chapter 9
Chapter 9
Ever since I was ‘enlightened’ by Cheng Yubai, I never helped those pretty sisters deliver their love letters again.
I had no choice-there were just too many things that could be taken away from me. The simple fact that I no longer had ready-made meals was enough to make me lower my once proud head.
Day by day, time went on.
For the final exam of the first semester of fifth grade, I ranked first in the whole class. It was the first time I’d ever gotten a perfect score in math. When Dad saw my report card, he was overjoyed and immediately granted me a wish, saying he’d give me whatever I wanted.
I thought for a moment, then looked at him and said, “Dad, can you spend some time with me? You’re always away on business, and I miss you.”
Hearing this, Dad’s eyes reddened, and he nearly burst into tears.
“All right.”
He pulled me into his arms. “Whatever my daughter says goes. For the next few days, I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay at home with you.”
Dad meant what he said.
For the next few days, he really didn’t go out, choosing instead to stay home and keep me company.
He made braised pig trotters for me, and we sat together on the battered old sofa watching Journey to the West. After watching TV, he would take me to the gate of the middle school to wait for Cheng Yubai to finish his evening self-study. On the way, he’d buy me some street-side fried skewers as a snack.
Dad bought them in secret, and I ate them in secret too.
Cheng Yubai didn’t like us eating that kind of food. He always thought street food wasn’t as nutritious or clean as what he made himself.
But how could we resist the delicious smell!
Dad and I simply couldn’t hold back. Again and again, we snuck out behind his back to indulge in fried skewers.
Every time we finished our little secret feast, we’d check each other’s mouths for any trace of chili powder or stray oil spots on our clothes, just in case Cheng Yubai found out.
But maybe it’s true that you don’t cherish something once you have it. After eating fried skewers for several days in a row, I suddenly lost all interest in them; they became greasy and made me queasy.
When Dad offered to buy me fried skewers again, I turned him down, barely interested.
-I wanted to eat Cheng Yubai’s steamed perch instead.
On the way home, I mentioned it in passing, and the very next day, that dish was set on the table.
Cheng Yubai used his half-day weekend to cook for me.
At the dining table, Dad and I ate with deep satisfaction, but Cheng Yubai didn’t touch his chopsticks.
He has a keen sense of smell, and never got used to river fish-he always thought they had an earthy, muddy taste. But seeing us eat so happily, his mood was quite good.
Switching to another pair of chopsticks, he meticulously picked through the fish, removing the bones before placing the tender meat into Dad’s and my bowls. His movements were attentive and patient.
For a moment, the atmosphere at the table was perfectly harmonious.
After dividing up the fish, Cheng Yubai switched back to his original chopsticks, took a bite of rice at a leisurely pace, chewed a few times, then swallowed. He said mildly, “No matter how tasty outside food may be, it can’t compare to home-cooked meals… Don’t you agree, Dad?”
No sooner had he finished than Dad choked a little.
Mumbling a vague response, Dad quickly lowered his head to eat, as if he wanted to bury his whole face in his bowl.
I was too naïve then, unable to pick up on the hidden meaning behind his words.
Hearing Cheng Yubai say that, my weariness for fried skewers instantly resurfaced. I hurriedly nodded in agreement, “Exactly! Food from outside isn’t tasty at all-it gets sickening so quickly.”
Dad buried his head even lower.
Cheng Yubai shot me a sidelong glance, his eyes drifting lightly over me, but his words landed like a ton of bricks: “So Manman actually knows whether outside food tastes good, and whether you get sick of it easily… What, have you tried it?”
My expression froze.
After meeting his gaze for two seconds, I grabbed my rice bowl and buried my face in it, shoveling rice into my mouth as fast as I could.
Cheng Yubai didn’t say anything else.
He didn’t eat much that meal, but Dad and I ate until we were stuffed.
We dared not put down our bowls.
Not at all.