freshly squeezed juice. He gestured, "Want some? It goes well with the cake to cut the richness."
Murphy nodded, took the cup, and took a small sip. It tasted pretty good—sweet and sour, a bit like wine. She wondered what combination of fruits Yang Yi had used to make it.
"That story is pretty interesting. Xixi has always loved the characters in it, daydreaming about having ice magic herself," Yang Yi said with a smile.
Murphy nodded lightly. "You've told Xixi a lot of stories. She's told me all of them. Did you make them up yourself?"
"Yeah, that's right," Yang Yi admitted shamelessly.
Murphy pouted, a bit unconvinced, and said, "That's not fair. You can make up stories yourself, and now when Xixi sleeps with me, she says my stories aren't good!"
"When you have time, organize your stories and write them down!" Murphy came up with an idea herself. "I want to read them, and then tell them to Xixi! That way, she won't be able to tell the difference!"
Yang Yi was a bit speechless, but seeing Murphy's cute, smug expression, he agreed anyway.
"Speaking of which, your guitar playing today wasn't bad. You've put some effort into learning," Murphy said, giving Yang Yi a rare compliment.
That was exactly the effect Yang Yi was going for. He was gradually revealing his abilities to Murphy, making sure it didn't feel too abrupt.
"And my singing? Is the guitar playing the only good part?" Yang Yi said with a smile.
But Murphy didn't hold back. "Your singing isn't good. Your voice hasn't been trained, and you can't handle the range of that song. You sang it stiffly, just going by your own instincts, lacking technique. Your breath is long, but you don't distribute it well, and you can't manage proper breathing transitions..."
Actually, Yang Yi sang better than the average person, but since Murphy was a professional singer, her standards were too high. She immediately gave him a harsh critique.
When it came to appreciating music, Yang Yi's ear was no worse than Murphy's, but it's hard for most people to "hear" their own singing. Plus, he hadn't received the professional training Murphy had. Though a bit reluctant to admit it, he had to acknowledge that Murphy was right.
His singing skills might not even be as good as Guo Ziyi's!
Murphy realized her critique had been a bit harsh and quickly added, "Of course, your singing is actually okay. It just needs a little polishing. How about this—when I have time, I'll teach you to sing?"
"Aren't you busy with work? And your new album?" Yang Yi almost let it slip that he knew about this from his other identity.
But Murphy didn't notice. She sighed and said, "Not that fast. The new album is still in the song-collecting phase. There's a pretty good songwriter who says he's my fan and wants to write songs for me, but the workload is huge. I don't think it's likely to work out, so I still need to go with Xiaojuan to the copyright association's website to search through a sea of needles..."
After venting her frustrations, Murphy suddenly stopped. "Oh, why am I telling you all this? You probably don't want to hear it."
Yang Yi chuckled inwardly but kept a straight face. "It's fine. I still believe in your fan. If he promised something, he'll deliver... probably."
"I don't know. By the way, I've noticed you've changed a lot lately!" Murphy suddenly turned her head, staring intently at Yang Yi.