Chapter 507: Jiang Sifan Calls ’Dad’ for the First Time on New Year’s Eve, the Barrier Between Father and Son Is Gone

He rode his bike from one street to the next, weaving from the east side of town to the west, then to the south, but still came up empty-handed.

He stopped in front of a bookstore. The door was open, so he went in and looked around, but he came out empty-handed once again.

He then wandered over to a stationery store, glanced at the items inside, and shook his head.

He stood on the curb, watching the pedestrians pass by, a growing sense of urgency in his heart.

He thought of the wallet Jiang Silu had given as a gift—the one engraved with an “L.” It was thoughtful and warm.

He remembered the secretive look on her face as she led him into her room to see the painting, her eyes curving into crescents as she smiled.

Yesterday afternoon, Jiang Silu had pulled him to her bedroom door and said secretively, “Brother, come in. I want to show you something.”

He followed her inside. Jiang Silu took a cloth-wrapped frame from a cabinet and carefully unwrapped it.

It was a painting of their family photo from Changlong.

Jiang Yixia was in the center, with Jiang Silu and Lu Fan on the left, and him and Wen Wan on the right.

Sunlight fell on their faces, and everyone was smiling naturally.

Jiang Silu had drawn it with colored pencils, one stroke at a time. She had captured everyone’s expressions perfectly, even including the fine line by the corner of Lu Fan’s eye.

“When did you draw this?” he had asked, stunned.

“I started as soon as we got back. It took several days,” Jiang Silu said with a smile. “Look at Dad’s smile. Doesn’t it look just like him?”

He took a look and nodded. “It does.”

“So, Brother, what did you get him?” Jiang Silu asked.

He hesitated, not answering.

Now, standing on the street corner, he clutched his phone, a hollow feeling in his chest.

Jiang Silu had put so much thought into her gift; he couldn’t just buy something random and pass it off as enough.

But what could he possibly buy? Lu Fan wanted for nothing.

He rode his bike around again, finally stopping in front of a handmade leather goods shop.

The door was open, and a few other customers were inside, browsing.

He went in and looked around. Wallets, key cases, card holders… it was much like the shop where Jiang Silu had bought hers. He picked up a key case, examined it, and put it back down.

A clerk approached him with a smile. “Can I help you, sir? We offer custom engraving.”

“No, thank you.” He shook his head and walked out.

As he reached the doorway, he suddenly stopped.

Near the entrance hung a display case. Inside lay a leather bracelet—it was dark brown, slender, and exquisitely braided.

The bracelet had a small metal clasp in the center that could be engraved.

He walked back in and pointed to the bracelet. “Can this one be engraved?”

“Yes, it can. What would you like engraved on it?”

He thought for a moment. “An ‘F’.”

“Of course. Please wait a moment.”

He paid and waited at the counter.

The clerk was quick; it was done in just a few minutes.

He took the bracelet and turned it over to have a look. The engraved “F” was small, but sharp and clear.

He slipped the bracelet into his pocket and walked out of the store.

Back home, he hid the bracelet in his nightstand drawer. He closed the door and sat on the edge of his bed, his heart beating a little fast.

He thought of the signed Owen merchandise Lu Fan had bought for him, remembering his words: “I had a friend in the United States get it.” He recalled the casual, understated tone Lu Fan had used, as if it were nothing at all.

He took a deep breath, stood up, and left the room.

At three in the afternoon, a black van pulled up to the villa.

Wen Wan was in the kitchen helping Jiang Yixia wash vegetables. She heard a noise from outside but didn’t think much of it.

Jiang Silu came running down the stairs. She dashed to the door, glanced outside, then turned and shouted toward the kitchen, “Sister Wen Wan, you have to come see this!”

Wen Wan dried her hands, walked out, and stood in the doorway.

The van door opened. Chen He stepped out first, then turned to help an elderly man out of the vehicle.

The man was wearing a dark gray padded jacket and a knit hat. His face was deeply wrinkled, but he seemed to be in good spirits.

He stood by the van, squinting as he looked at the villa before him, then at the people in the doorway.

Wen Wan froze.

The rims of her eyes instantly reddened. Her lips trembled as if to speak, but no sound came out, caught in her throat.

“Wan’Er,” the old man spoke first, his voice a little hoarse but clear.

Tears streamed down Wen Wan’s face.

She ran and threw herself into the old man’s arms, burying her face in his chest and bursting into tears.

“Grandpa… Grandpa, how… how did you get here…” Her voice was broken, unable to form a complete sentence through her sobs.

The old man patted her back, his own voice choked with emotion. “Your Uncle Lu sent someone to pick me up. He said you were spending the New Year in Yangcheng all by yourself, so Grandpa came to keep you company.”

Wen Wan cried for a long while before finally lifting her head. Wiping away her tears, she turned to look at Lu Fan.

Lu Fan stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Wen Wan walked over to him and bowed deeply, her voice still trembling. “Uncle Lu, thank you… thank you so much…”

Lu Fan quickly steadied her, smiling. “There’s no need to thank me. Let’s get Grandpa inside. It’s cold out here.”

Jiang Silu ran over as well, linking her arm with the old man’s and calling out sweetly, “Hello, Grandpa!”

The old man looked at her and smiled. “You must be Silu, then? Your father has told me about you.”

“What did my father say about me?” Jiang Silu asked curiously.

“He said you’re thoughtful, dutiful, and a talented artist,” the old man replied with a smile.

Jiang Silu blushed and glanced at Lu Fan, who gave her a little wink.

Jiang Sifan came over to stand beside Wen Wan. He looked at the old man and said, “Grandpa.”

The old man looked him up and down and then nodded. “Sifan.”

“Grandpa,” Jiang Sifan replied with a nod.

“Good, good.” The old man clapped him on the shoulder. He said nothing more, but his eyes showed his approval.