Since about two years ago, Xie Guoli had been having persistent stomach and digestive issues.
It wasn’t cancer or a tumor, just small ailments that proved surprisingly stubborn.
Recently, after some herbal treatment, his condition had improved a little—but in the past couple of days, for some reason, it suddenly worsened.
He would feel nauseous after eating, occasionally suffer stomach pains, and sometimes vomit. Yang Ying tried various ways to prepare him soft, palatable meals.
On Sunday, his good friend Li Kun came to visit. Seeing how thin he had become, Li Kun asked with concern, “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing serious, just my old stomach problem,” Xie Guoli replied.
Li Kun sighed, “We’re getting older; all the parts start wearing out.”
Yang Ying brewed tea for both of them. She made a cup of tea for Li Kun in a glass cup and added dried dates and longan to Xie Guoli’s thermos, per the doctor’s advice.
“You two chat; I’ll go cook.”
Li Kun immediately noticed the new thermos on the table. “Oh, a new cup?” he asked.
Xie Guoli smiled proudly. “My son bought it.”
Li Kun laughed heartily, pointing at him: “Look at you, all proud. The old cup wasn’t even worn out yet, and you’re rushing to use a new one.”
Today, Xie Guoli was particularly happy. He openly admitted, “I just wanted to show it off a bit since you came today, make you a little envious.”
Li Kun had once worked at the same factory as Xie Guoli, but later resigned due to some reasons. Now he did odd jobs to make a living. Despite his age, he never married.
Xie Guoli had advised him several times to find someone, but Li Kun just laughed long and said, “I enjoy being free on my own.”
“Xie Guoli, you really make people envious,” he teased. “First, you married Yuan Ningwan, the most beautiful girl around here, and had such a handsome son. Then you married…” He glanced toward the kitchen, “…another beauty. You’ve had all the good things in life.”
Xie Guoli laughed, waving his hand, chatting more animatedly with his old friend.
Xie Yucheng came home to grab something, parking his motorcycle outside the yard. Inside, the little chick in the cage was flapping its wings. He glanced toward the kitchen, seeing only Yang Ying there.
Yang Ying frowned slightly at his sudden return, annoyed. Why had he been coming home so often lately?
Walking into the living room, he saw Li Kun and raised an eyebrow, smirking lazily. “Oh, Uncle Li, what an honor! Sorry for the poor welcome.”
Li Kun’s sharp eyes lit up, pointing at him. “This kid, always so slick.”
“Learned from you, Uncle Li, but not even a fraction as good as you,” Xie Yucheng joked.
Li Kun pretended to get up to hit him, but Xie Yucheng dodged and slipped inside.
After a while, he came out again with something in hand.
Seeing him about to leave in a hurry, Xie Guoli said, “Not eating at home? Your Uncle Li is here; have a drink with him.”
Xie Yucheng glanced at the open door to the next room, noticing the familiar small figure missing. He clicked his tongue and said, “Fine, I’ll drink.”
Yang Ying placed a freshly cooked dish on the dining table. Xie Guoli asked, “Shi Qing isn’t coming home for lunch?”
“She’s been out the past couple of days, saying she’s visiting classmates. But which classmates? I guess it’s that Zhou Chen she went on a blind date with last time.”
Xie Yucheng had a cigarette dangling in his mouth and tried to light it, failing twice, muttering in frustration, tempted to throw the broken lighter away.
Just as Yang Ying set the meal, a sprightly girl burst into the yard, sweat on her forehead.
“Nannan, why are you back now?”
Xie Yucheng’s gaze slid past, and he suddenly locked eyes with her before both subtly looked away.
“I came home for lunch,” Wen Shiqing said, washing her face at the well.
She had picked up some tutoring work from classmates in the past two days to earn pocket money. She didn’t want Yang Ying controlling her or to live off Xie Guoli’s salary like a parasite. Now that she had graduated, financial independence was her first step toward freedom.
Her hair wet, a few droplets clung to her delicate, fresh face. She dabbed them off with a towel and sat at the dining table, setting down her bag.
She politely greeted Li Kun: “Uncle Li.”
Li Kun teased her, “The little girl gets prettier as she grows.” She smiled faintly, lowering her head to pick up some food.
Xie Guoli and Li Kun chatted casually. Since Xie Guoli didn’t drink, Xie Yucheng sat beside him, having a few cups of strong liquor.
Wen Shiqing sat with Yang Ying on her left and Xie Yucheng on her right. Beside him, she always felt tiny, like a little gourd—he towered over her whether standing or sitting.
Sometimes, she thought he must secretly eat well to grow so tall.
He exuded an imposing aura, his dominant masculine energy beside her impossible to ignore.
While eating, her leg would accidentally brush against his trousers.
Looking down, she saw his long legs bent under slightly loose dress pants, revealing firm thigh muscles. She withdrew her gaze and silently moved her chair closer to her mother.
During the meal, Xie Yucheng’s brow twitched subtly at one moment, then relaxed.
The dining table was large. The dish Wen Shiqing loved—sweet and sour ribs—was far away. When guests were present, she never got up to take it, merely watching it like a greedy little cat from her spot.
While drinking with Uncle Li, Xie Yucheng subtly slid the plate of ribs closer to her when Yang Ying went to refill their bowls.
He had done this many times before.
Xie Guoli noticed but said nothing.
The girl blushed lightly, quietly taking a piece of rib and putting it in her mouth.
She wanted a spoon for her rice soup, but before she could find one, the man seemed to sense it, providing a small spoon at her bowl without looking.
He chatted with Uncle Li while effortlessly handling these small gestures.
She poured a few spoonfuls of the rib sauce over her rice, mixed it, and scooped a large bite.
Her cheeks puffed out, eating like a content little hamster.
After lunch, Uncle Li sat briefly before taking his leave.
Seeing Xie Yucheng back home, Yang Ying took the chance to say, “Yucheng, your father’s stomach has been acting up again these past few days. Tomorrow we plan to go to the big hospital in the city.”
Xie Yucheng glanced at his father, concern flickering in his brow. “I’ll go with you.”
Xie Guoli shook his head. “Focus on your work. Let Yang Ying take me; that’s enough.”
He poured out the tea from the new thermos, rinsed it, and stored it, taking out the old one for continued use.
“I’m not busy. I’ll go with you.”
Xie Guoli still refused, waving his hand. “It’s nothing serious. Let’s just consider it a little outing with Yang Ying to relax.”
“Fine,” Xie Yucheng relented.
He packed a couple of clothes and rode off on his motorcycle.
Yang Ying, knowing he rarely came home in the past two years, was much more at ease.
That night, she handed Wen Shiqing some money and tickets, explaining about milk powder for breakfast, pre-bought egg cakes and small breads in the cupboard, and suggesting buns from a new shop on East Street.
She also advised on meals at the state-run restaurant and warned not to eat too much at night—too chubby wasn’t pretty for a young lady.
After a long lecture, Wen Shiqing, exhausted, yawned and protested, “Mom, I know! I’m not a kid anymore. You and Uncle Xie go worry-free.”
Yang Ying, at the door, remembered something and asked, “Nannan, how are things with that Zhou boy?”
Her gaze drifted to the expensive watch on her daughter’s wrist, lips curling slightly, waiting for her to confess.
Wen Shiqing knew her mother’s calculation: if she said “no” or hadn’t dated him, her mother would nag endlessly and continue arranging blind dates. So she lied simply, “It’s okay.”
Seeing that her daughter didn’t want to mention the watch Zhou Chen gave her, Yang Ying didn’t press.
“I’m telling you, his parents are both officials. I checked; their family is wealthy. And it’s just this one son—make sure you hold onto him. Don’t wait till later; you’ll only get bad matches then.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, closing the door and sending her mother off.
The next morning, Yang Ying and Xie Guoli set off through the morning mist. At the gate, Yang Ying suddenly remembered something, slapped her head, and ran back inside.
She came out holding Xie Guoli’s thermos.
“You, always so forgetful,” he laughed.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” she said, and the two linked arms affectionately as they left.