Storms and Tranquility
On June 6, 2022, dusk gently enveloped the banquet hall. Wenqing stood beneath an archway adorned with blue and white balloons, a "41" badge pinned to his suit pocket. In his left hand, he held Shuxia, dressed in a puffy skirt, and in his right, he held Shuning, dressed in a Tang suit. The longevity locks on the twins' chests jingled with their steps, like a string of dancing musical notes.
The three-tiered cake in the center of the main table is quite spectacular: the bottom tier is a Black Forest cake decorated with golf ball chocolates, the middle tier is covered with teething biscuits for babies and toddlers, and the top tier is inscribed with the frosting formula "1+41=∞." The sweet aroma hides the romance of time.
When Wenqing leaned over to guide the children to blow out the candles, two yellowed photos slowly emerged on the projection screen - 1981 and 2021. Similar tiger-head shoes looked at each other tenderly in the long river of time, like a relay spanning forty years.
Shu Ning carefully picked the reddest strawberry, stood on tiptoe and popped it into Grandpa's mouth. Shu Xia suddenly reached out her little hand, curiously tugging on her father's tie and pulling it towards the cake. The cream accidentally smeared on his custom-made suit, but it drew knowing laughter from the whole room, breaking the formality of the ceremony.
A Suzhou embroidery of a hundred children graced the center of the banquet hall, and forty-one items for the "Zhuazhou" celebration were arranged according to the five elements. In Shu Ning's area, a miniature copy of the Analects of Confucius, a jade abacus, and a stethoscope were displayed. In front of Shu Xia sat a painted pipa, a scale, and a miniature easel, each imbued with the elders' aspirations.
When Wenqing and Xiaofeng released the two babies at the same time, the lace skirt of the younger sister Shuxia got caught on the tassel of the carpet, while the older brother Shuning had already rushed to the pile of objects with all his hands and feet. The younger sister suddenly turned around, grabbed her brother's overalls and pulled him backwards. Amid the laughter of the guests, the younger sister took the opportunity to grab the abacus and shook it like a rattle, the jade beads colliding with each other, making a sound like a clear spring. The older brother did not cry or make a fuss, but instead grabbed the stethoscope and pressed it on his sister's wrist in a very serious manner. His serious look made Fan Weiwei exclaim: "What accuracy! Take it from grandpa!"
"When Brother Long holds the stethoscope, the medical profession will have a bright future. When Sister Feng plays the beads lightly, the business world will be clear and the sails will be high." Second grandfather Jiang Hui improvised a poem, which drew rounds of applause and brought the atmosphere to a climax.
At the end of the banquet, the waiter brought out a special longevity noodle dish. A single dragon beard noodle, arranged in concentric circles, was adorned with 41 shrimp and 12 carrot florets. Every bite was a taste of reunion. Wenqing cut the noodles into three pieces, giving the longest one to her father, the middle one to her two children, and keeping the shortest one for herself, yet she smiled the sweetest. Outside, the sunset filled the sky, and in the reflection of the glass, three figures in birthday hats folded their palms, cutting a cake. The warmth was like a frozen oil painting.
After the banquet, the twin brothers got into the car with their grandparents; Liou lay on Zhou Yang's shoulder, his little hands still clutching Zhou Yang's tie and refusing to let go, humming a tuneless nursery rhyme in a baby voice.
When the nightlight in the children's room finally went out, Wenqing closed the door behind him, the scent of the children's milk still lingering on his nose. He slapped Xiaofeng lightly on the buttocks. "Mrs. Jiang, are you daydreaming again?"
"I have amnesia..." Xiaofeng said aggrievedly, "I forgot whose baby I am."
Wen Qing pressed her directly on the chest, his palm sliding down her spine, and pressing punishingly on the small of her back: "Now go to the bathroom in the room, the water temperature is 39 degrees, and use the bath salts you just bought, the cherry blossom scent."
When Wenqing emerged from the guest bathroom, drying her hair, she found Xiaofeng standing by the bed again, gesticulating in a cryptic manner. "What's wrong with the bed?" He suddenly bit her earlobe from behind, the straps of his bathrobe brushing against her bare ankles. "This bed is neither too big nor too small, just perfect for you..." Before she could finish her words, Xiaofeng suddenly turned and hooked her arms around his neck. He pushed her down onto the bed, the mattress forming a perfect arc.
Morning light filtered through the linen curtains, casting pale golden specks across the silk quilt. Wenqing opened his eyes to the familiar scent of cherry blossoms and found Xiaofeng's fingertips tracing the lines of his face. Suddenly, like a koala, she clung to him, nuzzling his stubbled chin. "Mr. Jiang is old..." Her voice muffled in his chest, the languid twang of morning.
Wenqing rolled over, trapping her beneath him, his knees pressing against the lace of her nightgown. "Is last night's 'performance report' not satisfying to you?" He deliberately rubbed his newly grown stubble against her collarbone, his right hand darting to the sensitive spot at her waist. Xiaofeng twisted into a small, quivering, laughing, her hair fanning across the pillowcase. "Wait... something serious is going on..." She suddenly clamped down on his restless hand, their pulses racing in unison as their palms pressed together.
"You've been the family COO for five years," Wen Qing said as he lay back on his pillow, staring at the morning dew condensing in the ceiling chandelier. "You have to pick up and drop off five children every day, and take care of a greedy little cat..." He suddenly turned his head and saw Xiaofeng showing the team's offer on her phone. The blue light on the screen illuminated her cunning fangs. "Now it's my turn to support you!"
After 18 months away from the team, Rao Xiaofeng finally returned. When her high heels stepped into the team's training base again, the young team members in the equipment area were chatting with each other in front of the newly installed ballet barre, their eyes full of curiosity.
At 7 a.m., the crackling sound of battle ropes hitting the ground echoed endlessly in the fitness room. Xiaofeng's "trinity" training method was beginning to show its power: morning training was a balance exercise incorporating ballet poses, with sensors accurately capturing every subtle shift in center of gravity; lunch continued with the team's signature boxing system; and in the afternoon, a unique "driver-car dialogue" took place, with the mechanics meticulously dissecting the precise impact of each modification detail on the driver's muscle groups...
The tuning workshop was filled with the chilling atmosphere of metalworking. Xiaofeng was measuring the thickness of a new weld with a vernier caliper—3.2mm. "Shortcut the ECU response time by another 0.05 seconds," she said, tapping the carbon fiber fuel tank of car number three, her gaze fixed on Zhen Kang. "We have the same goal: for next week's desert race, we must improve our speed at Turn 4 by 3%."
At dusk on the test track, the asphalt reached 42°C, the humidity 65%, and 20 engines roared simultaneously, scorching the air. When 18-year-old prodigy Zhang Feifei fell off the track again, Xiaofeng suddenly took off his suit jacket and climbed onto the spare car: "Watch out."
As the entire team watched, the 30-year-old female coach slid through the slippery road with textbook cornering technique, her tires carving a perfect semicircle on the asphalt. She shook off her short, sweat-stuck red hair, and heard technical assistant Xiaoxin yell, "Entry angle 47.5°, friction coefficient 1.2!"
"This is the angle our team should enter the corner at. Come again!"
At the end of each training day, Xiaoxin would submit a three-color evaluation form to Xiaofeng.
Red data tape: records the accuracy of the team members' independent clutch debugging in the workshop;
Blue curve: Weekly comparison of muscle compensation during ballet balance training;
Black star: The proportion of emergency plans adopted during the simulation race.
These data will eventually be converted into numerical values on the dynamic ranking wall in the locker room, but Xiaofeng insists on making handwritten annotations - she can always find more beyond the numbers. For example, the trembling of Zhang Feifei's thumb when checking the tire pressure often indicates the arrival of a psychological critical point.
"Starting tomorrow, give Feifei an extra hour of psychological endurance training."
"Okay, Sister Xiaofeng!"
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