He rubbed his fingers together and explained in a low voice, "Little Ford is currently the only one in the country who has mastered all five types of triple jumps before the age of 16. It's said he's already practicing the 3A. He's trained in tango and has great expressiveness. He was originally supposed to be sent to this year's World Junior Championships."

Just like Liam Sullivan is the only men's singles skater in the country who can hold his own even in international senior competitions, Ethan Ford is also the only one who can stand tall in the international junior circuit as the top junior skater.

But now, Ethan Ford suffered a serious injury during the competition. For a moment, Jack Bolton mentally counted all the junior men's singles skaters he knew—several who had mastered all five types of triple jumps were already 18 or 19, and any older would exceed the age limit for juniors, but none of them had good expressiveness.

The talent pool is still too thin. It's so hard to produce decent athletes, and yet every one of them is plagued by injuries.

Jack Bolton felt stifled, but when he saw his eldest nephew's worried eyes, he relaxed a little.

Luckily, he had a promising kid right at hand. As long as this boy is properly trained, he could be sent out to compete in at most two years.

Chris Bolton was unaware of his uncle's urgency. When leaving, he stood on one foot, held onto his uncle's arm, and bowed to thank Dr. Quinn and Ms. Miller.

Polite and good-looking children are always likable. Even the usually stern Ms. Miller smiled at Chris Bolton. When it was time to say goodbye to Emily Quinn, this Brother reached out his hand, with a purple-wrapped candy in his palm.

Chris Bolton also extended his hand, with a Xu Fuji crispy candy in his palm.

Emily Quinn was momentarily stunned, took the candy, and saw the boy's eyes curve into a bright, lively smile, full of joy.

"Brother, now we're candy-swapping friends."

This teenager's features were delicate and spirited, and even his smile was full of vitality. For a moment, Emily Quinn almost thought the drab walls of the old apartment hallway had brightened, and his mood lifted as well.

Emily Quinn didn't like children, feeling that those younger than him, or even some peers, were too childish and noisy. But Chris Bolton was an exception—he enjoyed spending time with this kid.

Two days later, someone rang the doorbell. Emily Quinn went to open the door and saw Chris Bolton standing on one foot at the entrance, wearing tiger pajamas, a Lei Feng hat on his head, a backpack on his back, and a bag in his hand. He looked up and smiled, speaking familiarly.

"Mr. Quinn, I'm here for moxibustion again."

Then Chris Bolton saw the other party ask a completely unrelated question in surprise: "Who bought your clothes?"

"Huh?" Chris Bolton tilted his head. "My mom bought them? I'm a tiger in the zodiac, and it's cold outside. This outfit is warm, so I didn't change before going out."

Winters in the Northeast are terrifying. When Chris Bolton goes out, he wishes he could wrap himself up like a bear. Image is secondary—he's just a kid, so there's no need to worry about appearances for now. Staying warm is most important.

At this moment, Old Dr. Quinn poked his head out from behind his grandson. "Oh, you're a tiger in the zodiac? No wonder you get along with Emily—he's a dog in the zodiac. The internet says these two signs are the most compatible. Did you come here alone?"

Chris Bolton replied obediently, "Yes, my uncle had to go to Beijing for training, so I just came by myself. It's only a two-minute walk from the bus stop anyway."

Chris Bolton raised the bag in his hand. "Mr. Quinn, my mom asked me to bring some marinated dishes. Can you let me in first?"

Emily Quinn finally stepped aside. Old Dr. Quinn took the marinated dishes from Chris Bolton's hand and, seeing the child still limping, quickly nudged his grandson.

"He still can't walk—go help him."

Emily Quinn responded and picked the child up around the waist. Chris Bolton tensed up instinctively in surprise, and was still a bit dazed when he was set down on the sofa.

Wow, did he just experience the first princess carry of his two lifetimes? Although he used to resist fanservice in his previous life, because Emily Quinn was carrying him like a child, Chris Bolton didn't feel any aversion at all.

Old Dr. Quinn put away the marinated dishes, picked up the medicine box, came over, and pinched Chris Bolton's ankle, saying slowly, "You still can't walk. How about this: the day after tomorrow, I'll have Emily pick you up."

"Isn't that a bit much?" Chris Bolton felt a little embarrassed.

Old Dr. Quinn waved his hand. "It's fine. He just stays at home all day watching 'The Lancet.' You keep Emily's Brother company, don't let him get moldy. Just think of it as helping Grandpa out."

Chapter 8 Gift

Two days later, Emily Quinn came to pick up Chris Bolton. Under Deborah Foster's watchful gaze, Chris Bolton lay on Young Quinn's shoulder as he was carried downstairs. Occasionally, when he looked back, he could see his little brother peeking worriedly from behind the window.

He waved to that side, then turned and wrapped his arm around Emily Quinn's shoulder, saying, "Mr. Quinn, did you know? My little brother measured his height early, and he's already 1.45 meters tall."

Emily Quinn replied casually, "How old is he?"

"Nine."

"That's pretty good for nine."

Young Quinn adjusted Chris Bolton's thigh, and Chris Bolton instinctively sucked in a breath. Emily Quinn looked down and immediately realized something was wrong.

Good upbringing had made him used to using "gentleman hands" when interacting with people. For example, if a girl fell nearby, he would help her by the arm, but would never put his hand around her shoulders or waist.