CHAPTER 199: CHAPTER 199: IDENTITY

In the evening, the sky outside gradually took on the hues of dusk.

Jean Ellison was in the kitchen, busy with her apron on.

The exhaust fan emitted a low hum, the spatula and iron wok collided with a crisp clang, accompanied by the sizzling sound of food hitting the hot oil.

On the kitchen counter, several completed dishes were already arranged.

A plate of steamed bass with fine ginger shreds and scallion pieces laid over it, drizzled with light brown soy sauce; its color was bright and vivid.

Beside it was a bowl of braised ribs, rich with saucy spice, the ribs tender and fragrant with tantalizing meat aroma.

There was also a plate of stir-fried broccoli, looking particularly fresh and green.

On the stovetop, a clay pot bubbled away, its steam filling the kitchen with the scent of corn, carrot, and rib soup.

Jean Ellison transferred the last dish, tomato scrambled eggs, into a clean white porcelain plate.

The red and yellow hues appeared particularly tempting.

She turned off the stove, took off her apron, and called toward the living room: "Jesse, wash your hands and come eat."

"Coming, Mommy!"

Jesse’s bright voice responded.

Soon, a little girl in pink loungewear ran into the kitchen, hauling a small stool to reach the faucet, tiptoeing to twist it open, diligently using hand soap to rub her little hands.

Jean Ellison carried the dishes to the dining table in the living room one by one.

The modest dining table was filled to the brim, steaming and fragrant.

She served Jesse a small bowl of rice, and took a bowl for herself.

"Mommy, there’s fish today!" Jesse climbed into her children’s dining chair, eyes lit up as she looked at the dishes on the table.

"Yes, eat more fish to be smart." Jean Ellison picked a piece of fish belly, carefully removed any tiny bones that might be present, then placed it in Jesse’s bowl. "Be careful, it’s hot, eat slowly."

The mother and daughter started eating.

Jesse used a children’s spoon to scoop rice, mixing it with the fish, eating until her cheeks puffed out.

Jean Ellison occasionally added some broccoli and ribs to her plate. Although Jesse wasn’t too keen on vegetables, under her mother’s watchful eye, she obediently ate them.

"Mommy, these eggs are delicious." Jesse pointed at the tomato scrambled eggs and said.

"If you like it, eat more." Jean Ellison smiled, and scooped another spoonful for her.

In the dining room, it was quiet, with only the gentle clanging of cutlery and the sound of chewing.

Warm light fell, illuminating the mother and daughter, outlining a serene and cozy scene.

Jean Ellison watched her daughter eat with delight, her gaze gentle.

For her, this kind of normal yet stable daily life was the greatest happiness.

After dinner, Jean Ellison cleaned up the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher.

Jesse ran to the living room carpet by herself and began playing with her LEGO blocks.

She was concentrating intently on building a pink castle.

Jean Ellison wiped her hands clean, walked to the living room, sat on the sofa next to Jesse, picked up a storybook, prepared to play with her for a while.

Just then, her phone rang.

She picked up her phone and glanced at the screen; it was a video call from Diana Sawyer.

She answered the call, and Diana Sawyer’s gentle face appeared on the screen.

He seemed to be in his study, with a wall of bookshelves in the background.

"Mr. Sawyer," Jean Ellison greeted.

"Have you eaten?"

Diana Sawyer asked, his voice coming through the receiver, carrying his usual kindness.

"Just finished." Jean Ellison turned the phone camera toward Jesse who was playing with blocks, "Jesse, look, who is it."

Jesse looked up, saw Diana Sawyer on the screen, put down the blocks, and obediently went up to the phone, waving her little hand, "Hello, Uncle Sawyer!"

Diana Sawyer’s face on the screen broke into a smile, he looked at Jesse, his voice even softer, "Hello Jesse, did you eat?"

"I did!" Jesse nodded vigorously, "Mommy made fish, and meat, and eggs!"

"Sounds delicious." Diana Sawyer responded with a smile, then looked at Jesse with a sense of natural ease, yet with a hint of subtle solemnity, he said, "Jesse, you should say Daddy, I’m Jesse’s dad."

Jesse’s smile faltered for a moment; she blinked her big eyes somewhat confusedly and then instinctively turned her head towards her mom, Jean Ellison, sitting next to her, her gaze carrying a question.

Jean Ellison looked at her daughter’s puzzled expression, sighed softly in her heart but maintained a calm face, lightly nodding her head clearly at Jesse.

Having received her mother’s confirmation, Jesse then looked back at the phone screen and nodded obediently at the video of Diana Sawyer again, her voice small but clear as she called out, "Daddy."

When the word "Daddy" came out, Diana Sawyer’s smile on the other end of the call seemed to deepen, and his gaze became even kinder.

Jean Ellison’s heart felt as if it was gently pricked by something, a subtle sourness, but more was a complex and indescribable emotion.

She shifted her gaze to the heavy night outside the window.

"Jesse is really good," Diana Sawyer praised.

Jean Ellison asked, "How’s Aunt Mason lately? Is her health still good?"

Diana Sawyer: "Everything’s fine; I’ve hired a nanny to take care of her, and you often visit her after work, which she’s very grateful for. It’s just..."

He paused, "Aunt Mason really misses Jesse and often talks about you, always asking when you two will move back to the United States again."

Jean Ellison fell silent for a moment, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the fabric of the sofa.

"I can’t leave here for now; you know my mom’s health needs care, I have to stay in the country more to accompany her."

"I understand." Diana Sawyer nodded, his tone without pressure, "Taking care of Aunt is important, this matter isn’t urgent, we’ll discuss it later, your and the child’s room in the United States is always ready, you can go back to live anytime."

He paused, his tone becoming slightly more formal, "Additionally, there’s something I’m handling. I’m arranging for Jesse to have an identity, a United States identity, as my daughter."

Jean Ellison was taken aback, surprised: "Handling an identity? Wouldn’t this be too much trouble for you?"

"No trouble." Diana Sawyer’s tone was calm, as if discussing something utterly ordinary, "This is what I should do, Uncle Caldwell is no longer here, I promised him I’d take care of you, giving Jesse a legal, protected identity is basic."

He mentioned Uncle Caldwell, Jean Ellison’s father, Timothy Caldwell, which darkened Jean’s gaze, stirring a complex wave of emotions in her heart.

She bowed her head and softly said, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me." Diana Sawyer’s voice remained gentle, yet carried an undeniable sense of responsibility, "I said, this is what I should do."

He seemed to hesitate for a moment then continued, "For Jesse’s identity, it’s done in the name of my daughter, you don’t have to worry about how it might affect me should I decide to remarry or start a family in the future."

Jean Ellison looked up at the screen.

There wasn’t anything particularly expressive on Diana Sawyer’s face, but his gaze was extraordinarily calm, even possessing a serene understanding: "I haven’t thought about remarrying, likely it will be just like this for this lifetime, alone, but it’s quite alright, now with Jesse it seems there’s more of a focus, I’ll treat her like my own daughter, don’t worry."

His tone was very plain, without deliberately conveying sadness or loneliness, yet precisely this calmness made the sense of determination or perhaps a deeply hidden sense of fatigue more palpable.

The living room was very quiet, only the sound of Diana Sawyer’s steady breathing from the phone and the slight plastic collision sound Jesse made while arranging Lego blocks beside.

Jesse kept quietly sitting next to her mom, seemingly focused on constructing her pink castle, but the adults’ conversation just now, those words about "Daddy," "identity," "marriage," all entered her ears without missing a word.

Her small hand grasped a tiny pink block, movements slowing down. Her long lashes hung low, concealing the emotions in her big eyes. She did not lift her head nor did she speak, only gripped the block more tightly.

She knew.

She knew Uncle Sawyer wasn’t her biological dad.

Though mom never explicitly said, she could feel it.

That feeling was odd, indescribable, but she just knew. That inexplicable sense of closeness and dependency she experienced with Uncle Holden was absent with Uncle Sawyer.

Now, Uncle Sawyer said he would get her an identity, act as her dad, and that he wouldn’t remarry in the future, treating her as his biological daughter.

In her small heart, she held onto these pieces of information that she didn’t fully comprehend but could sense their weight.

Jean Ellison looked at Diana Sawyer’s calm yet determined face across the screen and was momentarily at a loss for words.

Gratitude, guilt, helplessness... a mixture of emotions intertwined.

In the end, she simply repeated once more, "...Thank you."

"Hmm." Diana Sawyer responded, seemingly unwilling to continue the topic, "It’s getting late, you all rest early, give my regards to Aunt."

"Okay, you too, take care of yourself."

The video call ended.

The phone screen went dark, reflecting Jean Ellison’s somewhat distracted face.

She put down the phone, turned her head and saw Jesse still quietly sitting there, with her head down, her small hand repeatedly stroking the half-built pink castle, lost in thought.

"Jesse?" Jean Ellison called softly.

Jesse lifted her head, looking at her mom, no special expression on her face, just obediently asked, "Mom, my castle is almost finished, do you want to see it?"

"Of course." Jean Ellison suppressed the turmoil in her heart, showing a gentle smile, leaning over, "Our Jesse’s castle must be very beautiful."