Xiao Xian held onto that half of the melon, and after returning home, Zhuo Feng asked about the origin of the melon and huffed, then didn’t eat it, just sat on the sofa with arms crossed.
Feng Xing, after showering, ate some of the melon and couldn’t stop praising it.
"What’s there to praise? You guys actually enjoy a melon given by that old man. Just you wait, I’ll also grow melons that are thousands and millions of times tastier. It’s just a Hami melon. How delicious can it get?" Not convinced, Zhuo Feng also cut a piece and crammed a huge chunk into her mouth.
The other two pairs of eyes on the sofa were staring at her motionless cheeks, almost swallowing Zhuo Feng’s tongue with the melon.
"So sweet, how can it be this sweet, and so crisp," Zhuo Feng almost wanted to slap her own unguarded mouth, "Actually, it’s not that sweet, just a little bit sweeter than normal ones, maybe they used some kind of chemical."
Those two pairs of eyes on the sofa looked at her again, Zhuo Feng couldn’t take it anymore and changed her tone: "Don’t look at me like that, don’t you find it strange? An old man, of his age, talking neither about money nor expertise, how can he grow such a sweet melon. Wait, what’s with that look, what attitude, I’m criticizing the situation, not the person."
"Xiao Xian, go and wash up then sleep," Feng Xing, obviously very interested, tidied up the melon rinds on the table, and in the time of two sentences, Zhuo Feng swallowed two more big chunks of melon.
"Aunt, isn’t there a saying, ’a soft mouth from eating someone else’s food, and short hands from taking someone else’s things,’" before going to shower, Xiao Xian didn’t forget to throw this line at Zhuo Feng.
"Ah, this child, when did she learn to be so sharp-tongued." Zhuo Feng protested dissatisfiedly, but unfortunately, there was no one in the hall at the moment, the only response she got was from a sobbing female protagonist in a TV drama.
Early Sunday morning, Feng Xing was awakened by an urgent slew of phone calls.
"It’s early morning, no need to answer," Zhuo Feng turned over, pressed the pillow against her ear, and continued to sleep.
"It could be your parents," both Feng Xing’s and Zhuo Feng’s parents, possibly his biological and her in-laws, old as they are, liked to call early in the morning.
After a while, Feng Xing in the living room shouted towards Xiao Xian’s bedroom: "Xiao Xian, your grandpa is calling, get up and take it."
Zhuo Feng, who was dreaming about growing incredibly sweet Hami melons, was jolted awake as if dozens of alarms rang simultaneously; she sat up abruptly.
"Not sleeping a bit more? It’s just past six," Feng Xing picked up the pillow his wife had thrown onto the floor, seeing her with tousled hair and eyes wider than a goldfish’s.
"Who did you just say was calling? Xiao Xian’s grandpa? Who asked you to wake Xiao Xian?" Zhuo Feng, still irritable from waking up, threw another pillow at Feng Xing.
"Ah Feng, after all, they are grandfather and grandson. After you brought back Xiao Xian, you mentioned many times how sensible he is. It’s because of the good upbringing by her grandpa," Feng Xing knowing his wife’s temper, also knew how hard Zhuo Feng had worked to find Xiao Xian over the past four-plus years.
Zhuo Feng didn’t dare to tell her family about searching for Xiao Xian to prevent them from facing repeated disappointment, saved up her pocket money, and stayed in Tianjin to work during winter and summer vacations, using all the money she earned for the search. Two years ago, after randomly encountering Zhu Shijun at Guiyang Police Station, she searched alone in unfamiliar Guiyang for over a month. When she returned, she was near collapsing.
"The good upbringing is because Xiao Xian is our Zhuo Family’s own flesh and blood, she was born a good child," Zhuo Feng said, feeling a guilty panic; true enough, Xiao Xian before age six had nothing to do with being sensible.
"Ah, stop worrying unnecessarily, if you really didn’t want the child to contact him, why did you give them our home phone number," Feng Xing sat back down on the bed, consoling the completely sleepless Zhuo Feng.
"I just couldn’t let go of my image, wanted to establish a generous and considerate aunt image in front of Xiao Xian," Zhuo Feng, barefoot, walked to the door, pressed her right ear against it, listening to the noise outside. Xiao Xian sounded quite happy; that child still missed her days in the mountains, right? A wave of loss washed over Zhuo Feng’s heart, just like when her own daughter doesn’t recognize her mother.
"The call was made by a villager named San Gouzi, with a bustling noise around, from the tone of the conversation, there seemed to be quite a few people near the phone," Feng Xing watched Zhuo Feng’s actions amusedly.
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