Among those who frequently visited the library, the most special was Jonathan.
He was Evelyn's older brother, not very tall and even a bit thin. His appearance was worlds apart from his sister's—it was hard to tell they were born of the same mother. Mori Tsukisa had even maliciously speculated and asked indirect questions about it.
However, Evelyn said she had thought about this question when she was twelve, and had even tried to prove to her parents that Jonathan wasn't her biological brother by pointing out that they 'painted differently' and'sat differently while eating.'
During a chance joke, she remembered Mr. William's words—he was her mother's business partner, quite old but childless.
'Since Little Eve doesn't like Jonathan, why not let him be my Child? How about it?' The man had crouched before Evelyn, his handsome face full of teasing and banter. It was a sentence everyone knew was a joke, and her mother had chimed in from the side: 'Yes, if you don't like your brother, Mama will let Mr. William take him away.'
Then, this sentence remained buried in the little girl's heart, slowly fermenting in her young mind.
Until the evening of a certain holiday—at the dinner table were Jonathan, Evelyn, their father and mother, their grandparents, and... over a dozen friends and relatives who had come to celebrate.
Amidst the scent of cinnamon mixed with the crisp aroma of wine, Evelyn had shouted, 'Jonathan isn't Daddy's biological son! Mama said he's her and William's Child!' Then, waving her little hands, she wove through the dozen or so people, repeatedly shouting the words she had adapted through her own understanding.
'Jonathan is Mama and William's Child!'
The guests at the table gave them very strange looks.
Later, Evelyn told Mori Tsukisa that it was the first time in her life she had been beaten, and it was a 'mixed doubles' effort from both parents.
But strangely, as the girl grew up day by day, she never saw Mr. William again in the following years... Mori Tsukisa felt that Evelyn's beating hadn't been for nothing.
In any case, this donkey-faced, buck-toothed guy with thick eyebrows and an oily manner was Evelyn's brother.
Jonathan.
A wine fountain bubbled in the center of the open-air hall, and a rich scent of tropical summer fruits filled the restaurant. This two-story building, constructed with square, staggered rotations, was considered the largest and most luxurious restaurant in Cairo.
Golden champagne was served in slender, transparent glass flutes, making a clinking sound as they touched. Happy gentlemen and ladies gathered in pairs. Some slightly tipsy couples, supporting each other, walked to the center of the open-air area and began to sway intimately to a piece by Mozart or something similar.
Mori Tsukisa, wearing a light gray cocktail dress, sat leisurely in a corner. Her emerald-colored nails brushed across the spotless white tablecloth as her eyes fixed on the flamboyant Jonathan nearby.
The man clearly had no idea that disaster was imminent.
"Seven Stones Winery, I like their red wine." The man had a pocket square in his chest pocket, which, combined with his wild donkey-face, made one want to laugh.
Standing before Jonathan was a slightly shorter woman—a very young girl with a swan-like neck and shoulders, holding a champagne flute between her slender fingertips.
"Mouthfeel, intuition—these are the secrets of tasting."
"Did you know? The vibrations brought by classical and country music are different. If they studied it—I mean Seven Stones Winery—they would surely understand that classical music is the most suitable for brewing wine."
Jonathan spoke nonsense, his non-stop mouth and poorly imitated hand gestures attempting to attract the lady before him.
"Afawaf, believe me, I understand these slippery, sweet little things all too well."
Mori Tsukisa sighed helplessly and speared a piece of steak into her mouth.
"Jonathan... I..." Afawaf lowered her head with a bit of self-consciousness: "I can't go with you..."
"I know, local customs, damn traditions." Jonathan shrugged, his long face twitching a few times, then elegantly pulled out the pocket square and handed it to Afawaf: "Wipe your eyes, don't cry. If my sister knew I made a beautiful lady cry, I'm afraid I'd have to scrub mummy coffins for a month."
"Pfft!" Afawaf broke into a laugh through her tears: "A sister like that sounds very interesting. Does she work at the museum?"
"Of course, the largest one in the area." Jonathan stood tall, unconsciously revealing the information.
As night fell, the restaurant remained brightly lit. The difference was that most people had been drinking.
The gradually rising music made everyone start to feel amorous toward the person in front of them. One by one, they intimately linked arms and danced or embraced on the open-air plaza. Before long, the number of couples decreased.
After all, the back half of this restaurant was a high-end hotel.
This was what you called a wealth tycoon who had mastered the chain reaction.
Mori Tsukisa had eaten enough. She picked up her champagne and finished it in one gulp, smacked her lips, used a small handkerchief to dab the corners of her mouth, and then stood up, lifting her gauze skirt as she walked down.
"Winemakers are all like this, spending their whole lives in a battle of wits with wine..."
A man and a woman were embracing, dancing to the gentle music. Mori Tsukisa entered the floor, lifting her skirt while dodging the swaying crowd.
"It's something that seeps in from the soil, the air, the liquid—I'm not sure what its scientific name is. After all, I'm not one of those boring, humorless, stiff-faced scientists."
"But I suspect, I suspect it must be the case..."
"Jonathan."
Mori Tsukisa's clear, cold voice gave the man a start.
He suddenly turned around and found Mori Tsukisa standing behind them with her arms crossed, staring at him expressionlessly.
"Ah, Little Forest, are you here to taste red wine too?"
"Then you're just in time. Who knew today was a tasting event?"
"Evelyn wants you back early. Also, she told me to watch out for your 'little tricks'." Mori Tsukisa walked over, and the two instinctively separated their joined palms.
"Hello, I am Afawaf." The woman was about the same height as Mori Tsukisa—or rather, Mori Tsukisa was just that short. She had peach blossom eyes that were charming and mature, and her voice had a unique huskiness.
Mori Tsukisa greeted her with a slight smile, then turned her head and raised an eyebrow: "Dear Brother Jonathan, it's time for you to go."
"What, time to go? I haven't finished talking about wine with Afawaf—"
Mori Tsukisa stared at him with a smile.
Jonathan:..."Oh, I should go." The man scratched his neck, nodded apologetically to Afawaf, and ran out of the restaurant, stumbling along with Mori Tsukisa.
The night in Cairo was divided into small squares; some places were bustling with excitement, while others were silent and still.
Most of the lively areas were those frequented by many foreigners. They stayed up at night, singing and dancing or putting up long banners, building something in the open spaces.
Of course, the construction workers were all locals.
"Hey, I wasn't done having fun yet."
Once out of the restaurant, Jonathan was still slightly dissatisfied.
"Eve told me to bring you back. I don't care if your 'little tricks' are discovered and the Police poke you in the rear with their batons before throwing you into prison like a dead dog."
At the mention of 'little tricks', Jonathan smiled sheepishly. "My sister?"
"Eve said it. I couldn't care less about you." Mori Tsukisa crossed her arms and left Jonathan behind, walking forward huffily.
She hadn't even eaten her fill because she had to keep an eye on Jonathan.
"Hey, Little Forest, my sister doesn't understand anything. A young girl who likes history, likes Egypt, likes those strange scripts... Oh," the man looked at Mori Tsukisa: "I forgot, you're the same way."
Mori Tsukisa stopped and held out her palm.
"What?" Jonathan looked at the girl's empty palm.
"The item." Mori Tsukisa tilted her head. "Did you really just go there to dance?"
"Or do you think I didn't see it?"
Jonathan grinned stiffly, his hand slowly reaching into the lining of his suit, skillfully pulling out a...
The wallet.
"I knew it."
Mori Tsukisa rolled her eyes speechlessly.
"You really don't waste any opportunity to practice your little hobby, Mr. Jonathan."
Jonathan looked at Mori Tsukisa humbly, his long face full of flattery.
"Don't tell Eve, Little Sen, we'll go fifty-fifty."
Mori Tsukisa didn't say anything. She took the wallet from him and opened it—inside was a photo of a man, a few banknotes, a key hidden in a crevice, and two tickets for a future date.
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