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墨書 Inktalez
As she opened the door, a wave of warmth enveloped her. Sang Yu saw Sang's father sitting on the sofa, engrossed in a television show, while she busied herself in the kitchen, a smile of happiness on her face.
“Dad, I’m home!” Sang Yu announced as she stood at the doorway, taking off her thick down jacket and slipping into her slippers.
Hearing his eldest daughter’s voice, Sang's father turned to look at the entrance. His stern expression softened instantly upon seeing Da Bao.
“What are you watching?” Sang Yu asked. She had protested against being called Da Bao in the past, but her protests had fallen on deaf ears. Resigned, she accepted it; after all, if they wanted to call her Da Bao, then so be it.
“Heh, just a crime drama. You must be freezing; come have some hot water.” Sang's father loved watching detective shows and never missed an episode when one aired.
He grabbed the kettle from the coffee table and poured a cup of hot water for his daughter.
“Thank you, Dad.” Sang Yu took the cup and gulped it down, feeling the chill dissipate from her body.
“I’ll check if Mom needs any help,” she said as she placed the cup down and headed towards the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Sang Yu was stir-frying vegetables. She glanced at the dining table filled with dishes and smiled; as expected, everything was her favorite. Having a mother truly was a blessing.
“Mom, are you almost done? As long as there’s enough to eat, that’s fine,” she called out.
“Da Bao is here?” Sang Yu turned to look at her mother, who was busy cooking. The exhaust fan was running loudly, so she hadn’t heard the doorbell ring.
“I’m just finishing up the last dish; we’ll eat soon.”
“Okay, I’ll go change into something comfortable.” Noticing that there wasn’t anything she could help with, Sang Yu decided to head to her bedroom to change into her pajamas.
The room was warm, and within moments, she began to sweat.
“Here you go, your favorite Braised Pork.” Her mother placed a piece of Braised Pork into Sang Yu’s bowl.
“Thanks, Mom! Mmm, it’s still the best when you make it.” The Braised Pork was rich yet not greasy, leaving a delightful flavor in her mouth. Sang Yu bit into it with satisfaction; she loved how her mother prepared it—whenever she tried making it herself, it never tasted quite right.
“How’s work been lately? Are you tired?” Sang's father asked. He knew that his daughter had taken on an extra class since they had talked on the phone before.
“It’s alright. It’s a bit tiring but manageable,” she replied.
“You still need to take care of yourself. Look at you; you’ve lost weight again.” As he spoke, he added more vegetables to her bowl.
Sang Yu looked down at her waist. Had she? She felt like it had actually gotten thicker.
She thought to herself: Is this a common trait among fathers? Every time they see their child after some time apart, they think their child has lost weight and is suffering outside.
“Mom, Mom, Mom, that’s enough! There’s no more room in the bowl!” Sang Yu quickly intervened, looking at the overflowing bowl. Her mother loved to serve generous portions, and it seemed that tonight her waist would be a few inches thicker again.
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