“By the way, Qingyu,” her mother suddenly spoke up, “the Pei family would like to invite you to dinner tomorrow evening.”
Shen Qingyu was taken aback.
“So soon?”
“Oh, it’s not soon at all. Now that you’re back, of course you should meet them. It’s just a simple dinner to get acquainted—no need to feel pressured.”
Shen Qingyu remained silent.
“Pei Huaijin’s mother, your Aunt Lin, you met her when you were little. She even held you. Do you remember?” her mother continued.
“I don’t.”
Manlin Jiang went on, “Oh, she’s such a wonderful person, very gentle. We’ve been friends for so many years, and I’ve never seen her lose her temper with anyone. You’ve seen Pei Huaijin’s photo, right? Handsome, isn’t he? Let me tell you, he’s even more handsome in person.”
Shen Qingyu gazed out the window without responding.
“Qingyu?”
“I heard,” she said. “Tomorrow evening, right?”
“Yes, seven o’clock tomorrow night, at the Pei family’s private club. The setting is lovely.”
Shen Qingyu hummed in acknowledgment.
As the car continued forward, her mother started talking about other things—what name Aunt Liu had given to that stray cat, how her father had lost a bit of weight from exhaustion lately, and how they could visit the newly opened mall in Jingbei.
Shen Qingyu listened, her gaze fixed on her own reflection in the car window.
Tomorrow evening, she would meet Pei Huaijin.
She recalled the cold, distant eyes in his photo.
Eyes that reminded her of someone else.
She shook her head, quickly pushing away the unwelcome thought.
Just a coincidence.
There were plenty of people in the world who looked alike.
The car stopped in front of a villa.
Aunt Liu was already waiting at the entrance. When she saw Shen Qingyu step out of the car, her eyes reddened.
“Qingyu is back!” she hurried over, looking her up and down. “You’ve lost weight, so much weight. Were you not eating properly abroad?”
“Aunt Liu, I haven’t lost weight…”
“Nonsense, look at your little face.” Aunt Liu took her hand, her heart aching. “Come inside, it’s cold out. I made your favorite soup—drink a couple of bowls to nourish yourself.”
Shen Qingyu was led inside by her, and as soon as she entered, she was greeted by the familiar aroma of home-cooked food. The sweet and sour scent of braised pork ribs, the savory fragrance of shrimp with garlic vermicelli, and the delicate aroma of corn and pork rib soup blended together—it was the taste of home from her memories.
“Go wash your hands first, we’ll eat right away.” Aunt Liu nudged her toward the bathroom. “Your mother said you probably didn’t eat properly on the plane. You must be starving, right?”
Shen Qingyu washed her hands, smiled at her reflection in the mirror, then dried them and walked out.
The dining table was already laden with her favorite dishes, leaving almost no room for more. Yet Aunt Liu was still bustling around in the kitchen, saying she just needed to stir-fry one more vegetable dish.
“Qingyu, sit down quickly.” Her mother served her a bowl of soup. “Drink some soup first to warm your stomach, then eat.”
Shen Qingyu sat down and picked up the bowl of soup.
The sweetness of the corn and the savory richness of the pork ribs warmed her from her stomach to her limbs as she drank.
Suddenly, she felt like crying.
Every time she video-called home while abroad, she would smile brightly, saying she was doing well, that everything was fine, and not to worry about her.
But at this moment, sitting at the dining table she had grown up with, drinking Aunt Liu’s soup, and listening to her mother chatter about everyday matters, she realized just how much she had missed home.
“Is it good?” Aunt Liu emerged from the kitchen with the final dish, looking at her expectantly.
“It’s delicious,” Shen Qingyu nodded. “Especially good, Aunt Liu, your skills are absolutely unmatched.”
Aunt Liu smiled until her eyes narrowed into slits. “If it’s good, drink more. I’ll make it for you again tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Aunt Liu.”
“Good child, no need to be so polite with me.”
Shen Qingyu ate her meal, listening to her mother and Aunt Liu chat, occasionally chiming in with a word or two.
The memory of that night was temporarily pushed to the deepest part of her heart.
.
It wasn’t until nine in the evening that her father returned.
When Shen Huaiting entered, Shen Qingyu was curled up on the sofa watching TV, while her mother flipped through a fashion magazine beside her.
“Dad, you’re back,” Shen Qingyu stood up.
Shen Huaiting stood at the entrance, looking at his daughter, and paused for a moment.
Then he walked over and patted her shoulder.
“It’s good that you’re back,” he said, his voice a bit hoarse. “You’ve lost weight.”
“Mom said I lost weight, Aunt Liu said I lost weight too,” Shen Qingyu laughed. “Did you all plan this?”
Shen Huaiting also smiled, but his eyes were slightly red. He turned his face away, cleared his throat, and said, “The case I’m handling is just too busy. I originally wanted to take you out for Japanese food tonight—the one you loved most as a child.”
“Mom told me.”
“That restaurant is still open. The owner still remembers you. Every time your mom and I go, he asks when you’ll be back.”
Listening to this, Shen Qingyu’s heart softened.
She knew her father had never been the type to express emotions. Growing up, her mother was responsible for nagging and caring, while her father was responsible for earning money and staying silent. But at this moment, she could understand the unspoken words in her father’s reddened eyes.
At ten in the evening, Shen Qingyu lay in bed in her own room.
The room was exactly the same as when she left. The books on the shelf were still the same, and a photo from her high school days still sat on the nightstand. The curtains were a light pink her mother had chosen for her. She loved them as a child but later thought they were tacky, yet her mother never changed them, insisting, “What’s tacky about them? They suit you perfectly.”
Indeed, now she thought they looked nice again.
She turned over and picked up her phone.
There was a new message on WeChat from her mother.
“Qingyu, rest well tonight. Don’t overthink tomorrow’s dinner. Just treat it as making a friend.”
Shen Qingyu looked at the message and smiled.
Her mother was urging her into an arranged marriage while also saying, “Don’t overthink it.”
She placed her phone on the nightstand and closed her eyes.
Sleepiness gradually washed over her.
In her drowsy state, the image of that man flashed through her mind again.
Shen Qingyu irritably turned over, burying her face in the pillow.
What was this? Why did she keep thinking of him at every turn?
One misstep leads to eternal regret…