Professor Xie, isn't this a case of forcing customers to buy products that don't match the

Shang Song's face turned completely red.

Xie Jing said he was cute, and he did it in such a serious tone!

He couldn't suppress the smile on his face any longer. Looking at Xie Jing's still expressionless face, he suddenly leaned forward, tilted his head back, and said, "Then I'm a poor little bear who was dragged out of hibernation."

As he spoke, he winked mischievously, patted the heavy insulated bag in his arms, and said, "This little bear who hasn't had enough sleep is going to take my super handsome zookeeper to find a propitious spot to have our first meal of the new year!"

Xie Jing chuckled at his joke. After admiring his zookeeper's captivating smile, Shang Song grabbed Xie Jing's wrist and started walking forward. "Guardian, let's go!"

Xie Jing did not break free and let him lead her.

The auspicious location is a park near Shang Song's home.

It's just an ordinary little park, and its scenery can't compare to Xishan, which has people who take care of it every day. Also, because it was early morning on the first day of the Lunar New Year, there weren't many tourists.

They found a bench that was sheltered from the wind and faced the sun.

The little bear carefully wiped the bench three times with a tissue before inviting the zookeeper to sit down.

The steamed buns and boiled eggs were placed between the two people, and the soy milk pot had only one lid serving as a cup.

While munching on a meat bun, Shang Song watched Xie Jing leisurely peel a boiled egg and suddenly asked, "Comrade zookeeper, is this the worst eating environment you've ever had in your life?"

Xie Jing paused in peeling the eggshell and looked up at his side.

Shang Song still had a steamed bun in her mouth, her cheeks bulging, and her eyes were still staring at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

Xie Jing's gaze fell, sweeping over the public benches and tables, the insulated bags used as placemats, the soy milk cup lids that could only be shared, and then over the nearby bare trees and the artificial lake covered with a thin layer of ice.

He recalled how Shang Song had carefully wiped the bench three times, paused for two seconds, and shook his head: "No."

As he spoke, he gently placed the perfectly peeled egg into Shang Song's hand, then picked up a steamed bun and took a bite.

The meat filling is warm and juicy, a simple and homely dish.

He took another sip of the warm soy milk from the lid; the rich aroma of soybeans and the slightly hot temperature dispelled the chill of the winter morning.

He finally spoke again: "Shang Song, eating, chatting, and staying up late with you, Uncle and Aunt, including now..."

He glanced at the steamed bun in his hand before turning back to look at Shang Song. "Eating a simple breakfast like this in the park feels so novel to me."

Shang Song laughed foolishly when he heard Xie Jing say that. Luckily, Xie Jing didn't think it was a bad thing to have breakfast in the park on the first day of the Lunar New Year.

He finally felt relieved and started biting into the hard-boiled egg that Xie Jing had just peeled for him, without asking any more questions.

However, Shang Song himself may not know why he asked that question, but Xie Jing does.

He knew that Shang Song was uneasy, insecure, and fearful.

However, Shang Song actually had nothing to be anxious or fearful about, and there was no need for him to feel inferior.

Shang Song has loving parents and a warm family.

"I know what you're worried about." Xie Jing watched Shang Song finish the boiled egg, then naturally poured soy milk from the thermos into the lid and handed it to Shang Song.

Shang Song took the egg, sipped it to swallow the mouthful of choking yolk, and casually hummed, "Hmm? What? What's wrong?"

Xie Jing's gaze fell on Shang Song's chubby cheeks, and he said in a calm and unhurried tone, "I've seen many so-called families in very high positions."

"Some are newly emerging elites who maintain a respectable facade. Their children are sent to learn various etiquette and skills, waiting to be pushed out in the future to consolidate their interests. Family ties are clearly priced."

"Some are older families with strict rules, filled with suspicion and betrayal, or numbness and indifference nurtured by a long-term life of comfort."

His gaze returned to the steamed bun container between the two of them.

"Their dining table may have rare ingredients and exquisite tableware, but few people would do what your aunt did, simply because she was afraid you would be hungry or cold, and stuff you with what she thought was the best."

"Even if it's just the most ordinary steamed bun, a handful of change," his gaze moved up and landed on Shang Song's bear hat, "a hat that she might think you'd look cute wearing."

"Few people would be like my uncle, who was clearly nervous but clumsily tried to cover it up by shouting, even if his excuses were full of holes."

He recalled Shang's father's affected shout from the balcony, and a faint smile flickered in his eyes.

“Few people would do what you did,” his smile deepened, “just because you were worried I would feel uncomfortable, you jumped out of your warmest bed on a cold winter morning without hesitation, dragged me away, and even carefully wiped the park bench three times.”

"Shang Song," he called his name, "you possess something that many people who seem to have everything may never truly possess in their entire lives."

"A warm family and the ability to love others from the bottom of one's heart are very precious, and one could even say they are rare in this world."

Xie Jing rarely speaks at such a long pace.

Shang Song pretended to sip his soy milk, but his ears were perked up, eager to hear if Xie Jing would continue.

Xie Jing looked at him like this, remained silent for a moment, then looked away. When he spoke again, his voice was even lower.

"Before I was nine years old, my parents were very busy, and I also had a lot of homework, so I didn't have much contact with the outside world."

"But in my memory, my mother would remember to prepare a plate of warm snacks for me during my afternoons of rest. My father would occasionally come home early and test my knowledge. If I answered correctly, there would be a faint smile in his eyes."

"The home I knew back then had warmth, though it's a blurry memory, I know it was there."

"After I turned nine, that vague warmth disappeared. Home became a responsibility, something that had to be inherited. My grandfather was strict; he taught me how to survive and take control. When I was seventeen, he passed away..."

He didn't say anything more.

"So," Xie Jing turned his head and looked directly at Shang Song, "you don't need to feel that your world is a compromise or a concession for me, quite the opposite..."

"It was you who let me feel the warmth of home again. For me, this is not a compromise, but..."

He thought for a moment, then finally said, "It's a gift."

Shang Song was completely stunned, and forgot to even eat the steamed bun he had just picked up.

He simply looked at Xie Jing, watching him peel back the layers of his world with the calmest, most serene tone, revealing it to him without reservation.

Xie Jing wasn't comforting him, but rather telling him that, in Xie Jing's eyes, what Shang Song possessed was something extremely precious.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but couldn't utter a word.

He wanted to present Xie Jing with all the warm things in the world that Xie Jing liked, whether it was steamed buns, soy milk, or a fluffy hat.

"Xie Jing!" Shang Song didn't want to, and dared not, ask Xie Jing about the truth behind his parents' passing, so he could only say, "Then come to my house for Chinese New Year every year from now on!"

Xie Jing looked at his red eyes and replied:

"it is good."

Then, he took out a still-warm bun from the bottom of the lunchbox and replaced the cold bun in Shang Song's hand.

"Eat up," he said, "the little bear's breakfast is getting cold."