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墨書 Inktalez
The day before the results were to be announced, the person who had promised to help carry things was dragged home by his parents, along with his blanket and younger brother.
The elderly couple waited at home, anxiously looking for their eldest son. When he didn’t answer his phone or reply to messages, they decided to hire a delivery boy to help them. The delivery boy rode his little electric scooter, swiftly arriving at Song Buxian's building without charging a penny for his assistance, helping them move everything to the doorstep. The father opened the door while the mother hurried into the bedroom, immediately spotting two fluffy heads without needing to look closely.
Song Buxian had always been a sound sleeper. At that moment, he was only covered by the corner of a blanket due to the heat, lying on his side. On the other side, Song Bunan was sprawled across two-thirds of the bed, hugging a pillow with a plush dog beside him. His long legs were sticking out from under the blanket, and one arm rested on his brother's neck.
The room was filled with an unpleasant odor from the two young men who had slept soundly through the night. The father slowly brought in items from outside while glancing at his dear wife as she grabbed a small sprayer from the balcony and rushed back into the bedroom.
First came the hissing sound of the sprayer, followed by their eldest son sleepily calling for his mother. Then there was the younger son’s cheerful chatter, culminating in a crisp sound of applause. The clarity of that sound indicated it was a hand slapping a bottom—sharp and loud.
The father went to the kitchen to boil water for tea and opened the fridge to grab some fruit for himself and his wife. Just then, two children in pajamas tumbled out of the bedroom and dashed into the bathroom. Song Bunan even had time to peek out and sweetly call out to his dad, expressing his desire for Shao Mai.
“There isn’t any!” his wife chimed in. “If you keep sleeping in, all you’ll get is a slap!”
Amidst the gentle sound of running water mixed with yawns, he handed a cup of hot tea to his wife, receiving a kiss in return. His beloved suggested they just have lunch at Bu Xian’s place to avoid running back and forth. He agreed and said he would wash vegetables after finishing his tea.
In the pot, they were steaming Shao Mai while keeping Yellow Rice Cake warm below. They also prepared fragrant millet porridge for the two kids.
The first to appear was Song Bunan, with his fluffy curly hair. He squealed as he squeezed between his parents, hugging each one in turn like an excited puppy reuniting with its owner after a long time apart. The father had flour on his hands and playfully smeared it on the freshly washed face of his son while the mother drew a little turtle on it.
“You little rascal! You’ve been out for so long without even calling! Have you been off gallivanting every day?” The mother playfully fed him a bite of cold dish she was mixing, unable to resist pinching his round face as he smiled adorably.
“I haven’t!” Song Bunan pouted playfully. “I got too busy and forgot! Besides, you two are all lovey-dovey having fun; if I called, I’d just be asking for dog food! I don’t want that.”
“Busy, just you busy. Look at you, you’ve definitely lost weight again. Come on, come on, Mom bought you new clothes, try them on!” The person being pinched from side to side followed his mother into the living room, watching her pull out a long-sleeved T-shirt from a bag, shake it out, and hand it to him, urging him to put it on.
It was a plain cotton round-neck long-sleeve T-shirt, featuring the head of a kitten printed on the front, looking pitifully at everyone who glanced its way against a backdrop of pink hearts. The back of the T-shirt had a larger version of the same image with the words: “Baby, you’re a super-sized **.” Song Bunan felt that the asterisk was cleverly placed; he instantly imagined a dozen derogatory and insulting terms to fill in the blank.
Of course, it fit perfectly; it was entirely his size.
Song Buxian couldn’t escape either. His T-shirt had an adorable dog on it, but the back was different—it showed the dog bowing down in front of its food bowl with the words: “Give me some food.”
Song, forty years old, successful in his career, boss of a company with over thirty employees—Bu Xian could not accept wearing such clothing out in public. In contrast to his resistance, Song Bunan cheerfully put on the T-shirt, declaring that he really liked the design and wanted to wear it to show Xiao Mei.
Their mother patted her elder son’s shoulder and said not to be so resistant; if he didn’t want to wear it out, he could use it as loungewear. The soft cotton was much more comfortable than those polyester items they usually bought. Song Buxian helplessly agreed and looked down at his silk pajamas, fearing that his mother might pull out something even stranger from the bag. He made an excuse about smelling something burning and slipped away into the kitchen.
Inside, their father was chopping vegetables. Upon seeing him enter, he casually handed over some garlic from beside him and said, “That’s a set; we have them too. Mine says ‘Dad is here,’ and your mom’s says ‘Mom is here.’ When we bought them, we said we’d wear them together next time we go out to eat.”
Can I refuse? Song Buxian felt a momentary pause in his breath. Clearly refusing and stating his opinion first and foremost was that he was already forty years old; wearing such clothes outside would only invite ridicule. Old Father scoffed dismissively and said that only those without partners would be laughed at; no one cares about such trivial matters as clothing.
Outside, Song Bunan was exclaiming in delight over the gifts their parents had bought. Inside was Song Buxian, trapped in silence under pressure about marriage. He handed the peeled garlic to his father and asked why they weren’t urging Song Bunan. Old Father refused to take the garlic cloves and instead handed him the mortar, replying that since the older brother hadn’t married yet, it wouldn’t be proper for the younger brother to marry first.
Song Buxian felt utterly exhausted.
“Wow! Mom, this one you picked is so beautiful! Ahhhhhh it’s so cute!” Song Bunan’s scream threatened to break through the ceiling. Song Buxian could already imagine what their neighbors would say upon seeing him—curious about what could astonish this thirty-year-old man who had seen so much.
It was a cat—more precisely, a plush toy that was half cat and half shark, about one and a half meters long. Song Bunan hugged it tightly; he was nearly as tall as it was. There were two of these toys, one blue and one gray. Seeing him peek out, Song Bunan excitedly held up the toy and shouted for him to choose a color. The garlic in his hand was indeed garlic; Song Buxian pretended not to see and retreated back into the kitchen while behind him came his brother's persistent voice saying he wanted the blue one.
“Has anything happened with Bunan recently?” As he began to peel the scallions, Dad suddenly asked after finishing a portion of the side dish. Song Buxian quickly recalled the recent events and replied that Song Bunan had been quite well, happily going about his days.
Dad nodded in response and continued, mentioning that he had heard rumors about a girl visiting. He asked if it was true or not. Song Buxian couldn't help but laugh and admitted that it was true, but he hadn't yet found a way to express his feelings to her; they had only shared a couple of meals together to get acquainted.
“That sister cooks really well! And she makes dishes that big brother can’t even prepare!” At some point, Song Bunan had sneaked into the kitchen, grinning mischievously as he lifted the pot lid. With lightning speed, he grabbed a piece of Yellow Rice Cake from inside and, just before Song Buxian could swing the scallions at him, he bounced out of the kitchen, shouting that the sister must definitely like big brother and that he needed to work hard to win her over.
The mischievous younger brother didn’t even get a chance to enjoy the sweet rice cake before an exasperated older brother chased him out, stuffing his mouth full of scallions. Meanwhile, their parents watched the commotion, laughing so hard they nearly fell over.
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