"Six is the age for playing with toys," Xiang Minghou said matter-of-factly, turning his head and buying the small animal whistle in his hand.
...
Ye Qianning found it hard to explain. After all, being too mature at only six years old would arouse suspicion.
As they went down the street, Xiang Minghou bought her anything he found cute. Before long, Ye Qianning was holding a small pile of things in her arms.
"Dad, look, it's almost noon, and you still haven't picked out a birthday gift," Ye Qianning couldn't help but remind him.
Xiang Minghou, however, was unconcerned. "We can just pick any old vase and send it over," he said while picking out a hair ribbon.
"A vase?"
"Yeah. Your dad is a military man; I don't know anything about fine things." Xiang Minghou was terrible at preparing gifts, so whether he was on the frontier or in the Capital City, whenever an occasion arose, he would just give a vase.
Ye Qianning thought for a moment, then reached out and tugged his beard.
