It wasn't exactly the time or place—after all, they were still on the train—so Qin Yu couldn't immediately test out his new ideas. Besides, he knew better than to rush; it was wiser to let the thoughts simmer, give them time to mature.
He jotted down a few notes, then went back to flipping through his other materials, hoping to find some supporting evidence or inspiration.
So the two of them slipped back into their familiar rhythm: facing each other, each absorbed in their own book or notebook.
But this time, Qin Yu was far more focused than before. So much so that when the little witch's feet crept over to make trouble, he barely reacted. He'd just catch a wayward foot, absentmindedly knead or squeeze it, treating it like a stress-relief toy.
It was a habit many people shared: when deeply engrossed, they'd unconsciously fidget—picking at nails, scratching their chin, fiddling with an eraser...
Hermione knew all about such habits. She'd once been a chronic nail-biter whenever she read. Her parents had scolded her endlessly, and she'd paid the price—not only had her fingertips been chewed raw, but she'd even caught a nasty case of parasites. For her younger self, the idea of having worms in her tummy had been utterly terrifying.
So she understood Qin's little quirk.
"At least he doesn't bite his nails like I used to," Hermione thought with relief.
After all, after hours on a train, her feet were a little sweaty. She didn't mind him massaging them, but if he started biting his nails afterward—that would be a step too far for any dentist's daughter, especially one who'd learned the hard way.
Lost in these idle musings, Hermione drew back her right foot, which had been getting a thorough massage. Qin Yu's hand closed on thin air, his expression briefly startled—only to smooth out a moment later as his fingers found their next "fidget toy": her soft left foot, which had quietly crept over.
Both feet deserved equal pampering, after all. Or as Qin liked to say, "Rain and dew must fall evenly on all the flowers and grass."
Enjoying the gentle pressure, Hermione refocused on her book, her mood content and her study efficiency soaring.
Clack-clack, clack-clack...
The train rumbled tirelessly across the vast countryside. As the sun slanted westward, it raced toward its destination like a great iron serpent.
…
"Darling, will we make it in time?"
"Definitely—well, unless we get stuck in traffic."
A black Ford inched through the crowded streets of London, a young couple inside growing increasingly anxious. They still had quite a way to go before reaching King's Cross Station.
It was the Grangers—Hermione's parents.
They'd gotten her letter well in advance, so they'd planned to pick up both kids together on the day the mysterious school let out for the holidays.
But just before leaving, David Granger had remembered something—they still hadn't returned those rented videotapes.
So they'd made a detour to the video rental shop, which had cost them precious time.
"I knew we shouldn't have bothered with those tapes. Now Qin and Hermione will be waiting for us," Jenny Granger grumbled, only half-serious.
"Love, I admit it was my mistake. I forgot to return them earlier. But you wouldn't want our daughter or Qin stumbling across those, would you?" Mr. Granger said, braking for yet another red light and sighing in defeat.
Mrs. Granger thought about it and conceded the point. Even the covers were completely inappropriate for kids, never mind the content. If the children ever found them, it would be mortifying.
Having kids at home did make things complicated.
She thought back to the months when both children were away at school. She and her husband had enjoyed a true "just-the-two-of-us" life—going wherever they pleased, doing whatever they wanted. At home, there was no need to worry about disturbing the kids' sleep or being caught in the act. The sofa, the stairs, the kitchen, the balcony… every spot was fair game for their little experiments.
Flushing slightly at the memory, Mrs. Granger asked, "Darling, did you fix the dining room table?"
"Ahem, don't worry, Jenny. I reinforced it with nails. It won't wobble or squeak anymore," Mr. Granger replied, a hint of nostalgia coloring his tone.
That table had seen some memorable times—almost too memorable, given how close it came to falling apart.
Mrs. Granger caught the shift in his voice. She glanced at him, her own eyes turning dreamy.
But reality soon returned. Their little oasis was about to end for a while; she'd have to restrain herself, starting tonight.
Sigh. If only the kids weren't coming home just yet…
No, no, Jenny, how could you think that? Hermione is your own flesh and blood, and Qin is practically family. Of course you miss them!
She scolded herself inwardly, her longing to see the children only growing stronger.
Fortunately, after squeezing through two more congested streets, the traffic finally thinned and their pace picked up.
When they finally pulled into the station plaza, they spotted Qin and Hermione just emerging from the exit.
Perhaps it was just their imagination, but after three months apart, both children seemed to have grown taller. Clothes that had been a bit loose now fit just right.
They watched as Qin hauled a huge suitcase in one hand while holding their lively daughter's hand with the other. The two exchanged words, and Hermione made a fierce, exaggerated face—baring her teeth and flexing her claws.
She was so much more energetic than before—maybe even a little too much. The Grangers exchanged a look, the same thought passing silently between them.
On Hermione's end, she was threatening Qin Yu with a mix of cuteness and ferocity: "I'm warning you—don't you dare say anything bad about me in front of Mum and Dad! Do you hear me? Promise! Promise right now!"
Before Qin could answer, she saw his gaze shift. She followed his eyes—and spotted her parents waving at them with beaming, almost blinding smiles.
Clearly, from this distance, her parents had seen everything. Their grins were just a little too bright.
The little witch froze in embarrassment.
But she recovered quickly—after all, Miss Granger had faced plenty of big moments lately, and her nerves had only grown stronger.
She smoothed out her less-than-elegant expression, put on her best well-behaved face, let go of Qin's hand, and ran eagerly toward her parents.
By the time she reached them, her eyes were already tinged with red, though she hadn't even noticed.
🔥 Want to read the next 20 chapters RIGHT NOW?
💎 Patreon members get instant access!
⚡ Limited-time offer currently running...
👉 [Join on - patreon.com/GoldenLong]