To be fair, Xixi's drawings were still at the level of a child's random scribbles, but from the perspective of mood and composition, she showed some talent! Yang Ran's eyes lit up. After praising and encouraging the little one, he suggested, "Xixi, how about Daddy teaches you how to draw?"
In his past life, at the assassin training camp, Yang Ran had learned everything from music, chess, calligraphy, to painting—all sorts of miscellaneous skills were a must. This was the basics of disguise! After all, the missions assigned by the Poker Assassin Organization were the toughest and most dangerous! Without the ability to blend into the crowd at any moment, Yang Ran would have been caught by the police countless times!
Although Yang Ran wasn't particularly fond of painting, and later became obsessed with music above all else, in his spare time, he just liked listening to songs and watching movies, indulging in his carefully arranged safe house. As for painting and other skills, after leaving the training camp, he made no progress at all. Still, it was enough to fool Xixi!
Talking without demonstrating wouldn't do, so Yang Ran started by showing Xixi a little trick. Under the little girl's amazed gaze, Yang Ran picked up a black pencil and lightly sketched. With a few swift strokes, a little girl with flowing long hair appeared on the paper. It had a hint of the Q-version style from his past life, and the little girl's facial features and expression closely resembled Xixi's, dressed in the same lace dress, tights, and leather shoes Xixi was wearing!
Plus, Yang Ran deliberately made the little girl's head bigger, with large eyes that had an anime feel, and hair cascading to the ground like a waterfall—adorable!
"Wow, Daddy, Daddy is so amazing!" Xixi was thrilled, unable to tear her eyes away. She opened her little mouth and exclaimed in admiration.
Hearing his daughter's praise, Yang Ran felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment! Even though he had been cautious not to say too much earlier—afraid of slipping up—he couldn't help but ask, "Xixi, can you tell who Daddy drew?"
Having been a soldier, Yang Ran's voice was naturally resonant, but when facing his daughter, it softened into something unlike a burly tough guy. Even Lyon from his past life, cold as ice, wouldn't believe it if he heard himself now!
"I know, I know, it's Xixi!" Xixi shyly pointed at herself with delight, but feeling a bit embarrassed, she giggled and threw herself into her father's arms, leaving only one lively eye visible.
...
Almost the entire afternoon, Yang Ran taught Xixi how to sketch and helped her fill in the rough parts of her drawings. Xixi had a blast, her laughter like silver bells ringing one after another. Little did she know, her father was even happier than she was! Because Yang Ran's fear of being exposed never came true.
Maybe Xixi sensed that the father before her was no longer the clumsy, dull one from before. But at her young age, she wasn't suspicious. The little one firmly believed her eyes—Daddy was Daddy, how could he be anyone else?
In truth, the old Yang Ran couldn't even appreciate Xixi's drawings, let alone paint. But Xixi didn't care why her father had suddenly become so skilled! The little girl had turned into an ardent little fan, worshiping her dad.
...
Happy times flew by quickly. Before they knew it, the sun was setting, and the streetlights outside the window cast a faint glow. Xixi had played until she was tired—a child's stamina can't match an adult's. Under Yang Ran's soothing, she fell into a deep sleep.
Yang Ran carefully carried Xixi to the middle of the bed, gently placing a small pillow under her head and smoothing out her soft long hair so it wouldn't bother her. In April, the early spring chill still lingered, especially after sunset when the air turned cool. Yang Ran rummaged through the cabinet for a while before finding a towel blanket of moderate thickness to cover Xixi.
"Alright, now the question is, what's for dinner?" Yang Ran softly closed the bedroom door, stroking his chin in thought.
His place was about twenty square meters, small but complete—a bedroom, a small living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom. Of course, each space was cramped, especially the kitchen! Besides the stove and sink, there was barely room for his burly frame, let alone anyone else. Even turning around was a hassle...
His past life was better—money, space, a mansion... But Yang Ran wasn't picky. He checked the fridge and rice bin left by his predecessor, pondering what to cook for Xixi's dinner.
When it came to cooking, the old Yang Ran was a novice. He could only boil plain rice and pair it with pickled vegetables, olives, or a plate of blanched greens with soy sauce. Partly because his income was low and life was tight—having a child, he saved every penny to give Xixi everything she wanted when he was with her. It must be said, Yang Ran's love for his daughter surpassed everything in the world. On the other hand, the old Yang Ran truly had no knack for cooking.
But the current Yang Ran was different. In his past life, he lived alone and lived well, never skimping on food. Whether cooking Chinese or Western dishes, he could hold his own! Of course, back then, he could only enjoy it alone. Now, finally able to cook for his beloved little one, Yang Ran was determined to do it right.
However, Yang Ran soon scratched his head. "Even a clever housewife can't cook without rice!" he sighed with a wry smile. The fridge had only a few eggs, some sausages, and the cabbage the old Yang Ran had eaten for years... The rice bin was well-stocked, but plain rice with such meager sides would taste bland even with his skills.
Yang Ran could make do himself, but he couldn't serve his daughter such "pig feed"! Besides, it was too late to go grocery shopping. His rented place was remote; the nearest market was a half-hour walk away, and he couldn't leave Xixi alone at home.
So, what to eat for dinner? Maybe eat out? But the small eateries near the village were questionable in hygiene. Yang Ran's gaze finally landed on the instant noodle box in the corner, still half-full. These were the old Yang Ran's comfort food after night shifts—too tired and hungry to wait for rice to cook, he'd just brew a bowl of hot noodles and eat before sleeping.
"Instant noodles are the food of loneliness, the best friend of insomniacs." Looking at the half-box of noodles, memories flooded back, and he couldn't help but sigh, a hint of bitterness rising in his heart. Yang Ran shook his head, pushing the thought away. For tonight's dinner, he already had a plan.