Chapter 11:

Right now, his intellect is not complete, just like a child.

The man standing next to Demi Moore, strangely looking at her movements, his feet slightly forward; he narrowed his eyes, staring at the computer screen.

"Floatation..." The man twitched his lips, speaking with standard English intonation; Demi Moore turned around, a little strange in her eyes. Is he literate?

She typed a line of words on the screen; the man nodded once. "I know, I know all these words." The man spoke very softly. But it's also confusing; since when do you know? He remembers learning many words in his hazy consciousness, not just these words. He couldn't remember anything.

"So, do you know what your name is?" Demi Moore tries to type one more sentence; the man tilts his head a little; name, name? He already needed to remember. Shaking his head for the things he didn't know before, he only started to remember when he was on the road, penniless, didn't understand anything, and almost died on that rainy day. If it weren't for her, he probably wouldn't exist.

"Whatever you call me, that's what my name is." The man suddenly smiled, revealing two white teeth; although he didn't have a name, she could give it; he wanted this girl to name him.

Did she put it? Demi Moore turned her head, looked at his honest face, and blinked her eyes slightly; she propped her chin, wondering what to name the man who suddenly appeared in her world name; what's the good name?

She looked at the computer, her fingers typing on the keyboard few words, and the screen showed an expression—also, only one term.

"Ace." The man remembers; there are smiles in his eyes as if the sun has just disappeared there; it's hot, his hands are naturally on Demi Moore's shoulders, he is not afraid of strangers, seems to like the name.

"So, what's your name?" He stared hard at the computer screen; Demi Moore felt the temperature of his hand on her shoulder, so warm; she hadn't felt this warm in a long time.

And Demi Moore also began to lose consciousness; what is her name? No one asked for a long time.

She lowered her head and typed a few words quickly.

"Demi Moore." The man carefully read each word, and when he finished reading it, he smiled happily: "My name is the same as your name, my name has the word e, my name also has the word e, later I will be Ace."

After he finished speaking, there was a strange sense of pleasure; he had a name and a sister. But he lowered his head to look at Demi Moore's gentle, broken face; the light from the screen was shining on her face; for a moment, it seemed a bit strange: "Sister, why don't you say a word?" He whispered, wondering; she would never say a word to him except nodding and shaking her head. She is so beautiful; her voice must be charming.

Demi Moore was a little surprised, just staring at the computer screen, the corner of her mouth showing a sour indifference; her voice was gone.

Her hand was slightly clenched, then a few words appeared on the screen.

I can't talk.

And this stupid man, no, from now on, his name is Ace; Ace could see those few words, pursed his beautiful lips, and said nothing; the hand on Demi Moore's shoulder again used his strength to grasp. But very quickly, his eyes curved up like a beautiful new moon.

"It's okay if you can't speak; Ace will be your voice in the future." Ace squinted his beautiful eyes; his tone was a bit innocent, but on his face was also a determination not to lie.

Demi Moore turned her head; at this time, Ace's emotions were in the faint light of the lamp, seemingly carrying some subtle and soft parts; in the vague, she still seemed to see some mysterious details.

She suddenly smiled a little; if Ace's mind is average, he will be excellent, but it's a pity...

Demi Moore closed her computer, compiled yesterday's translation document, smiled at Ace, and pointed a little at his clothes. Although Ace had only realized her, perhaps because his current intellect made their spirits so pure, it could be easy to understand what Demi Moore wanted to express. He was a very clever person in the past.

Ace lowered his head and frowned; actually, he didn't feel any problem with his clothes compared to before. It was much cleaner, and he liked them. It's just that he stomped his feet a little; the feeling of these shoes today is a bit strange, uncomfortable walking in.

Ace excitedly pulled Demi Moore's hand, the corners of his lips curved, making the pale blue eyes seem even more childish.

A tall man followed behind the small overseas girl; although it didn't look very coordinated, it made people feel unspeakable warmth. The sky after the rain became much bluer; it seemed that the air also carried some of yesterday's steam; the man with the beautiful stereoscopic five senses going to this place made a lot of people pay attention; a pretty girl, a handsome guy, this is a perfect picture from looks, but unfortunately the two of them, one is mute, the other is stupid.

Demi Moore wanted to take Ace to buy clothes; she lowered her head to look at her bag, wondering how much sets of money inside she could buy; her money was not much; her salary for the past few months was in here… . She lips a little, then smiles lightly, money can still be earned, but she will feel very guilty if you don't buy new things for him.

He had become like that; she didn't want to make him more condescending.

Demi Moore was silent for a moment, and Ace stood behind her, feeling very bewildered, blinking her eyes, unsure why she had to come to this place.

"Sister, what are we doing here?" He looked around and saw that everyone looked extraordinarily at them in admiration and surprise. But when he heard him call 'sister' that sentence, it immediately turned into contempt and pity, and he instinctively disliked such glances.

Hate, really, really hate.

Coldly glared at the people around, the green eyes suddenly became gloomy, and the handsome face seemed covered with ice and snow, breaking the cold. This kind of indifference is like an emperor standing at the highest place; with just a glance, you can take the fate of others in your hands; just lifting a finger will make them broken bones and flesh.

This is not the look an idiot should have; everyone can't help but gasp. This man is not a fool; they lowered their heads, instinctively feeling scared.

A small hand pulled the man's writing; the warmth transmitted from the palm made the indifference in the man's eyes quickly disappear, the corner of his lips quickly curved up, and a face like a king appeared on his face just now. It is like a brief that blooms and fades, quickly emerging but seemingly never existing.

Demi Moore turned her head and casually glanced at the people next to her; they all knew what they were thinking, but she couldn't protect Ace because she couldn't say. Ace is not an idiot; he just forgot about the past; Ace is brilliant; he knows how to read and write; after all, he is just a child in an adult body.

Just a tiny child, others shouldn't be too strict.

Demi Moore smiled at Ace, smiling so cleanly, fresh, and transparent, with no ridicule in her eyes, making Ace slowly calm down.

'Never mind,' her lips parted, though there was no sound; she knew Ace would understand what she said.

"YES." Nodding his head slightly, coldly looking at the people around him, he didn't know them, so he didn't care what they thought, only Demi Moore, the girl who found him, now she was the only one for him.

Only relative, only sister.

Demi Moore dragged Ace into a clothing store; there were good clothes, regular clothes, and slightly cheap clothes.

Clutching her bag, she raised her head to see the beautiful young salesman's awestruck eyes on Ace. Indeed, when Ace didn't say a word, even standing still in one place made others unable to ignore him, his appearance was too handsome, and his body shape was no different from a model's; it was indeed beautiful qualities that made people look.

But this was just in case he didn't say a word.

"Sister, what are you doing in here? I want to go home; this place is not fun." Ace frowned a bit; he didn't like how these girls looked at him; he always felt it was like his eyes when he saw chicken feet, but he was not a chicken leg, nor did he like making people eat it. He frowned unhappily.

These words have a childish tone of voice and are spoken in a low tone; it feels odd.

As soon as the sales girls heard him, their faces were stiff, a little bit skeptical, looking at the person in front of them; clearly, their appearance was not inferior to any stars; it was unbelievable to think of such a handsome person. There is a problem with the brain.