Chapter 25: The House Will Surely Be Lively From Now On

When Xia An went to the bathroom to wash his hands, his mother, Wei Xiaofang, had already wiped the paint off the floor of the small room and was sitting on the edge of the bed, carefully examining the painting.

Seeing him enter, she smiled and praised the two new additions, saying they were masterfully executed and showed a depth far beyond his previous skill.

Could his mother, a simple logistics worker at a factory, really understand art?

She could.

To keep pace with the artistic endeavors of "Big Sister" Youzi next door, Xia An had begged his parents to enroll him in extracurricular classes at the age of five. When Youzi mastered folk dance, he was learning calligraphy, only to abandon it later. When she achieved a modest success in modern dance, he was studying feng shui painting, only to abandon that as well.

It wasn't until fourteen-year-old Zuo You, already conscious of aesthetics and fearing for the grace of her feet, gave up ballet, that Xia An began to study sketching and color—and stuck with it.

He was twelve at the time.

For years, through wind and rain, he never missed a day.

Watching him all those years, Xia An’s parents had picked up a thing or two. Even if they couldn’t define the technicalities, they could at least see the progress their son was making.

In his previous life, the grown-up Xia An never lost the habit of painting fruit. Now, as if enlightened by a master, his technique possessed an extra decade of refinement. His brushwork was fluid and decisive; the lemon was rendered with natural, evocative strokes, and the bowl looked round, full, and crystalline.

When Wei Xiaofang asked why he wasn't sleeping, Xia An answered honestly that he had drunk too much during the day and couldn't drift off. When she offered him milk, he declined, telling her not to go to the trouble. She giggled, admitting she was just being polite, as there wasn't any milk in the house anyway.

Looking at the gray strands by his mother's temples and the crow's feet that appeared when she smiled, Xia An couldn't help but chuckle. He remembered her as a boisterous woman who loved to laugh. That laughter had often echoed in his dreams, lingering for years.

Oh, and there was the snoring coming from the living room. His parents, who had just spent half a month traveling, were exhausted, but such fatigue didn't bring sleep to a woman as easily as it did to a man. Unable to sleep either, his mother whispered to her son, sharing interesting anecdotes from their travels.

She talked about the stifling heat in Singapore, where his father, Xia Kangning, had insisted on being trendy and buying a can of Coke, only to get into a heated argument on the street because it cost ten dollars. She spoke of how his father, despite acting stern and disdainful, had secretly peeked at the cabaret performers in Thailand. She mentioned a young couple in their tour group who had started brawling for no apparent reason, and how they had brought back many treasures for Xia An.

"Wait here, I'll go get them for you to see."

"Okay."

Wei Xiaofang left with a rag in her hand, and Xia An waited with a smile.

She returned with a large bag of souvenirs—colorful and dazzling. The fragile items were carefully wrapped in clothes. She explained that one was made of genuine tropical seashells, rare in their hometown, and told him to keep them as still-life subjects for his painting. She pointed out the postcards and various other trinkets, explaining each one in detail, terrified he might not know their origin or wouldn't like them.

Xia An knew these were just common items from a wholesale market, nothing rare. But his parents had never seen them before, and they simply wanted to buy them for their son. The nineteen-year-old Xia An would surely have scoffed at them.

The thirty-six-year-old Xia An, however, looked on with genuine delight.

After explaining half of them, Wei Xiaofang stopped and put them away. Just as Xia An was wondering why, she smiled and said, "Two of each—the rest are for my little Youzi."

Xia An chuckled again. Just like with Le Ning, everyone in the family knew he liked Zuo You. Even before he could remember, his parents had constantly instilled in him that he should marry her when he grew up, and they wouldn't accept anyone else.

There was a reason for this. First, Zuo You was impeccable, and second…

Holding the bag, Wei Xiaofang suddenly asked him, "Tell me the truth, what is really on your mind? You’re about to go to college. If you have other ideas, your father and I might give you a beating, but we won't stop you."

"..."

Xia An was stunned, then gestured wordlessly to the drawing paper. "It's all drawn there; what else could I be thinking?"

Wei Xiaofang rolled her eyes, frowned, and asked mysteriously, "Then why haven't you been in touch with Youzi lately?"

Xia An was taken aback again, but realization dawned on him. The parents of both families had secretly arranged a marriage for them long ago. In fact, Zuo You was the only one who didn't know.

But did she really not know? At least in the year and a half he had spent with her, she had said everything.

Seeing her son’s daze, Wei Xiaofang sighed internally, thinking it was true that men changed their minds as they grew up and grew bored with time. When he was little, he would cry and shout that he didn't want a fairy—he wanted Youzi, he wanted to marry Sister Youzi... Look at him now.

Yet, she said, "I'm just teasing you. Son, you're grown up now. Your father and I aren't feudal parents; you make your own decisions. But you know, our family owes your Uncle Zuo a debt. If you don't intend to date Youzi, don't lead her on once you're in college."

The word "debt" left Xia An feeling truly helpless. Zuo You’s father and Xia Kangning were fellow soldiers who had joined the factory together after being discharged. After Youzi’s mother became pregnant, she introduced a colleague from logistics to Xia Kangning, which led to Xia An’s birth.

The year Zuo You turned one, there was an accident at the machinery plant. His old comrade had pushed Xia Kangning out of the way of a falling machine. The strength of their brotherhood was proven with a leg. After receiving compensation, Zuo You’s father retired and opened a restaurant.

When little Youzi first learned to talk, she would always babble and ask her father why he mimicked her walk. When she grew up, she would perform dances she learned in kindergarten to cheer him up, fulfilling the duty of filial piety through lighthearted joy.

Until that explosion after the Olympics.

In Xia An’s memory, the gentle, kind, and filial Zuo You never lived for herself. That "debt" had been reversed after 2008. Burdened by guilt toward Xia An, Zuo You had given up her job, her studies, and Xia An himself, hiding from him for sixteen years—the most precious sixteen years of her life.

In his recollection, his mother had never asked him about "whether or not to give up on Zuo You," so why bring it up now?

As if sensing his confusion, Wei Xiaofang clicked her tongue and pointed to the drawing, saying she knew what that lemon meant. "That girl named Le Ning has always liked you; your homeroom teacher knows it too, right?"

"..."

Ah. No matter how old he felt inside, he couldn't help but feel his face flush. His mother was quite sharp—was this the wisdom of the working class?

He didn't bother with the pointless explanation that it was just a piece of fruit, instead grinning and showing his teeth. "I'll handle it."

Wei Xiaofang scoffed, raising her hand as if to hit him, then sighed. "Go to sleep. All men are the same. Think it over yourself; I'll just wait and watch the show."

"Don't worry, I promise our family will be very lively in the future."

As Wei Xiaofang reached the door, she turned back, hissed, and pinched Xia An’s cheek. "You're thick-skinned." She put on a smile and patted his head. The teenage Xia An would have impatiently dodged, but the middle-aged Xia An leaned into her hand.

"My big son is so handsome. Sleep now, Mom will make you something good in the morning."

...

...

She didn't.

Wei Xiaofang overslept and rushed off to work in a panic. The early-rising Xia An and his father, who had an extra day off, both went hungry.

When Xia An walked out of his room, yawning and scratching his head, Xia Kangning was sitting on the sofa, watching TV while reading a newspaper, munching on a large steamed bun. He let out a belch and took a sip of tea, peering at his son over his glasses.

"Hungry?"

"It's alright."

Xia Kangning grunted, tapping the coffee table with the bun. "If you're not hungry... *hic*... that's fine. There are two more here, have some to... *hic*... pad your stomach." He gulped down a mouthful of bitter tea. "Your mom will bring food back from the cafeteria at noon, we'll eat then."

Xia An almost laughed out loud. Still playing the pedantic, old-fashioned man, as always.

"Forget it. We’ll starve to death at this rate. I’ll cook two bowls of noodles."

"That works too."

The meal from the previous chapters hadn't been a complete lie to Tang Xiaowan. Although Lin Jiajia had cooked it, Wei Xiaofang’s culinary skills were indeed lackluster. If it weren't for the fact that the family across the hall was away, would you believe it? The Xia family would be eating out every single day.

"Want eggs?"

"Two. No cilantro."

"We don't have cilantro."

With his son in charge of the stove, Xia Kangning felt awkward just sitting there and retreated to his room. "Call me when it's ready. The market is open; I need to study the trends."

Suddenly, a spark of inspiration that had been lingering on the edge of his mind was captured.

Xia An called out, "Hey, can you teach me how to look at stocks in a bit?"