The bamboo forest rustled in the breeze, accompanied by faint strains of guqin music. Ahead lay pink walls and black tiles, a picturesque scene of bridges over flowing water, pavilions dotting the landscape, winding corridors, and secluded paths. Sitting in a waterside pavilion, Jack held a blue-and-white porcelain teacup, lost in a daze.
Jack had joined Hannah, freshly returned from Miami, as guests at the Reagan family's weekend gathering. Lunch had been an English meal of fish and chips, leaving Jack bemused. As if that weren't enough, Danny had organized an afternoon tea session.
Jack couldn't fathom why they needed to visit Staten Island's botanical garden for tea, but he couldn't refuse the enthusiastic invitation. So, he tagged along with the family.
To his surprise, hidden within the botanical garden was a small Suzhou-style Chinese garden.
The moment Jack stepped through a small circular moon gate and saw the plaque inscribed with "Jixing Garden" in elegant golden traditional Chinese characters, he felt something was off. By the time he realized what was happening, it was as if he had been transported to a serene and poetic world from another era.
"This was my dad's recommendation. He said I'm too hot-tempered, and the tranquil atmosphere here might help me... uh... find some peace. Jack? Jack! Are you okay?"
Danny's voice brought Jack out of his stupor.
"Huh? Oh, I'm fine. It's just been a long time since I've had authentic Chinese green tea. It makes me nostalgic."
Nostalgic wasn't the half of it. Jack's eyes almost welled up with tears. The aroma of Longjing tea, combined with the surrounding scenery, transported him back to a time and place that felt like a different life—a fleeting moment that made his recent experiences seem like nothing more than a dream.
However, the sight of Danny, the brown-haired Westerner beside him, quickly grounded him in reality. And when Hannah appeared in the distance, dressed in a pale pink Song-style hanfu, her blonde hair tied up in an elaborate bun, and holding a delicate round fan, Jack nearly burst out laughing.
Watching her stiffly shuffle her way to the lakeside pavilion, awkwardly curtsying with her hands crossed, Jack struggled to keep a straight face. The sight of the athletic Texan dressed in a bustier, a beizi, and a long pleated skirt was hilariously incongruous, like a scene of Lin Daiyu yanking up a weeping willow.
Even Linda had joined in the fun, donning a Ming Dynasty-style red bridal gown that made her look as if she were about to remarry. She didn't seem to mind the summer heat under the blazing sun.
It turned out this garden wasn't just about providing hanfu for photo ops. The staff included professional stylists who offered full makeup and costume services, along with etiquette lessons.
Though the cultures didn't align, the environment undoubtedly influenced behavior. The tranquility of the rock gardens and pavilions even compelled the usually boisterous Danny to lower his voice when speaking.
"Dad's advice was spot on. I really do feel more at peace here."
"This place is worth revisiting," Jack murmured.
Though the two men were talking about entirely different things, their sentiments unexpectedly aligned.
They spent the afternoon leisurely exploring the small but exquisitely crafted Suzhou-style garden. Jack even learned some interesting tidbits about Jixing Garden.
Covering just over 4,000 square feet, the garden had taken 13 years to complete due to funding issues. Surprisingly, one of its major supporters had been none other than the current President, infamous for his fondness for red ties.
For a moment, Jack couldn't help but wonder if some rumors from his past life might have been true. Could the man really be "one of us"?
---
Hannah, it seemed, had recently developed a passion for costumes. After returning from Staten Island, she ordered a pile of outfits ranging from Tang Dynasty court ladies to Japanese shrine maidens, enjoying her dress-up sessions to the fullest.
Knowing her as a semi-reclusive gamer, Jack didn't mind indulging her hobby. Personally, he found the simpler Japanese yukata more appealing than the intricate hanfu. After all, a single tug...
But the universe didn't let him revel in peace for long. One morning, a phone call summoned Jack to Dana Mozier's office, where an unexpected visitor awaited him.
Michael Westen, with faint scars still visible on his neck, sat across from their boss, lounging with a casual air and legs crossed.
This guy hasn't been kicked out of the CIA yet? Jack blinked in mild surprise, connecting the laid-back figure in front of him with the man he had once dragged out of a Hummer, clutching his neck and barely alive.
"Hey! If it isn't my dear savior! Long time no see, buddy!" Michael, his voice slightly raspier, leaped up from the couch and gave Jack an enthusiastic hug.
Jack awkwardly disentangled himself, scrutinizing Michael's neck like a seasoned surgeon. "Fully recovered? Your voice still sounds a bit off."
"Cough, stop it." Michael swatted Jack's hands away, though his gratitude was genuine.
"Thanks to you. My doctor said if you hadn't acted so quickly, I might have survived but never spoken again. Now my voice just sounds a little different. The ladies say I've got a live Kenny Rogers vibe going on."
"As long as you're fine." Jack gestured for Michael to sit back down and exchanged a sheepish smile with Dana, who watched them like a mother bemused by two overgrown boys.
"So, is the CIA hunting down another drug lord in New York?" Jack asked.
"Half right." Michael pulled a large file folder from his waistband and handed it to Jack. "I'm heading to Morocco soon. I'm just here to deliver a message. The Department of Defense has a mission, and they need a reliable liaison. SEAL Team Six chose you."
"Wait, what?" Jack stared at the folder, hesitating to open it. He glanced at Dana, his face full of questions.
"Don't look at me like that," Dana said. "I only heard about this 20 minutes before you did." She gestured at the folder, urging him to look for answers.
Reluctantly, Jack opened the folder. He didn't want to, knowing it would make refusal difficult, but the mention of SEALs piqued his curiosity. The only SEALs he was familiar with were Jason Hayes and his Bravo Team.
If it was Jason Hayes asking for help, Jack couldn't say no.
------------------
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Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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