Chapter 113: When You Wake from the Dream, You Will See the Sun

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Jining frowned as he drank his coffee; he still couldn't understand why anyone would enjoy such a bitter beverage. Chewing on buttered toast, he watched Qin Mo, who resembled a refined English lady, skillfully cutting bacon and sausages. Her knife and fork danced gracefully between her fingers. Noticing Jining’s gaze, Qin Mo looked up. “Do you want some black pudding?”

“Bad girl, you’re asking if I want to eat something you won’t touch yourself.” Jining took a slice of bacon from her plate. He knew he was acting like an immature adolescent seeking attention through teasing, but he couldn’t resist seeing her pout.

Qin Mo watched as her carefully cut bacon was taken, feeling suddenly wronged. “You’re so annoying. If you wanted it, I’d have given it to you. Why do you have to take it deliberately?” After a moment’s thought, she placed the dark-colored black pudding onto Jining’s plate. “I think this tastes great, so I left it all for you.”

Jining was about to call her out, but when he looked up, he caught her half-smiling expression. Reluctantly, he bit into the black pudding—made of pig’s blood mixed with minced meat, oats, and onions. Despite its intimidating appearance, the taste was surprisingly good.

“This is actually quite tasty.” Jining cut off another piece and chewed thoughtfully. The rich meatiness combined with onions created a distinct foreign flavor, worth savoring again.

Qin Mo nodded and resumed cutting her bacon and sausage, seemingly determined to slice the food into neat little pieces.

“I’ve wanted to ask for a long time—why do you cut your food into such tiny pieces when eating Western food?” Jining asked curiously.

Qin Mo speared a piece of sausage and put it in her mouth. Only after swallowing did she reply, “Because a girl should be elegant.”

Jining took a big bite of a whole blood sausage. “That’s such a strange kind of refinement. Is it to show off to me? I really like you—so much that even if you squatted at a street corner eating watermelon, I’d still think you look good.”

Qin Mo was long immune to Jining’s nonsense. She tapped the table. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Jining responded with a soft “Oh,” then continued, “Do you want the black pudding? It’s the last piece.”

After breakfast, it was the perfect time to head out. The nine o’clock sunlight warmed Jining, and the drowsiness he had fought off earlier returned.

Before he could close his eyes, Qin Mo pushed him out of the hotel. “Shall we investigate Yvette Joyce first or Warren Griffin?”

“Anything’s fine,” Jining yawned.

“Cheer up! Isn’t morning supposed to be the clearest time?” Qin Mo expressed mild frustration by tugging on Jining’s ear. Since he had been confined to a wheelchair, this had become her habitual way to show displeasure—without any real malice, just habit.

“I dreamed about you last night,” Jining said, holding his ear protectively. “You were much gentler in the dream. If you pull my ear again, I’ll go find the you in my dream.”

Qin Mo sighed, unsure how to respond. She blinked and leaned forward. “If you’re more energetic today, I’ll give you a surprise tonight.”

Jining’s face flushed. He hesitated. “Is it one of those adult surprises?”

Qin Mo suppressed the urge to tug his ear again, smiled slightly, and said nothing.

“Let’s go! To the monastery!” Jining perked up, completely awake.

“Are you here to see Sister Yvette?” a voice asked.

“No, strictly speaking, she’s not yet a nun. She needs to be baptized for at least five years before applying, must join the convent, and study at the novitiate for at least six years. Here, she’s an apprentice nun.”

“Right, she arrived at our monastery three years ago. Have you received help from her through the grace of the Lord?”

“I don’t know what happened. Strangely, I haven’t seen her in a week. She might have gone to the orphanage. She’s always been close to Sister Caroline there and sometimes helps out.”

“Nothing has happened here in the past week. Under God’s watch, this place has remained peaceful.”

“Thank you very much. God bless you.”

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Jining watched a young nun in white robes walk away in the distance, then looked up at Qin Mo.

“It seems Yvette isn’t very respected. She hesitated in places when talking about her.”

“Next time, let’s try a different approach. I feel bad deceiving such an innocent girl.” Qin Mo had been silent until now. Though she didn’t believe in anything, she felt guilty about fishing for information from such an inexperienced nun.

“This is a white lie. If we didn’t lie, it would be very troublesome. Besides, everything we do is for justice.” Jining didn’t share her concern. He gently comforted Qin Mo and began to ponder.

“This is the best of times and the worst of times. We cannot change the world or build an eternal utopia, but we can choose how to love what truly deserves love. The world is not fair; all we can do is keep moving forward on the path toward fairness.”

“If Dickens lived in today’s England, he would see that society is still controlled by the wealthy graduates of Eton, while the poor survive on expired food and charity clothes. The social divides Dickens described still exist.”

Yvette was trying to climb over the orphanage wall. She no longer wore the white robe symbolizing purity but a black jacket and high-waisted denim shorts. At this moment, she looked no different from a woman seeking solace in a bar due to loneliness. In fact, that was exactly what she planned to do.

“Excuse me, where are you going?” A soft voice startled Yvette.

She continued climbing and, through decorative latticework, saw the source of the voice.

It was a little girl in a white dress a size too large, about eight or nine years old. Despite the wear and tear on her clothes, her natural beauty overshadowed any imperfections. Her porcelain skin framed golden hair, and her starry eyes held the delicate charm unique to children.

The little girl shyly looked at her and, when Yvette met her gaze, mustered courage to speak. “Hello, my name is Junelette Lester. I’m eight years old.”

Yvette remembered her. Junelette Lester was a girl adopted by the orphanage. She had sung hymns with her during the day. Yvette relaxed. “You can call me Sister Yvette, Junelette.”

“Are you going out to play?” In children’s world, exchanging names often sealed friendship. Junelette asked when Yvette did not respond.

Yvette nodded. Her panic eased somewhat. If other orphanage staff saw her, she’d have trouble explaining, but a little girl was easier to handle.

“I am going out to play, but if Sister Friga finds out, I’ll be scolded. Please don’t tell anyone, okay? Let’s keep it our secret.” Yvette leaned down and looked at Junelette, then hesitated before reaching out to touch her.

“Okay, I won’t tell Sister Friga, but you have to promise me one thing.” Junelette nodded, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“What is it?”

“Take me with you.”

It was nearly midnight. Junelette had noticed Yvette sneaking out because she couldn’t sleep. At an age full of curiosity, she didn’t understand why people confessed to a man nailed to a cross, or why the sun rose after sleeping. She had too many questions about the world, so she often stayed up late.

“This isn’t a pretend game. What adults play is very different from your games.” Yvette looked troubled.

“That’s even better! I find pretend games boring. I want to see how adults play.” Junelette’s interest grew.

Yvette hesitated, but Junelette forced her hand. “If you don’t take me, I’ll tell Sister Friga.”

“Alright, alright, but you must promise never to tell anyone about tonight.” Yvette sighed.

Junelette nodded seriously and reached out her hand. Yvette looked puzzled.

“You have to come over and carry me out.” Junelette smiled brightly.

The streets of London were deserted late at night. Though empty, the vastness fascinated Junelette, who had grown up in an orphanage.

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Besides weekly church visits led by the nuns, Junelette had never truly left the orphanage alone. The unfamiliar world unleashed her long-suppressed curiosity.

“What’s that place? Where did all those people go? Are they home sleeping? Do adults have to sleep at night too?” Junelette’s questions never ceased, her excitement at seeing a new world making her seem less like a nine-year-old girl.

“That was a café, but it’s closed now because it’s late. It’s already midnight. Most adults sleep at night, not because of the nuns’ orders but because they feel tired.” Yvette held Junelette’s hand, feeling a strange tenderness toward the curious child. She thought that had she been born a girl, she might have been like her.

“Why are you staring at me?” Junelette looked down, seeing nothing unusual.

“My son would be about your age.” Yvette gently touched her head.

“Are you married?” Junelette asked unexpectedly.

“I was, but we divorced. Why do you ask? Do you know what marriage is?” Yvette looked down at the girl, surprised.

“I do. Sister Friga told me that if I behave well, a man and a woman will take me home to be their child. I asked Sister Friga about their relationship, and she said such a man and woman are married.” Junelette spoke seriously, then added, “So I think only married people can take children from the orphanage and have children of their own.”

“You’re right. I’m divorced, so I don’t have children now.” Yvette stepped into the shadow of a streetlamp, hiding her expression from Junelette.

“Did you get rid of him? Like how I throw away dolls?” Junelette’s eyes showed confusion, sensing a hint of sadness in Yvette.

“Where do you want to go play?” Yvette didn’t answer Junelette’s question. When she stepped back into the light, her face showed no emotion.

Junelette didn’t insist on the previous question but grew more interested in Yvette’s.

“I want to go to the amusement park. I’ve heard it’s lots of fun.” Junelette answered without hesitation.

“I’m sorry, but the amusement park is closed at night. The people who maintain the rides—those who protect the toys—are already asleep.” Yvette tried to explain in terms a nine-year-old could understand.

“Then let’s go to the zoo. I’ve only seen birds, mice, and insects. I want to see animals from books come alive.” Junelette quickly gave her second choice, revealing she had planned her outings as soon as she left the orphanage.

“The animals sleep too.” Yvette refused again.

“Then where can we go play?” Junelette looked a little disappointed, but surprisingly, her enthusiasm soon returned.

Yvette had planned to refuse all Junelette’s requests, take her for a brief walk, tell her the adult world was boring, and then return her to the orphanage. She didn’t want Junelette to like leaving the orphanage with her; otherwise, she’d be asked every day.

“We can walk around the block a couple of times, then go back to the orphanage.” Yvette revealed her plan.

“Where were you planning to go originally?” Junelette asked incredulously.

“I was just going to walk around the block a couple of times. The adult world is that boring.” Yvette lied subtly.

“Alright then.” Junelette agreed.

Every city has its own night. London’s long nights seemed to hold a unique charm. Unlike bustling cities that never sleep, when the night is at its peak, the streets are empty except for wandering poets and madmen. The accordion’s melody is silenced by starlight, and the quiet Thames listens to the bells of Westminster Abbey.