The Daily Life of the Immortal King Chapter 112: Don't Forget the Rainbow After the Storm

Chapter 112: Don’t Forget the Rainbow After the Storm

Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations

"I have always thought that Student w.a.n.g Ling is a very good kid. He doesn't stir up trouble at school and is very well-behaved. However poor we are, we should never be poor in education. I hope that our school's special subsidy will be of real help to Student w.a.n.g Ling. Given his talent, I believe that as long as he has enough resources, it shouldn't be a problem for him to reach the Golden Core stage." As Teacher Pan said this, she stretched out her hand to rub w.a.n.g Ling's head, and his expression became even more dejected.

The old man nodded. "Teacher Pan, you're absolutely right. However poor we are, we should never be poor in education! Ling Ling has always been the pride of our w.a.n.g family."

Teacher Pan smiled as she nodded like a chicken pecking at rice.

After that, the old man sincerely invited her to take a look around upstairs; as they laughed and talked together, w.a.n.g Ling followed calmly behind them. When Teacher Pan approached the study where Father and Mother w.a.n.g were hiding, they both held their breaths.

"Teacher Pan, what's wrong...?" the old man asked.

Teacher Pan pointed to the study as she had sensed an aura. "There seems to be someone inside?"

Sweating, w.a.n.g Ling hurriedly released a portion of his strength to cover up Father and Mother w.a.n.g's auras. When Teacher Pan stretched out her spiritual senses again and found that the aura from earlier on had vanished, she frowned. "Ah, strange..."

The old man smiled embarra.s.sedly. "...Maybe it was a mouse."

Teacher Pan was shocked. "Are there mice in this villa?"

The old man sighed helplessly. "It's the outskirts, it's not strange to have mice here. They're rich in protein and can be eaten after their heads and tails have been removed. When we didn't have enough to eat before, I often caught mice to roast for w.a.n.g Ling's dad."

Teacher Pan: "..."

"..." w.a.n.g Ling suddenly felt that the old man's ability to spout nonsense was pretty awesome.

...

As they talked and laughed together, it was almost noon by the time Teacher Pan went downstairs with the old man.

"Mr w.a.n.g, I have two other students to visit in the afternoon, so I'll take my leave here." She looked at the old man and smiled.

This smile dazzled him a little, and seeing that she was about to go back down the hallway to the front door, he hurriedly grabbed her hands. "Teacher Pan, you haven't eaten yet, right? What about staying for some food?"

"This... that would be very troublesome for you..."

The old man was already taking his ap.r.o.n down from the clothes stand when he replied, "It's just a simple meal, how about a sweet and sour pork ribs set?"

Teacher Pan's expression changed a little; the old man's words were like an arrow that had struck an old photo alb.u.m in her memories. The alb.u.m was falling apart and had turned yellow with age, the photos inside so fuzzy that the faces in them were no longer clear...

In the end, she didn't leave, but it was obvious that her expression was no longer the same.

A sweet and sour pork ribs set...

This was my favorite food when I was younger.

How did this person know?

A coincidence?

Teacher Pan was silent as she sat waiting in the living room; she didn't talk to w.a.n.g Ling, and just looked spellbound at the old man's busy figure in the kitchen.

His mottled hands were riddled with scars and some old, distinct wounds; whether it was his left hand supporting the chopping board or his right hand holding the knife, they were both covered with calluses.

It was easy for Teacher Pan to guess that the old man had been a veteran chef who must have worked for at least several decades.

She quietly tried to recall an old picture in her memories, but just when it seemed that an outline was taking shape, the old man had already swiftly finished making the meal.

It was rice served with sweet and sour pork ribs and vegetables. The red ribs were drenched in a glistening sauce and seemed to be covered in a translucent golden sheen. They gave off an aroma to gladden the heart; this fragrance was enough to make a person drool uncontrollably.

Teacher Pan stared at these ribs with a clearly slack and absent-minded expression.

"This dish used to be one of my specialties. I haven't made it in a long time, I hope the taste is alright." The old man untied his ap.r.o.n and sat opposite Teacher Pan.

"Teacher Pan, have a taste!"

"Okay, thank you, Mr w.a.n.g."

She ate a small mouthful of rice and then took a soft bite of a rib; it was so soft and tender that it melted in her mouth. It had a special taste, and the juice was especially cool and refres.h.i.+ng, which involuntarily stimulated the appet.i.te.

"This truly tastes so special." Teacher Pan couldn't stop praising it. "Why do these sweet and sour ribs give off such a cool and refres.h.i.+ng feeling?"

Grandfather w.a.n.g: "Just now I realized that there's no sugar in the house, so I used Ji Zhi Syrup 1 instead."

Teacher Pan: "..."

w.a.n.g Ling: "..."

When it was time for her to leave, Teacher Pan stood at the door and bowed deeply to the old man. "Thank you for receiving me, Mr w.a.n.g, your cooking is very good."

He was a little sad. "You are welcome to visit us again, Teacher Pan."

"Of course." She stood at the entrance of the w.a.n.g family's small villa, smiling slightly as the afternoon sun shone on her face. Her originally knitted eyebrows had gradually relaxed and there was a twinkle in her eyes. She bade the old man a solemn goodbye in an incomparably soft tone, then slowly turned around and left.

As w.a.n.g Ling looked at this scene, he knew that this story of first love, which had spanned so many years, had come to a full stop in this moment.

The old man stood at the door with his eyes fixed on Teacher Pan as she walked down East Huang Road to the bus stop.

By the end of the story, she ultimately still hadn't been able to recognize him.

But this was all no longer important to him.

...

In the middle of the night, the old man sat in the living room and took out his letter to first love from back then. On the back, stroke by stroke, he wrote his final farewell to his first love.

This is the first and final hymn...

Whether it was the pounding of my heart at the beginning,

Or the conclusion to unrequited love now,

The end to this emotional journey of more than thirty years

has been written.

...

I have suddenly forgotten the beginning of the chase,

But it is hard to forget your youthful countenance.

To put a full stop on thirty years of youth...

Everything is too beautiful.

...

Youth, first love...

These two books seemed to have been written in a hurry.

But fortunately, that last full stop

Is in the rainbow-colored clouds.

May you be happy like the rainbow,

If you are well, every day will be sunny...

In his bedroom, w.a.n.g Ling quietly looked at this final hymn which the old man had written.

At that moment, he suddenly understood.

The most beautiful romance wasn't necessarily about growing old with the one you love; it could be looking joyfully at the rainbow in the sky after the storm of love had pa.s.sed, and sending the one you love off on the seven colors of the rainbow...