She opened it and took a look. She then grinned and wrote down two words with a serious face: “Thank you.”
After passing back the notebook back to the owner, Qin Xiu opened it and took a look. He exclaimed in his heart, “Good handwriting,” it represented her strong spirit and strength of character. The rounded strokes did not lose any elegance, and every stroke of her pen was rich with understated steadiness.
The handwriting was the same as the person; no wonder his uncle kept praising her nonstop.
He looked at the only two words. Qin Xiu also responded with two words then passed the notebook back to her.
“Not at all.” (In Chinese writing, these are two words)
The words he replied with made Ye Jian’s grin go wider. She did not write anything else; instead, she drew a smiley face and passed it back.
A person who knew the languages of eight countries had a high IQ and was good looking… but why is it that his sense of direction is so awful? That doesn’t make any sense.
She had once read a book in a university hospital that had mentioned that children who had a lousy sense of direction would do things without organization. They tend to have lousy planning skills and easily have lapses in judgment on matters concerning positions and sequences, etc.
But looking at Qin Xiu, she really couldn’t sense that. What she could see was just a diplomat experienced at handling things and who would do things carefreely at his own pace.
No matter how you look at it, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who would have a lousy sense of direction.
The notebook conversation concluded with Ye Jian’s smiley face. Six hours later, they had arrived at their destination at 11 o’clock, according to China’s time.
This visit wasn’t an official one, and even the Pakistan Government arranged everything in the shadows. Although there weren’t any flowers or fireworks, the moment the head leader walked out of the airplane’s ramp; he received a warm welcome by the Chief Executive Officer, Minister of Foreign Affairs, their escorting Regimental Commander and their Minister of Financial Affairs who had been waiting at both sides of the ramp.
The visit that will go on for five days had officially begun. While our country was celebrating National Week and while other countries were assuming that none of our leaders will make an overseas visit, the leaders of our country had already started a secret discussion in Pakistan.
As a religious country, the cultures and habits of the Pakistani were quite simplistic. While the head leader was having a meeting with the President of Pakistan, Ye Jian was holding a conversation with the President’s daughter. She understood why this girl, who was the same age as her, was so fascinated with Chinese culture.
From scenic spots and historical locations to local conditions and customs, then from there onto celebrations, traditions, and interesting things about her school life, before two days have passed. Ye Jian had already become good friends, who would talk about everything, with Ms. Petty.
“I like to travel, but my country currently isn’t in a time that is suited to traveling. That’s very regrettable. Even if I wanted to bring you to all the beautiful scenery we have here; I am not allowed to.” Ms. Petty, who sat across Ye Jian with crossed legs, had a pair of big and beautiful eyes. They were filled with a dim sorrow, like an injured sparrow, awaiting the day that it can finally return to the skies.
Facing her sorrows, Ye Jian smiled: “That’s okay. That day will come eventually. War brings destruction, but it also brings resurrection. Ms. Petty, that day won’t be too far away.”
Compared to Pakistan, China’s current situation was indeed like heaven. There weren’t any wars or conflicts, no terrorist organizations, and not many extremists.
While for this well-educated, Ms. Petty, who had also seen her fair share of the world, her enthusiasm towards Chinese culture wasn’t without reason. All of it was because she wanted to fly higher and further, but the reality was telling her that she couldn’t do that.
The accompanying translator reported back to Qin Xiu very quickly, telling them that Ye Jian’s side didn’t need him for translation. Her conversation with Ms. Petty was extraordinarily smooth, and her language skills were comparable to a translator.
Qin Xiu did not send the translator back. He indeed hadn’t expected for the little lass to be that amazing; she even had a talent for foreign languages.
The sounds of bells started to ring; the clock was currently pointing at 2.30 p.m. It was now time for Ms. Petty to have her English lesson.
