Pedro Langley looked up and saw a very ordinary gate, no different from what he had seen in passing before.
The gate to the courtyard was open, and noisy sounds came from inside.
They were all voices of old men.
Pedro Langley looked at Nora Scott in confusion, "Don’t they ever sleep?"
The two exchanged a glance and took a few steps forward, coming closer, able to glimpse a corner of the courtyard, and the sounds from inside became clearer.
"Ward, where’s the glue? Give me some, mine’s not sticking well."
"Sister-in-law must have taken it back. I’ll go check the living room."
"Quinn, draw a mountain on my Kongming Lantern, White Snow Mountain. I was born near there."
"Bring the stove closer; the ink Quinn just ground is freezing."
The courtyard was quite a lively scene.
Five or six old men, with Sir Sutton, Sir Quinn, and Ward as the main forces, the place was littered with materials for making Kongming Lanterns, and they were joyfully busy. Antonio Easton sat in a wheelchair, covered with a thick blanket on both sides with stoves, visibly tired, almost dozing off, yet forcing himself to stay awake and watch them bustle.
These elderly men, regardless of their previous achievements or how much admiration they received, gathered privately like mischievous old children.
"Easton, what do you want to paint?"
After finishing one Kongming Lantern, Bernardo Quinn took another and asked Antonio Easton.
Antonio Easton kept his eyes closed, thought for a moment, then lifted his eyelids, saying, "Paint Loulanel City."
As soon as he finished speaking, there was a brief silence among the group.
In the end, Bernardo Quinn gave a big flourish and cheerfully said, "Alright."
The few seconds of frozen atmosphere vanished in an instant, like an illusion.
In the courtyard, the old men busied themselves happily, as lively and splendid as younger men, if not more so.
Thinking of the few young people at home playing cards, games, or watching TV, Nora Scott couldn’t help but sigh internally.
Each generation is duller than the last...
In terms of ability, each generation is worse than the last.
Nora Scott asked, "Finished watching, shall we go?"
In an instant, Pedro Langley glanced at the steps leading to the gate, asking, "Sit for a while?"
Nora Scott hesitated briefly, glanced at the courtyard again, saw the busy figures, hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded.
This time, her hand smoothly came out of Pedro Langley’s pocket.
Her hand was warm, and even with the wind blowing, it wasn’t immediately uncomfortably cold.
They walked up the steps and found a relatively clean, snow-free spot on the highest step to sit down.
Pedro Langley sat next to Nora Scott, very close, blocking the side wind.
"They always do these activities." Nora Scott took out the box of mooncakes and spoke unhurriedly, "Gathering together to make all kinds of strange things. Easton is responsible for the creative design, Sir Quinn for patterns and paintings, Ward is excellent at handiwork and can get hands-on. Sir Sutton... he’s good at appraising antiques, but in this matter, he can only give verbal advice and do odd jobs."
Saying this, Nora Scott broke the mooncake in half and handed one half to Pedro Langley.
Lowering his eyes, Pedro Langley looked at the offered half mooncake, smiled, and took it, "You’re thoughtful."
Nora Scott rolled her eyes, "Next time when you give someone something, don’t stress ’for one’. It makes people feel guilty eating it."
"That’s called a speaking skill."
Pedro Langley leisurely said, "Because I originally intended to share it with you."
Speak properly! Content orıginally comes from 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩⚫𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⚫𝔫𝔢𝔱