The hustle and bustle of the front hall seemed to be swallowed up by the twilight. Under the warm yellow light, shadows intertwined, and laughter wove together a tapestry of home.
Li Panmei chatted away, pouring out her experiences and hardships in the workplace over the past few years to her family like a treasure trove. Li Zhongguo smiled gently, occasionally interjecting, offering advice, or nodding, his expression full of concern and pride as an elder.
At this moment, Li Fagui silently cleared away the dishes and headed to the kitchen, while Wang Ma stood to the side, a barely perceptible hint of smugness on her lips—the old lady had said that Miss Hehua would be washing the dishes, so she could slack off a bit.
"Brother, are you sure? I'm still waiting for you!" Ma Hehua's crisp voice rang out at the kitchen door, like a silver bell waking Li Panmei from her reverie.
Li Zhongguo looked up, waved his hand, and couldn't hide the smile in his eyes: "There's nothing else to say, go on! Lotus is looking for you!"
After saying that, she even shoved her son, as if the kitchen was the most important "battlefield" at that moment.
Li Panmei: "……………………"
His heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed the words he was about to say, dragging his feet toward the kitchen.
As he stepped into that bustling place, he rolled up his sleeves, and something magical happened. His hands, which had been away from the sink for decades, seemed to be "summoned back" by the years. He picked up the dishes, squeezed on dish soap, wiped and rinsed them, and his movements were smooth and incredibly skillful.
Wu Xiao'e caught a glimpse of this scene out of the corner of her eye, and her heart suddenly ached, as if vinegar had soaked into her tender soul.
In the past, Li Panmei had never done the dishwashing work at home. She was used to being waited on hand and foot. Now, for her sister's sake, she washes the dishes very well.
"Hey! Sister-in-law, why are you hiding? My brother is really good at washing clothes, cooking, and feeding pigs. Don't let his delicate appearance fool you, he's incredibly efficient."
Ma Hehua praised.
"Is...is that so?" she replied awkwardly and sadly.
"Of course! My mother said that a man has to know these things, otherwise who would want him in the future! But I didn't expect you, this sucker, to take him."
Ma Hehua smacked her lips, looking puzzled.
Li Panmei's lips twitched. His sister hadn't changed at all; she always liked to put him and Zhao Mei down.
Wu Xiao'e felt a lump in her throat; what could she do when she loved Pan Mei?
Li Erfa and Li Sanfa huddled together in a corner, their eyes filled with astonishment and mischief, whispering to each other like two little mice peeking at a strange sight.
"At home, Dad was a force to be reckoned with; the ground would tremble if he stomped his foot. He was as cunning and calculating as a fox. But now that he's in the capital, his mind seems to be fogged up, and he keeps making mistakes!"
His words were a mixture of disbelief and forced laughter.
Li Panmei stood to the side, listening to her brothers' whispers. Her lips twitched, and her helplessness turned into silent contemplation. A faint black line appeared on her forehead, and she smiled bitterly to herself.
How could he dare to play tricks on his sister?
Those "Pegasus Meteor Fist" punches were coming one after another, and he really couldn't withstand them. He could only obediently put away all his "little thoughts" and willingly become the "dishwasher".
After finishing her tasks in the kitchen, Ma Hehua relaxed her eyebrows slightly, her eyes quickly sweeping over the clean dishes, seemingly satisfied with the "results." Then, with a light sway of her skirt, she hurried towards the front hall.
She called out in a clear voice, "Mom, I'm done washing up. Can I go back to my room now?"
Her voice was loud and clear, yet also charmingly naive.
Li Panmei's lips curled into a fierce smirk. "Did you wash this?" "I washed it."
Ma Linghua looked up, her gaze full of doting affection, and waved her hand: "Good, go ahead!"
His tone was firm, as if he believed that the task of washing dishes belonged solely to his daughter, and anyone who tried to argue would likely be shut out by his stubbornness.
"By the way, when will Zhao Mei arrive? Today is the 15th." Ma Linghua frowned slightly as she thought of the person who had not returned, her displeasure spreading like ink in water.
“Him? He said he’ll arrive tomorrow.” Li Fagui hurriedly replied, but was immediately pressed, “Oh! That’s good then. By the way, how long will it take for Da Mao and the others to arrive?”
"They said it would be the 17th."
Li Fagui's brows furrowed instantly, as if these words had stirred up his deep-seated worries. He was filled with hidden anxieties and dissatisfaction about his sons' late returns. He clicked his tongue and thought to himself, "These lads always mess up at crucial moments. They're such a worry."
The night was utterly silent, thick as ink, enveloping the capital in tranquility. As everyone slept soundly, Ma Linghua, accompanied by Ma Hehua, like two shadowy figures, quietly slipped out of their home, their hurried footsteps shattering the moonlight as they headed towards a desolate place outside the city.
On the desolate outskirts of the city, the cold wind howled like a hungry wolf, and withered grass lay prostrate on the ground, whimpering. A dilapidated village huddled among them, its crumbling walls like those of an old man in his twilight years, exuding an aura of decay in the darkness, seemingly worlds apart from the bustling capital.
"Mom, it's so itchy, my back is really uncomfortable."
Ma Hehua's voice trembled, the chill and the intense itching tormenting her, causing her brows to furrow. Without thinking, she gritted her teeth, her hands trembling as she took off her clothes. The cold wind cut like a knife, but she couldn't care less; the itching felt like ants gnawing at her very bones.
"Don't rush, let me activate the barrier first! Blazing Flames, rise!"
Ma Linghua gave a low shout, and with a wave of her delicate hand, her boundless spiritual power danced wildly like a fiery serpent. In an instant, blazing crimson flames spread out, creating a hidden curtain that covered a radius of a hundred miles, isolating the mother and daughter from the outside world. Only the flickering firelight remained in the darkness.
"Take off the last piece of clothing too," she urged, her gaze fixed on her daughter's back.
Ma Hehua felt no shame and did as she was told.
Ma Linghua leaned closer for a closer look, her brows furrowing. As she focused her gaze, she saw something suddenly emerging from the skin. It was incredibly hard to the touch, like black iron, and its dark color resembled ink or the plumage of a raven. Under the firelight, it looked ferocious and bizarre, devoid of any life or beauty, as if it were a malignant disease or a parasitic evil spirit. The sight made her heart skip a beat.
A chill crept from my fingertips straight to my heart, and worries grew like rampant vines. In this desolate wilderness, my hidden anxieties were magnified infinitely by the night.
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