It wasn’t until father and son got back inside that they discovered Zhang Hong was already home.
By unspoken agreement, neither of them mentioned the birthday. One went off to the kitchen to help wash vegetables; the other sat down on the sofa with his phone.
Perhaps because Wang Yuxin was there, dinner that evening was as lavish as ever.
But Xu Ye had eaten a great deal of junk food while they were out that afternoon, so he managed only half a bowl of rice.
Seeing her son “off his food,” Zhang Hong assumed there was something wrong with her cooking and asked several times over, “Did I forget the salt? Is it too bland?”
Wang Yuxin, sharp little thing that she was, spotted the problem and explained quickly. “Dà yí, Xu Ye-gege took me out this afternoon and we ate a lot of snacks and desserts, so we’re not very hungry.”
“That explains it.” Zhang Hong muttered, half to herself, “And here I was thinking my cooking had gone off.”
Xu Ye laid on the flattery at once. “Never. Everyone knows my mom’s cooking is second to none.”
Zhang Hong gave his arm a light slap. “Smooth-talker,” she said, scolding and laughing at the same time. “Heaven knows which side of the family you got that from.”
Old Xu laughed straight away. “From me, obviously.”
“Oh, please,” Zhang Hong said. “When you and I were courting you couldn’t get a sentence out without stammering.”
Old Xu deflated on the spot and got up in a hurry. “I’ll do the washing up. The rest of you sit.”
Once Old Xu had cleared the table, Wang Yuxin — with nothing else to do — got her homework out again. Seeing her working, Zhang Hong switched off the television and picked up her phone, the one with the crack running across the screen, to scroll through Moments.
The living room went quiet.
After a while, Wang Yuxin suddenly asked, “Xu Ye-gege, are you any good at Chinese?”
“Of course I am.”
“What does jiàn yì sī qiān mean?”
Xu Ye answered without missing a beat. “It means you see a good-looking member of the opposite sex and want to move in with her.” [TL: 见异思迁 means to be fickle — forever abandoning what you have for whatever new thing catches your eye. Xu Ye reads the four characters apart instead: 见 “see,” 异 as in 异性 “the opposite sex,” 思 “want,” 迁 “to relocate.”]
“Hahaha.”
Wang Yuxin burst out laughing.
Zhang Hong shot him a glare — a signal not to go corrupting the young.
Not two minutes later, Wang Yuxin asked again, “Xu Ye-gege, then what does zhī zú cháng lè mean?”
Xu Ye had an answer ready without even having to think about it. “It means knowing someone’s taking you for a foot massage, and being happy about it on a regular basis.” [TL: 知足常乐 means that contentment brings lasting happiness. Xu Ye splits it up again: 知 “know,” 足 as in 足疗 “foot massage,” 常 as in 常常 “often,” 乐 as in 快乐 “happy.”]
Wang Yuxin laughed behind her hand. “I knew you’d just make something up. I’m never asking you anything again. You’re too stupid.”
Zhang Hong slapped Xu Ye on the thigh. “Be serious for once. Clowning around all day long — when you get married, your mother-in-law won’t think much of you either.”
“Not a chance. My mother-in-law’s plenty good to me.”
“That girl’s mother already knows you’re going out with her daughter?”
Xu Ye nodded. “She’s known for ages. Longer than you have.”
That got Zhang Hong interested. She shifted along the sofa until she was right up beside him. “Going by what you just said — her mother likes you a lot?”
“Enormously. She’d like nothing better than for me to marry into the family.”
“Pfft~”
Zhang Hong plainly didn’t believe a word of it, but she followed the thread anyway. “If her mother knows the two of you are together and hasn’t put a stop to it, then all the more reason for you to be good to her.”
“I know.”
“Have you got any more photos of the girl on your phone? Let Mom have another look.”
Xu Ye took out his phone, and before he’d even opened the album Zhang Hong had stuck her head right in front of him. He pulled the phone back and laid down some ground rules. “Mom. Looking is looking. Don’t start asking me to send them to you afterward.”
“I’m only looking.”
Only then did Xu Ye open the album.
There were a great many photos in it. Some of them were company material — saved screenshots full of data. Apart from those, the overwhelming majority were of Chen Qingqing: some of the two of them together, some of her on her own, and some Xu Ye had taken on the sly.
Zhang Hong’s eyes lit up at once. She snatched the phone off him and swiped through, pinching each photo larger and smaller in turn, her whole face delighted.
“Son, when are you going to bring her home so Mom can see her?”
“Don’t hold your breath. She’s very timid.”
“You can tell at a glance she’s a well-behaved girl. Oh — what was her name again?”
“Chen. Chen Qingqing.”
“She really is lovely. Lucky for you that you take after me a bit more, or she’d never have looked twice at you.”
“Mom, you can’t even pay someone a compliment without patting yourself on the back at the same time. You’re really something.”
“Where did you take this one?”
“That was New Year’s Eve.”
Zhang Hong was still looking when a message came in from Chen Qingqing.
Chen Qingqing: are you done?
Xu Ye saw it and snatched the phone straight back. “Mom, I’m going to my room. Have a wash and get to bed early.”
“Little brat.”
…
When he got up the next morning, his phone had already shut itself off.
The night before, he and Chen Qingqing had been on video for the first half of the night, and as it got close to twelve they had switched to voice. Xu Ye had no idea at what point the battery had died.
He plugged the phone in and got up in a hurry. Old Zhang and Old Xu were both still in bed, so he crept into the kitchen on his own to make Old Zhang a bowl of longevity noodles.
In previous years this had always been Old Xu’s job.
But Xu Ye knew Old Xu’s cooking was thoroughly ordinary. His noodles came out thin and watery, and nobody actually liked eating them.
Xu Ye tipped flour into a large bowl, added two spoonfuls of salt, then poured in cold water as he worked the mixture together. In no time at all he had kneaded out a smooth ball of dough.
Once the dough was kneaded he sealed it under stretch wrap and went to get the rest of the ingredients ready.
All told it took him roughly an hour to have the longevity noodles finished. He had meant to leave them in the pot to keep warm rather than serving them right away — but at that very moment Old Zhang and Old Xu both came out of their room, so he ladled them into a bowl at once.
Old Xu caught the smell the moment he came out of his room. He sniffed twice. “What smells so good?”
Old Zhang smelled it too, and something evidently occurred to her, because she hurried straight to the kitchen doorway.
Xu Ye was just lifting the bowl. “Ta-daaa. Perfect timing. Mom, come and try the longevity noodles I made you.”
Her precious son, up first thing in the morning, cooking her a bowl of noodles.
Something in Zhang Hong went warm, her eyes stung, and she was very nearly moved to tears.
Old Xu peered into the bowl and asked, smiling, “Little brat, when did you pick that up?”
“Learned it off videos.”
“Love, don’t you want to get changed first?” Old Xu said.
Zhang Hong carried the bowl over to the dining table and sat down, haughty as anything. “You can be quiet. I’m going to try the longevity noodles my son made me first.”
Watching her take a mouthful, Xu Ye asked, smiling, “Mom, how is it?”
Zhang Hong started praising it immediately. “A hundred times better than your father’s.”
Xu Ye chuckled, went over to stand beside Old Xu, and dropped his voice. “Dad. Money’s transferred. Don’t make a mess of this.”
Old Xu nodded silently and made an OK sign with his fingers.
Xu Ye glanced at Zhang Hong, who had her phone out taking photos, ready to post them to Moments and brag. Only then did he take off his apron and go into the bathroom to wash up.
Which goes to show: it doesn’t matter how old a woman gets. She’s still very easy to win over.
(End of Chapter 184)