Back at home, Qin Guanglin rinsed the pots and pans and, following Teacher He’s instructions, began chopping vegetables rapidly.
The more he chopped, the more impressed he was with Teacher He. Despite having chopped so many times before, he still had to pay close attention to his hands, afraid of accidentally chopping them.
As the saying goes, practice makes perfect, but to reach her level of expertise, who knows how many times one has to cook... Eh, how come her hands are still so fair and tender?
Qin Guanglin felt increasingly amazed. Talent really couldn’t be compared. Qin’s Mom had been cooking for so many years, yet she was slightly inferior to her. Although both involved hard work, talent seemed more important by comparison.
Sitting on the sofa, Qin’s Mom occasionally turned to glance at the kitchen and nodded in satisfaction as she saw Qin Guanglin’s movements becoming ever more skilled.
It wasn’t in vain—after quarrels with his wife in the future, he’d not have to worry about being hungry and it could even improve marital feelings.
The aunt sat on the sofa with a glass of water, idly watching television.
She had planned to enjoy herself before arriving, expecting to stay at her sister-in-law’s place for a week, perhaps seek medical advice, and experience city life.
She didn’t expect it to be completely different when her brother was around. Not only was there no meat in the dishes, but her sister-in-law didn’t even enter the kitchen anymore. Every day, she let that youngster do the cooking. Moreover, he cooked a lot, and they would save what they couldn’t finish at night for the next afternoon.
Unfamiliar with the area, she didn’t know where to go out. After wandering around the park, where the groups of old men and women didn’t care to mingle with an outsider like her, she had no choice but to return and watch television.
It felt like prison life, but with the added luxury of a TV to watch freely.
"Aunt, I’ll be going back next week," she finally brought up after pondering for a while.
Life here wasn’t as comfortable as at home where, at the very least, she could chat with her neighbors.
Qin’s Mom didn’t show any intention of asking her to stay longer, "Oh, which day next week?"
"Uh... I’ll let you know next week." She suddenly felt discontent at the thought of returning without enjoying anything, especially having wasted the round trip fare.
She could have treated her sickness in the town. She came to the city because she couldn’t sit still at home and wanted to take advantage of the situation, but now felt cheated without any gains.
"Book your ticket in advance for a specific day; otherwise, the tickets might be sold out by then," Qin’s Mom kindly reminded her.
"Yeah, I know."
"Dinner’s ready! Come and eat." Qin Guanglin brought out the freshly cooked dishes, took a couple of steps back to examine his work, and snapped a photo.
He took a picture of each meal he made. Once compared with previous ones, the sense of achievement soared.
A memoir of a domestic husband, spot on.
For two people living together, no matter who cooks, it’s all part of life. Qin Guanglin never saw the term "domestic husband" as derogatory. Even if it were, he wouldn’t care. As long as he could secure Teacher He in marriage, what else mattered?
"It’s getting better and better," Qin’s Mom commented without even picking up her chopsticks yet, clearly impressed by just the appearance of the dishes, "You learn quite fast. I’ll teach you more soon..."
She paused then, realizing the aunt was still present; she didn’t continue, worried her words might encourage the aunt to extend her stay.
"Got it, got it," Qin Guanglin quickly caught on and glanced at his aunt, choosing not to say more.
It wasn’t that he despised this relative; he simply never considered her as one.
Years ago, after inadvertently hearing her talk about something akin to "husband-cursing," Qin Guanglin had crossed her off his list of close relatives. If it weren’t for the sake of Qin’s Mom during the holidays, he wouldn’t even bother with pleasantries, and would have driven her out long ago—or rather, not have let her in at all.
Some people really don’t deserve to be called relatives.
"It’s still so-so; maybe you should cook tomorrow, sister-in-law," the aunt remarked, not too pleased after tasting the food. How much could the youngster improve in just a few days?
Qin Guanglin couldn’t be bothered with her—he thought the meal was quite good, much better than his first attempt.
Seeing the two ignoring her, the aunt frowned, then suddenly remembered something, "Hey, didn’t that girl come back last night? I think I saw Guanglin leaving with her this morning."
"Hmm, didn’t come back." Qin’s Mom hummed while eating.
"Is she staying here tonight?" The aunt frowned and clicked her tongue, looking at Qin Guanglin, "Staying in Guanglin’s room?"
"What’s it to you?" Qin Guanglin liked her talk the least.
"This is too..." The aunt hesitated for a moment before swallowing the rest of her words, "Sister-in-law, aren’t you going to do something about this? Who behaves like this?"
Are girls from the city this casual? Bringing all sorts of people home, Guanglin has also started to pick up bad habits.
"What do you mean?" Qin’s Mom frowned upon hearing her, "Can’t people stay over when they’re dating?"
Qin Guanglin nodded, "Such a busybody."
"This is how she is even before they’re married..." The aunt seemed to disapprove of such girls; if Ting dared to do the same, she’d beat her to death.
"What’s it to you?" Qin Guanglin raised his eyebrow.
She had had enough of hearing about him, now she even wanted to speak ill of Teacher He?
"What do you mean, ’what’s it to me’..."
"Mind your own business." Qin Guanglin interrupted her again, "Why must you comment on everything? Can’t stand not talking?"
"Hey, I just..."
"Enough, stop talking. Why meddle in the affairs of the young?" Qin’s Mom also chimed in, wishing she could change her busybody habits.
"Hmph."
The aunt glanced at Qin Guanglin and stopped speaking.
She didn’t enjoy listening and didn’t want to talk either; he’d regret it when he ended up marrying a chaotic mess of a wife.
Qin Guanglin continued to eat nonchalantly. As long as she kept quiet, he pretended she didn’t exist, her nagging was unbearable at her age and getting angry with her wasn’t worth it.
His lips still felt numb; he had always found it slightly awkward.
He didn’t know how hard Teacher He had pressed; how could it have turned out like this.
Luckily, Qin’s Mom hadn’t noticed; otherwise, it would have been hard to explain. Was he supposed to say it was from spicy food?
He’d be fooling no one.
After dinner, Qin Guanglin didn’t go back to his bedroom as usual, but instead went to the studio to work on the Dragon Boat Festival painting.
After two days of contemplation, he had decided on a theme: the varied lives and stories of families.
The painting needed to be filled with the vibe of everyday life.
Many people say there is beauty in the mundane, yet can’t pinpoint where exactly that beauty lies.
Men rowing Dragon Boats, girls cheering on the shore, elders washing rice, women wrapping rice dumplings, children playing with rice dumplings, grains sticking to their smiling faces.
Children playing at the age meant for play, young people striving at the age meant for effort, lovers nestled together, spouses supporting each other.
Men and women, old and young, scattered across the canvas, displaying the human condition.
The simple and plain truths are the real ones; peace and happiness are the greatest blessings.
The beauty of this world lies in these trivial details.