Meng Shuyan wiggled around in his dad's arms, his eyes darting around, searching.
"Are you looking for your mom?" Jiang Jinghuai asked, lowering his head.
"Mhm, mhm."
"Over there." Jiang Jinghuai's voice was low as he took his little hand and pointed toward the very front, on the left.
Huh? Meng Shuyan followed the direction his dad pointed in. After a moment, his eyes lit up, "That's Mom!"
The woman didn't notice the two of them at all, seemingly engrossed in watching the stage. It was strange—despite the crowd, just one look, and he'd found her.
Jiang Jinghuai patted his son's head and asked thoughtfully, "Did your mom use to sing often?"
"Yes, Daddy. Mom is amazing!" Meng Shuyan nodded enthusiastically and even started mimicking a performance, "Mom can sing, 'I have a tiny bird, I never ride it... One day I took it to the market… And then there's that song, aah~~~ This——is——the——Qing——hai——Tibet——Plateau——ah——'"
