Tian Sangsang placed three bowls of vibrant, aromatic oil-pulled noodles, their colors interwoven in red, green, and white, onto the table in the main room. Just as she was about to call out, Zhao Chun had already come out holding Meng Shuyan, drawn by the enticing smell.
"Come, Shuyan." Zhao Chun gently set Meng Shuyan down on a chair, handed him a pair of chopsticks, and then took a seat himself.
After bringing out three glasses of orange juice, Tian Sangsang softly said, "Let's dig in."
Turning sideways, she reminded Meng Shuyan, "Son, if you think it's too spicy, tell Mama, or have some juice, alright?"
Meng Shuyan obediently nodded.
Zhao Chun watched Tian Sangsang, who had calmly picked up her chopsticks and started eating the noodles. Each coarse strand, resembling leek leaves, coated with chili powder, was stimulating his fragile and aggrieved feelings.
