“Dad.”
“Aunt Lin.”
The two girls greeted him; one of them was his own daughter.
This scene was a little hard to get used to at first. Lin Zhengqing responded with a low “Mm,” and changed into his indoor slippers.
“This is from Zhaoyue. You stared at it for ages last time but couldn’t bring yourself to buy it.”
Ye Qiao pointed at the baijiu on the table.
Lin Zhengqing’s gaze swept over the two bottles of liquor and landed on Chen Zhaoyue’s face.
This was truly a thoughtful gift—both valuable and exactly to his taste.
Lin Zhengqing smiled. “I’ve been craving this for a while now. Thank you, Zhaoyue.”
Chen Zhaoyue let out a quiet sigh of relief, a gentle smile appearing on her lips.
Lin Yiren also relaxed the hand clutching her hem, and the Xiao Ren’er in her arms poked her head out to curiously watch the people standing there.
Lin Zhengqing noticed the gaze and turned to look over.
Although Lin Xingyao hadn’t grown much physically, the feeling she gave off was already quite different.
Those bright eyes blinked nimbly, and her tiny hands gripped an apple almost as big as her face.
Lin Zhengqing suddenly wanted to hear her call him “Grandpa.”
Unfortunately, Xingyao looked away at the last moment as if to say—you’re still not familiar enough with Tuanzi.
Lin Yiren put Xingyao down, stood up, and said, “I’m going to cook. Dad, did you buy the pig trotters?”
“They’re at the kitchen door.”
“Alright!”
“Do you want Mama to help?”
“No need, you all just wait to eat.”
***
Lin Yiren rolled up her sleeves, about to leave, when she saw Chen Zhaoyue stand up.
Miss Chen circled behind her, pulling a hair tie out of her pocket.
“Let me tie up your hair for you.”
With that, she gathered Yiren’s black hair, her movements gentle as she tied it into a ponytail.
Ye Qiao immediately looked over, her eyes bright and a meaningful smile on her face.
Lin Zhengqing handed Xingyao a second apple.
Lin Yiren felt the blood rush to her head, her delicate face turning as pink as a peach blossom.
Why tie her hair in front of her parents all of a sudden? She could do it herself…
She could hear the soft breathing of the person behind her; her back was so tense it was almost rigid.
And Ye Qiao just kept staring, forcing her to stand perfectly still, pretending to be calm.
After what felt like an endless minute, she finally felt a pat on her shoulder.
“Alright, go on.”
And teasingly, she hooked a finger around the ponytail.
Grabbing the pig trotters, Lin Yiren dashed into the kitchen and closed the door with a “swish.”
***
Her face was still burning as she set the bag of pig trotters by the sink, then moved it to the stove, bustling about with a blank mind before she finally calmed down.
“It’s just tying hair, not hugging or kissing…”
Lin Yiren muttered under her breath, pulling the trotters out of the bag.
Did Miss Chen actually like this kind of food?
She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the elegant Miss Chen gnawing on a pig trotter.
The trotters had already been cleaned and looked spotless.
Lin Yiren set them on the chopping board and picked up the cleaver.
Her strength had waned, so it took several more chops than usual to get them ready.
She put the trotters in cold water and set the pot on the stove.
Picking up some green onion and ginger, she was just about to slice them when she heard faint conversation outside.
Was that Chen Zhaoyue chatting with her parents?
Curious, she opened the kitchen door just a crack to let the sound in.
“…Zhaoyue, have you graduated already?”
“Mm, I’ve started working now.”
“…What does Xingyao like to eat?”
“She likes…”
Bits and pieces of conversation drifted in from the living room.
Were they getting to know Chen Zhaoyue better?
As she listened, Lin Yiren absentmindedly sliced the green onion.
Pursing her lips, she imagined Chen Zhaoyue and Xingyao sitting with her parents, everyone relaxed and harmonious—a sweetness flowed through her heart.
“What was Yiren like before?”
Chen Zhaoyue’s voice rang out, making her freeze.
She strained to listen, but at that moment the water began to boil, drowning out the already faint voices from outside.
Why now, of all times…
Lin Yiren grit her teeth but had no choice but to quickly add the onions, ginger, and cooking wine to blanch the meat.
Once the trotters were blanched, the conversation outside was mostly lost.
Better to focus on cooking, she thought, shaking her head—her ponytail swaying.
She fired up the stove, poured in oil, and added rock sugar, controlling the heat to get a beautiful caramel color. Then she added the trotters, tossing them in the bubbling syrup until they turned a glossy red.
She poured in water, adjusted the seasoning, and covered the pot to let them simmer.
While waiting, she made a few small side dishes.
At last, the liquid reduced over high heat, and the glossy pig trotters were plated, steaming hot.
“Dinner’s ready!” Lin Yiren called, opening the door.
***
Lin Xingyao immediately ran over with a pitter-patter, followed by Chen Zhaoyue.
As Lin Yiren set the dishes on the table, she saw Chen Zhaoyue tidying up Xingyao’s clothes; their faces were close, both with a beauty mark at the corner of their eye.
They really did look a bit alike now.
“What are you spacing out for?”
Ye Qiao knocked her on the head.
Across the table, the two girls—one big, one small—looked up at her with curious eyes.
Lin Yiren quickly averted her gaze and sat down.
The table was covered with a spread of dark reds and light greens—four dishes in all.
“Mmm—smells so good. It’s been ages since I had my daughter’s cooking.”
Ye Qiao picked up a piece of pig trotter, sniffed it, and placed it atop her rice. The rich sauce soaked into the rice, and she took a big, satisfying bite.
“Lately you’ve been making Dad cook all the time, haven’t you?”
Lin Yiren pouted.
“It’s my honor, my honor,” Lin Zhengqing said with a laugh.
Chen Zhaoyue also picked up a piece of trotter, bit down, and the meat and skin came off the bone, tender and delicious.
She licked a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth, her voice sweet, “Yiren, your cooking really is delicious.”
Lin Yiren had been sneaking glances at her the whole time; hearing that, she couldn’t help the slight curve at the corner of her lips as she lowered her head and ate.
“When we visited you, it was her first time cooking for a girl,” Ye Qiao said to Chen Zhaoyue.
“No, I… it wasn’t—” Lin Yiren’s face turned bright red as she looked up.
“Wasn’t it?” Chen Zhaoyue asked.
“It was,” Lin Yiren didn’t bother to deny it.
Their eyes met, and a trace of warmth filled the air.
Their gazes quickly darted away.
But that warmth seemed to linger until dinner ended.
***
The dishwasher in the kitchen began its work, the sound of water gurgling continuously.
Ye Qiao shooed Lin Zhengqing off to the guest room and prepared a small quilt for Xingyao.
“Daughter, come have some tea with me.”
Lin Zhengqing called to Lin Yiren from the balcony.
Lin Yiren slid the balcony door open; the air outside was tinged with post-rain freshness.
She sat cross-legged, poured herself a cup of tea from the purple clay teapot.
This had become a father-daughter habit—every so often, they’d sit down to tea and chat.
“How have you been lately?”
That familiar opening made Lin Yiren feel like she’d returned to her days as a son, coming back from college to discuss her plans, and receiving a few words of advice from her father.
“Just cooking, looking after Xingyao,” Lin Yiren paused, then added, “I started writing a new novel too, just something to do before the semester starts.”
Lin Zhengqing nodded. He knew that Lin Yiren had once considered writing novels as a career.
“Zhaoyue’s father said you could work over there after you graduate.”
“I still want to find a job on my own.”
“Good, that’s my… daughter.”
Suddenly, Lin Zhengqing shifted topics, “Are you interested in that girl?”
“W-what kind of interest?” Lin Yiren jumped, staring wide-eyed at her father.
“Don’t pretend. Do you think I can’t tell?” Lin Zhengqing took a sip of tea, then continued, “Your mother thinks the world of her. At first, I was a bit worried about our families’ financial situations, but if you really like her, don’t hold back.”
Lin Yiren fell silent, her eyes drifting inside—to where Chen Zhaoyue was chatting with Ye Qiao, her face graced with a gentle, lovely smile.
She lifted her cup and drank, her voice low, “I don’t even know if she likes girls or boys. And I’m not really a girl, either.”
Seeing the gloom on his child’s face, Lin Zhengqing felt a pang, but he couldn’t decide the path for Lin Yiren.
He reached out and ruffled her hair—the strands soft and fine, so different from when she was his son.
“Don’t lose hope. The way she looks at you, I think she might be interested,” Lin Zhengqing said in a lighter tone.
“Oh, please. If you could read anyone’s eyes besides Mom’s, I’d be impressed,” Lin Yiren finally broke into a smile, letting herself slip out of her earlier mood.
“Cheeky brat,” Lin Zhengqing chuckled. “No, wait… guess I have to call you cheeky girl now.”