Chapter 88: Father’s Birthday
It was snowing.
Jiang Mianmian lay against the window, watching the snowflakes drifting outside.
She was filled with wonder.
This was the first snow of winter.
It was also the first snow of her life.
Her small stature only reached the bottom of the wooden window; to see outside, she had to pull on the wooden window frame and stand on tiptoe.
Watching the snowflakes drift and drift, the well cover in the courtyard slowly turned white.
The black earth also turned white.
She saw Mother hurry out and return to the room carrying a large bundle of firewood.
A shout came from the room next door, from Elder Sister.
“Ah!”
Then came the voice of her Elder Brother.
“Don’t make such a fuss. You’re a young lady; you won’t be able to get married like this.”
“Mother said we’re making dumplings because it’s snowing! Ahhh, we didn’t even get to eat dumplings last Lunar New Year!” Elder Sister’s voice was filled with irrepressible excitement.
Jiang Mianmian took Ant out of her pocket and placed it on the windowsill. Seeing it curl up from the cold and try to hide, she put Ant back into her pocket.
Ants are cold-blooded creatures and are very active in autumn. During autumn, Jiang Mianmian often harvested all kinds of food.
In winter, Ant also became lazy. Most of the time, it liked to stay by her side, and she often carried it in her pocket.
Jiang Mianmian liked carrying Ant now because, with Ant, she was a tidy baby; she wouldn’t drop food everywhere when she ate.
Jiang Mianmian watched the snow for a long time.
Until a figure picked her up.
It was Father.
Jiang Changtian had finished his tasks and returned to see his little daughter standing on tiptoe, holding onto the windowsill and looking outside. Her small figure gave off a strange sense of loneliness.
He picked her up and touched his daughter’s cheeks and hands; they were ice-cold.
It seemed she had been standing there for a long time.
He couldn’t help but ask, “Mianmian, what are you looking at?”
Jiang Mianmian, her nose red, said, “Looking at the white.”
“That is snow. It’s snowing,” Jiang Changtian said, holding his daughter as they looked out the window.
“Husband, Husband, bring Mianmian over here,” Mother’s voice called from the next room.
It broke the somewhat distant and fragile atmosphere between the Father and daughter.
Jiang Changtian carried his daughter to the next room, which was the kitchen.
Qin Luoxia’s strong figure was kneading dough.
Jiang Feng was chopping filling.
Jiang Yu was tending the fire.
Qin Luoxia used her elbow to brush away a stray lock of hair, smiling as she said, “Husband, we’re making dumplings for dinner tonight; come and help.”
“Alright.” Jiang Changtian placed his daughter in her small chair and began to roll up his sleeves.
It revealed his slender arms.
Jiang Yu was so happy she was like an Ant on a hot pan, spinning around in the small kitchen.
Qin Luoxia finished kneading the dough, deftly rolled it into a long strip, and then pulled off small pieces with her hands.
“In a moment, you all roll these small dough balls until they’re round, then flatten them with a rolling pin, or just pat them flat or pinch them flat—either should work. I’ll prepare the filling, and once it’s ready, we can wrap them.”
Jiang Mianmian received a small piece of dough.
She rolled the dough ball, watching Mother sprinkle salt, minced meat, and wild green onions into the filling. Mother was pinching her fingers as if she were sprinkling arsenic… ( ⊙ o ⊙ )…
Jiang Mianmian tapped her own head. Why did she have such a strange thought?
Jiang Yu, Jiang Feng, and Father gathered around the table to roll the dough.
Mother had also finished preparing the filling: plenty of wild vegetables, a little meat, a little pickled vegetables, a little salt, a little wild green onion, and finally, a thick piece of lard.
She mixed the wild vegetables until they were glistening with oil.
The whole family worked together, gathering around the small table to wrap dumplings.
Except for Jiang Mianmian; she was rolling dough balls, as her hand coordination wasn’t that strong yet.
Father was also a bit slow, but his dumplings were very beautiful, as delicate as handmade pouches.
Mother was the quickest; she was deft at everything.
With her there, the room felt warm.
Outside, the snow was falling harder. The slender branches couldn’t bear the weight and made faint cracking sounds.
The snow fell to the ground, and the layer closest to the earth quickly melted into water, seeping into the ground.
But the surface was quickly covered by new snow, layer upon layer, like a thick blanket.
The water in the pot was bubbling and boiling; the wrapped dumplings were ready to go in. The fire was burning fiercely, illuminating Elder Sister’s flushed face.
Jiang Mianmian noticed that Elder Sister’s face seemed rounder lately.
Jiang Feng was helping to bring the dumplings, and Father was wiping the table.
Jiang Mianmian was still playing with the piece of dough in her hands.
She flattened the dough, took out Ant, and used it to make imprints. Soon, the dough was covered in the shape of Ant, a long line of them.
The family was already accustomed to their little daughter liking to play with Ants.
Steam rose from the pot, and the aroma began to drift through the air.
Qin Luoxia stirred the bottom of the pot with a large spatula, adding a little cold water from time to time.
Watching the large dumplings bob up and down, she wiped her hands on her apron and said, “Husband, why don’t we have a drink?”
Jiang Changtian was a little surprised, but he would never refuse his wife’s request.
He nodded.
Qin Luoxia told Jiang Feng to watch the water, and she went to get the wine.
Jiang Mianmian thought to herself that their family had really become wealthy. Before, the whole family had to share the water used to rinse the pot, and now they actually had wine?
She was curious about where Mother had hidden the wine.
She reached out her hands and called, “Mother, hold me.”
Qin Luoxia didn’t realize her daughter wanted to see where she hid things; she reached out, picked her daughter up, and carried her on her back.
Then they went to the cellar. Jiang Mianmian saw that the cellar was wide, large, and deep; Mother had dug out a basement.
Mother rummaged in the corner and brought out a small jar.
There was snow outside, and Mother’s footprints were left one by one.
Jiang Mianmian, on Mother’s back, watched the winding footprints, feeling very close to her.
Back in the kitchen, it was steaming hot, and the dumplings had floated to the top; they were ready to eat.
Mother served everyone a large bowl.
In the middle, she placed the pickled vegetables.
She opened the jar and poured a bowl of wine for Father, Jiang Feng, and Jiang Yu.
She poured a bowl of dumpling soup for Jiang Mianmian, blatantly tricking her, and pretended it was poured from the jar by blocking the view with it.
Jiang Mianmian:… Even if I’m silly, everyone else’s wine doesn’t steam, but mine does; I can tell the difference.
Qin Luoxia lifted her wine first, then said to her husband, “Today is your birthday. Let’s have a good meal and a good drink. I wish for our days ahead to get better and better.”
Tears welled up in Jiang Changtian’s eyes in an instant.
He had forgotten.
He didn’t remember that today was his birthday.
No one in his family had ever celebrated it for him.
Jiang Feng handed Father a brush, “I made this myself, Father, for you.”
Jiang Yu also took out a crooked handkerchief; it was unclear what was on it. She gave the handkerchief to Father and said, “I wish Father good health and that you grow younger as you live.”
Jiang Mianmian:…
Unbelievable. Such a big event, and they actually kept it from a little child like her. She hadn’t prepared a gift.
Jiang Mianmian reached into her pocket, digging and digging, and finally pulled out a small stone that Ant had carried for her. It was round, yellow, and quite pretty; she had kept it in her pocket.
“Father, here, here, happy birthday, Father.” Jiang Mianmian handed over the small stone.
Jiang Changtian took the item the child gave him.
He picked up the wine in front of him and drank it all in one gulp.
He didn’t drink alcohol; ever since being wrongly accused that one time, he had never touched alcohol.
But today, with his wife and children before him, he could drink with peace of mind.
Jiang Changtian had a very poor tolerance for alcohol; one bowl and he was out.
He slumped onto the table, letting out a faint snore.
He was asleep.
Mother carried Father away.
It was snowing outside.
Jiang Mianmian ate dumplings with Elder Brother and Elder Sister.
So, today was Father’s birthday.
Mother had been gone for a long time and hadn’t returned~~
The dumplings had gone cold.
What a pity.
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