29 Sick With a Fever

The next day, she was informed that the Chinese guest had returned from outside and was resting in the guest room.

Alice felt something was not right with her body, she seemed a bit lightheaded and cold all over, even though she had not turned up the conditioner too low last night. She could only try not to pay attention to her health and absolutely wouldn't consider taking a day off like last time.

This was work, not school. If one wanted to skip class to watch movies or go shopping, no one would ask too much. If one didn't want to work, she would bring a lot of trouble and pressure to other colleagues.

She was too tired and lacked the energy to prepare anything else. After simply arranging herself in front of the mirror, she went to the door.

Alice arrived early in the lobby to wait for the Chinese guest, asking the waiter for a cup of coffee, feeling better. Looking up, she saw the old Chinese man she had seen the night before, wearing a red plaid shirt and accompanied by John's assistant, Peter, walking over, and greeting him quickly.

Alice introduced herself as a history major, and Shaw Jin examined her closely, his response surprising her: "A person who is proficient in history and engaged in modern management is truly rare."

She smiled silently and said "Thank you," then got into the car.

The car was warm inside, and she had a headache but tried to find the right words from learned professional terms to deal with the guest.

The old man seemed to be extremely interested in history. The ancient ruins they were driving to were located very far outside the city, and generally no one went there to see them.

When they arrived, they were greatly disappointed. The archaeological site seemed to have been abandoned for a long time, and they finally found a staff member, who replied, "This isn't a tourist spot."

Alice watched from the side, feeling a sense of desolation in her heart and indescribable pain, but could only helplessly look at a large expanse of uneven ground, finding it hard to imagine that this was one of the origins of the American.

Suddenly, she remembered when she took history classes before, whenever Mike talked about American history, his gentle voice would unconsciously rise, and a gleam would pass through his eyes as if he was talking about the goddess he admired--he was always like that, a bit like an old-fashioned intellectual, willing to be lonely and poor.

If he lived in ancient times, his ambition would make him a wise prime minister or a skilled doctor." Thinking of this, she smiled silently.

Jin's expression wasn't one of dissatisfaction, but his thin figure and expression made it hard to understand, turning to her and saying. Let's go to the museum"

Where was the museum?

She said with some difficulty, "The museum for this site has not been built yet. How about going to the city museum? Many valuable cultural relics are displayed there."

There was silence in the car. On the way here, Jin had been talking to her about their Chinese culture. The 5,000-year-long civilization was a source of pride for every Chinese.

Their history made the old man so proud. But when he mentioned the loss of ancient artifacts in America, Jin felt sorry and angry. It's really embarrassing for Alice to respond to whatever.

Entering the museum, they immediately found a professional guide, and Alice and Peter followed behind. I just happened to walk in front of copies from the Song Dynasty, "Five-Colored Parrot" by Emperor Huizong of Song. "You Americans really suck."

The young guide was explaining the change from male to female in Buddhist teachings, and he froze on the spot.

It was an old topic, Alice thought coldly, it seemed that she didn't need some coffee to clear up all at once. America's faith was indeed very different from that of foreigners. She had always admitted that, so she shifted her gaze to Jin.

But she found he had turned his gaze back to the "Five-Colored Parrot", as if he wasn't waiting for an answer.

She leaned slightly against the column of the exhibition hall, closing her eyes for a moment. Peter gently touched her, "Miss Smith, your face looks a bit pale. Are you sick with a fever?"

Alice made a joke, "The makeup is too thin."

They caught up with the two in front, and Jin frowned at one American painting. And complained, "Do you Americans really have faith? "

"Mr. Shaw Jin, our faith, in a large part, is our own history. Please don't doubt that. We don't have a specific five-thousand-long history —but we have our own gods to prove our benevolence and righteousness, and it doesn't hinder us from establishing a completely different civilization system from yours."

She paused and continued with a slight hint of irony, "Your long history has taught you how to distinguish right from wrong and how to be humble and polite. There is a lot of evidence that can prove whether Americans have faith or not. Of course, in our hearts, this doesn't even need to be proven."

She finished speaking in one go, surprising herself and feeling a bit deflated--who knew why she would get so angry?

Jin paused for two seconds, his gaze carrying a hint of strangeness, not replying. For the rest of the time, he just listened and watched, not interrupting anymore.

It turned out he had to catch an afternoon flight. Alice breathed a sigh of relief, the car had already arrived at the hotel, and she got out first. John was standing in the lobby with a smile.

She quickly stepped aside, and John extended his hand to Jin, unintentionally touching her hand. He couldn't help but slow down for a few seconds, looking back at her.

Alice avoided his gaze, "Mr. Williams, I need to go now, I feel quite bad." Also bidding farewell to Jin, she felt she couldn't hold on anymore, and slowly walked towards the office.