Oh no! I've only been a freshman and I've already been targeted by a mean upperclassman.

Li Chen glanced at his father.

He drank the herbal tea so naturally. His dad's acting skills are better than his.

My phone vibrated. It was from group 302.

Li Chen did not reply.

Yan Xi reached out her hand again. This time it wasn't her little finger. It was her whole hand. Five fingers, loosely resting on the back of his hand.

Li Mohan glanced at it.

He didn't say anything.

I picked up my teacup and took another sip of the chilled tea.

Shen Ruolan stood up. "What are we having for lunch? Does Xiaoxi want anything to eat?"

"Auntie can do anything."

"No, that won't do. You don't need to be polite here. Just tell me what you want to eat. Chenchen has always been able to ask for whatever he wants to eat since he was little—"

"mom."

"When you were five, you cried for sweet and sour pork ribs at two in the morning. Your dad went to the kitchen in his pajamas and made them."

Li Mohan's teacup stopped in mid-air.

Yan Xi turned to look at Li Mohan.

"Did Uncle make pork ribs in the middle of the night?"

Li Mohan put down his teacup. "It's just an occasional thing."

"He did it for three years," Shen Ruolan said. "From when you were five to seven. Then your grandfather took over."

Yan Xi looked at Li Mohan's profile.

"Is Uncle's pork ribs delicious?"

Li Chen thought for a moment. "It's alright. But not as good as my grandfather's."

Li Mohan's lips twitched.

"Of course. Your grandfather's a professional. You woke me up at two in the morning." His tone was muffled. But his finger twirled around the teacup. "But you always finish it."

"Because I'm hungry."

"Because I did it."

The father and son looked at each other for a second.

Yan Xi pressed her hand on the back of Li Chen's hand.

"Noon," she said.

Shen Ruolan looked over.

"If possible, I'd like to eat my uncle's sweet and sour pork ribs."

The teacup in Li Mohan's hand wobbled slightly.

Shen Ruolan's smile widened.

"Old Li, did you hear that?"

Li Mohan stood up. "The ribs are in the freezer. I'll go defrost them."

He walked into the kitchen three beats faster than before.

Li Chen watched his father's figure disappear through the kitchen doorway.

Yan Xi's voice sounded beside him. Very softly. Only he could hear it.

"Your dad walks with his weight shifted to the left, just like you."

Li Chen looked down at her hand, which was resting on the back of his hand.

The faint ink mark on her ring finger was still there.

Li Mohan stood in the kitchen for twenty minutes.

The pork ribs were thawing in warm water. He leaned against the stove, his right thumb rubbing the edge of the stove.

Shen Ruolan walked in.

Your eyes are red.

"Oil fumes".

"You haven't fired yet."

Li Mohan turned around and turned on the tap, splashing water on his face.

"She asked me to make pork ribs."

"I heard you."

"She wasn't just being polite. She was serious."

Shen Ruolan took a large bowl from the cupboard and placed it on the stove.

How do you know she's serious?

"She was looking at me as she spoke. She didn't look at Chenchen. If she were just being polite, she would have looked at Chenchen first to confirm."

Shen Ruolan leaned against the refrigerator, watching her husband bend down and rummage through the spice cabinet.

"Your analysis is becoming more and more like Chen Mo's."

"Who?"

"Chenchen's roommate. The one who studies psychology."

Li Mohan found a bottle of vinegar. He also found white sugar.

"Do you still remember the sweet and sour ratio?" Shen Ruolan asked.

"Three spoonfuls of sugar, two spoonfuls of vinegar, one spoonful of soy sauce, and half a bowl of water."

"I haven't done it for fifteen years."

"Some things don't require practice." He took the ribs out of the water and placed them on the cutting board. He picked up a knife.

Shen Ruolan looked at his hand holding the knife.

Your hands are shaking.

"The knife is dull."

"You're nervous."

Li Mohan's knife fell. He chopped off the first piece. The bone broke cleanly.

"I'm not nervous. I am—" He paused.

"What are you?"

He didn't answer. He kept chopping.

Shen Ruolan walked behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and pressed her face against his back.

"Chenchen chose this person. It can't be wrong."

Li Mohan stopped chopping the ribs.

"I know." His voice was muffled in his chest. "I just... didn't expect it."

"What didn't you think of?"

"I never expected that he would actually find someone with better judgment than I did back then."

Shen Ruolan laughed. A laugh muffled on his back.

"Then you have to admit it. Your son is better than you."

Li Mohan took a deep breath. "Blanch the ribs first. Bring the ginger."

"Don't put ginger in it. She won't eat it."

"...I know. I'm using it to remove the fishy smell from the ribs. Don't put them in the dish. Take them out after blanching."

Shen Ruolan sliced ​​two pieces of ginger and handed them over.

"You still remember not putting it on the plate."

I read Chenchen's list of foods to avoid six times yesterday.

The two of them got busy in the kitchen.

In the living room, Li Chen and Yan Xi sat on the sofa.

Yan Xi's phone lit up. She glanced at it.

Lonely Song.

[Leng Qingge: I'm asking you a question, so answer me!!!!]

Yan Xi is typing.

[Yan Xi: We'll talk about it when we get back.]

[Leng Qingge: Okay!!]

Yan Xi lock screen.

Li Chen looked at her profile. "You really didn't open the red envelope?"

"without."

Why?

Yan Xi placed her phone face down on the sofa. "This is the first red envelope your mom gave you. Make sure she watches you open it."

Li Chen was stunned for two seconds.

"What you've learned—"

"I didn't learn it." Yan Xi leaned back on the sofa, her gaze falling towards the kitchen. The sound of ribs being added to the oil came from inside. "When your dad was cooking, the oil was too hot. You could hear that popping sound; the oil was at least 190 degrees Celsius."

"You need to go and say—"

"Your mom is here."

Li Chen shut up.

About forty minutes later, Li Mohan brought out a plate of sweet and sour pork ribs from the kitchen.

The color is a bit dark. The caramel coating is a little too thick. But the ribs are very uniform in size. Each piece is about two fingers wide.

Four people sat at the dining table.

Li Mohan placed the plate of ribs in front of Yan Xi.

"Try it."

He deliberately spoke in a casual tone. But the angle at which he rested his chopsticks on the bowl was three degrees different from usual.

Yan Xi picked up a piece. She glanced at the cross-section first.

The meat wasn't completely deboned. It was cooked two minutes too early. But the sweet and sour sauce had a great consistency. The sweet and sour ratio was close to the classic recipe.

She took a bite. Chewed it twice.

Li Mohan started rubbing the rim of the bowl with his right thumb again.

"It's delicious," Yan Xi said.

Li Mohan stopped using his thumb.

"How about what Chenchen made?" Shen Ruolan interjected from the side.

Yan Xi took another bite. "It's different."

"How are they different?"

Yan Xi put down her chopsticks.

"Li Chen cooks like he's writing code. Precise. He's calculated every step. But Uncle's cooking—"

She glanced at Li Mohan.

"It's like paying off a debt."

Li Mohan's hand froze in mid-air.

"He gets up at two in the morning to make sweet and sour pork ribs for his five-year-old son. He's been doing it for three years. It's not just cooking. It's using the warmth of the pork ribs to make up for every day he's not present during.

The dining table fell silent.

Shen Ruolan lowered her head.

Li Mohan lowered his hand and placed it on the table. He clenched his fist briefly, then relaxed it.

"Let's eat," he said, his voice hoarse.