Chapter 51
As soon as she opened the door, the familiar aroma of food hit her. Zhou Wenjuan was busy in the kitchen when she heard the noise and popped her head out: "Are you back? Wash your hands, it's time to eat." Her eyes swept across her daughter's slightly red eyes and her obviously relaxed expression, then passed by the silent but powerful young man behind her.
Xia Wan led Jiang Yu into the small living room. The space was cramped, and the furniture was old but neat. The sofa was an old fabric sofa, its armrests covered with a crocheted white square scarf. Several cross-stitched landscapes hung on the wall, and a glass photo frame sat on the TV stand.
Jiang Yu's attention was almost immediately attracted to the photo frame.
In the frame was a slightly yellowed family portrait. The background was the rockery pavilion of Pear Blossom Park. In the center of the photo were the much younger Xias. Father Xia, wearing a white shirt and black-framed glasses, had a gentle and elegant smile. He held Zhou Wenjuan, who also smiled gently and wore a floral dress.
In front of them stood two half-grown children.
On the left is Xia Wan, who has two pigtails, wears a pink dress, and smiles with her eyes curved. She looks about ten years old and is holding an old rag doll in her arms.
And on the right... is a boy who looks two or three years younger than Xia Wan.
The boy had a short flat head and was wearing navy blue overalls and a white shirt. His little face was tense, his mouth corners turned down, and he looked at the camera stubbornly, forming a stark contrast with Xia Wan and her gentle parents who were smiling brightly beside him.
"What are you looking at?" Xia Wan's voice sounded beside him, with a hint of doubt.
"I'm looking at photos of my uncle and aunt when they were young. My aunt was very beautiful when she was young." Jiang Yu looked at the family photo, as if he had crossed over a long time to participate in Xia Wan's childhood life.
Xia Wan smiled with a hint of nostalgia. "Yes, my mom was so beautiful when she was young." She walked over, picked up the photo frame, and gently brushed her fingertips over her parents' young faces in the photo. Her voice lowered, "This is... our last family photo when my dad was still alive."
"Is this... my brother?" Xia Wan pointed with her left index finger at the little boy standing nearby. "Xia Yang. Three years younger than... three years younger than me." She paused, then burst into laughter, a thought coming to her mind. "You know what? When we took this photo, that little brat was throwing a tantrum at us. It was all the rage back then to put a red dot on your forehead, and Xia Yang insisted on having it done, too. His parents told him it was for little girls, but he wouldn't listen. His mouth drooped down to his chin..."
Along with Xia Wan's hearty laughter, Jiang Yu seemed to see the image of a little boy who was stubborn and uncooperative because of the "little red dot".
"Fortunately, he didn't paint it over, otherwise, we wouldn't be allowed to display this photo!" Xia Wan smiled and put the photo back on the TV cabinet.
Zhou Wenjuan came out of the kitchen carrying some dishes. She placed them on the table and said, "It's time to eat. Go wash your hands."
On the small dining table, four dishes and a soup were laid out, all homely. Steamed fish, braised spareribs, broccoli with garlic sauce, cucumber salad, and a bowl of tofu soup sprinkled with cilantro. The food was steaming hot and fragrant.
Zhou Wenjuan invited Jiang Yu to sit down and filled him with a bowl of rice. She was so polite that she was almost cautious: "Mr. Jiang, our home is simple and we don't have any good dishes. You... don't be disgusted, just eat whatever you want."
"Auntie, you are too polite. Just call me Xiao Jiang." Jiang Yu took the bowl with a humble attitude, "The food is very rich and smells delicious. Thank you, Auntie." He picked up the chopsticks and picked up a piece of pork ribs naturally without any hesitation, as if this ordinary old-fashioned round table and home-cooked dishes were no different from his daily life.
Xia Wan felt a warm feeling in her heart as she watched Jiang Yu calmly eat the food his mother had cooked. She knew he was trying to fit in, to bridge the gap between them.
The atmosphere at the table was initially tense. Zhou Wenjuan seemed unsure what to say and simply kept urging people to eat more. Xia Wan also ate in silence.
Jiang Yu took the initiative to break the silence. He didn't try to find a topic, but instead cast his eyes on the largest cross-stitch landscape painting on the wall. It was a picture of the Jiangnan water town, with small bridges, flowing water, and misty rain. The stitches were fine and meticulous, and it was obvious that a lot of effort had been put into it.
"Auntie, did you embroider this cross-stitch? It's very beautiful." Jiang Yu's tone was full of sincere appreciation.
When Zhou Wenjuan mentioned her "works," her eyes lit up, and the reservedness on her face faded a little. "Yes, after retirement, I had nothing to do, so I loved tinkering with these. I've been embroidering them for several months! Jiang...Xiao Jiang, do you understand this too?"
"I don't know anything about embroidery," Jiang Yu shook his head frankly, his eyes still fixed on the painting, "but I can see the patience and artistic conception in it. Especially the light and shadow on the water and the hazy feeling of the mist and rain in the distance, they are handled very delicately and have a sense of space." He used the professional term "sense of space" but cleverly incorporated his appreciation of art.
Zhou Wenjuan felt a little embarrassed by his praise, and a genuine smile appeared on her face: "Oh, I'm just embroidering blindly, how can I understand what spatial sense is..." Although she said this, her tone was much lighter.
The atmosphere gradually relaxed. Jiang Yu asked a few more questions about the changes in Jincheng, and Zhou Wenjuan opened up, rambling about the renovation of the old city and the transformation of the neighborhood. Xia Wan listened, occasionally interjecting. Seeing the long-lost, relaxed smile on her mother's face, and then watching Jiang Yu patiently listen and respond appropriately, the haze of worry about her family background seemed to dispel a little in her heart, even from the warm atmosphere of daily life.
After dinner, Xia Wan helped her mother clean up the dishes. Jiang Yu wanted to help, but Zhou Wenjuan firmly pushed him back into his chair: "You are a guest and a wounded person. Sit down and rest! Wan Wan and I can handle these tasks!"
Water gurgled in the kitchen. Zhou Wenjuan, washing dishes, lowered her voice to her daughter, "Wanwan, your boyfriend... doesn't seem like the type to be arrogant. He's quite measured in his words and actions, and... quite polite." She paused, her voice lowering a few degrees. "It's just... the gap between our families is really too big. I'm still feeling a bit uneasy..."
Xia Wan wiped the dishes and didn't answer immediately. She looked through the kitchen glass door into the living room. Jiang Yu didn't check his phone, but sat quietly on the worn fabric sofa, his eyes fixed on the family photo frame on the TV cabinet, his gaze deep.
She remembered his solemn bow and promise in the cemetery, the hug downstairs filled with self-blame and pleading, and the way he was trying to fit into this small space.
"Mom," Xia Wan's voice was soft, but it carried a strange power. "The gap exists. But he's trying. I'm trying too. I don't know what the future will be like. But at least now... I want to try. For him, and for myself."
Zhou Wenjuan looked at the quiet determination in her daughter's eyes and finally sighed deeply without saying anything else. She wiped the last bowl and whispered, "You go keep him company. Mom... go clean up Yangyang's room. We can't let a sick patient stay in a hotel." She finally relented and acquiesced to Jiang Yu's stay.
Xia Wan dried her hands and walked out of the kitchen.
Jiang Yu heard footsteps and looked away from the photo frame, looking at her. Their eyes met.
"Are you tired? Do you want to go to my room and rest for a while?" Xia Wan asked softly.
"Okay." Jiang Yu stood up.
Xia Wan's room was small and simply furnished. There was a single bed, a desk, a bookshelf, and a few potted plants on the windowsill. The air was filled with the faint fragrance of her own and the scent of old books.
Jiang Yu's eyes swept over the neatly arranged books on the shelf—mostly architecture books and literary classics, along with a few old magazines. His gaze finally settled on a nondescript light blue hardcover notebook in the corner of the desk. It looked old, its edges frayed.
Xia Wan's heart skipped a beat! That was her diary! She had brought it back with her this time, wanting it to remain in her youthful memories.
She almost subconsciously wanted to rush over and put it away! But Jiang Yu's eyes only lingered on the notebook for a moment, then moved away very naturally, as if it was just an ordinary notebook. He walked to the window and looked out at the old residential buildings and the gray sky in the distance.
"It's... very quiet here." He whispered, his voice emotionless.
Xia Wan breathed a sigh of relief, but her heart was still hanging. She walked to the bed and sat down, patting the seat next to her: "Sit for a while."
Jiang Yu sat down as he was told. The single bed was very narrow, and the two of them sat side by side, close enough that they could feel each other's body temperature and breathing.
Silence permeated the small space. Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting blurry spots of light on the floor.
"Xia Wan." Jiang Yu suddenly spoke in a low voice.
"Um?"
"Your brother..." He paused, as if choosing his words, "Will he... dislike me?"
"Ah? When have you seen that boy?" Xia Wan's face was full of suspicion.
Jiang Yu chuckled, "Nothing, isn't that how it's played on TV? A jealous brother-in-law..."
Hearing Jiang Yu joking like this, Xia Wan laughed in disbelief, "So President Jiang can make such a joke..."
Hearing the laughter coming from the room, Zhou Wenjuan standing at the door also laughed and knocked on the door gently.
"Xiao Jiang, please stay at Yangyang's house tonight."
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