Normally, the only times you saw your father was every other birthday, where he only came to celebrate for the day before going back abroad.

After your mother's death, you had to go move to Beijing, barely able to speak Chinese well as you started living with Wu Jiang. You were still grieving at the time but he was too, he just never let you see it.

No matter how distant he acts, he loves you dearly. His flower.

"How was school, xiǎohuā?" He asked, looking at you from his desk as he worked.