Rebirth of Chinese Entertainment, the Diary of a 95 Flower

Chapter 84: Precocious Child, Swallowing the Grievances with a Smile
Jiang Yang took out a tissue and gently wiped away Yang Chaoyue's tears with his fingertips. He imitated Yang Chaoyue's tone of voice: "Let's go, let's stop writing. Let's have dinner, let's have dinner, and let's have some Yancheng specialties made by Chaoyue."

"It's about eating, Brother Yang, your pronunciation is not standard."

"Hey, you're correcting me."

Coming to the living room, Jiang Yang removed the lids of the three dishes on the dining table.

The aroma mixed with pepper that I smelled in the master bedroom earlier was indeed from the stewed earth.

When I poked it gently with chopsticks, the whole piece of fat in the bowl shook three times before it recovered.

It was still warm, with visible trails of warm mist rising from it.

"It smells so good." Jiang Yang took a deep breath: "I like this one."

"Brother Yang, just sit down. I'll serve you some food."

Hearing Jiang Yang praising his cooking skills, Yang Chaoyue happily went to the kitchen to get some rice and took off his apron.

The dish in the middle is lotus root powder meatballs. Jiang Yang has eaten it several times, and they were all made by Yang Chaoyue.

The dumplings in the celadon bowl floated in the osmanthus syrup, their surface glistening.

Jiang Yang used a porcelain spoon to tap the meatballs, causing them to shake elastically.

After being scooped out, it trembles slightly in the center of the spoon, and the surface is covered with sweet sesame seeds.

The remaining Binhai sausage was something Yang Chaoyue had never made before and was served on the table for the first time.

Cut the sausage slices diagonally and place them in the center of the bowl.

The diced fat becomes translucent due to the heat, with slightly crispy curls at the edges, and the lard accumulated at the bottom of the plate forms a shallow depression.

It's very pleasing to the eyes.

"Chao Yue not only prepared the meal for me but also served it to me on the table. How can I deserve such treatment? In my hometown, not only do I have to serve food to my father, but sometimes I even have to pour wine for the boss." Jiang Yang muttered.

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I felt something was wrong.

The next meal...the next meal...should be a meal!

While eating the Yancheng cuisine made by Yang Chaoyue, my accent almost became that of Yancheng.

I am a real kid from the foggy city!

Yang Chaoyue filled two bowls of rice and came out. When he passed the balcony, he paused and took a look outside.

In the commercial buildings opposite, lights were on in every house.

Look carefully.

You can vaguely see couples sitting together eating hot pot in some houses, and elderly people sitting on the sofa watching the news in some houses.

A young couple is sitting on the sofa playing mobile games.

Some parents turn off the cartoons on TV and urge their children to do their homework.

Every time I see this kind of happy scene between parents and children, I feel envious but also anxious.

What I yearn for is that I hope I can be one of the children in that class and be loved by their parents.

What makes me anxious is that I worry that I will become one of those parents in the future and not know how to love my own children.

I don’t know how to accompany my children to grow up.

She didn't want her future children to suddenly lose their parents' complete love as they grew up, just like she did.

I am also afraid that my future marriage will be a repeat of my parents'.

"Brother Yang, dinner is coming." Yang Chaoyue opened the glass door of the balcony and the warm air swept over his body.

Seeing Jiang Yang stuffing a piece of Binhai coriander into his mouth, with oil stains on the corners of his lips, Yang Chaoyue's smile froze: "I'm eating it without waiting. The chopsticks are right on the table, but you don't use them and eat with your hands. You're from India!"

"It tastes good. It's not dirty, but you won't get sick if you eat it."

In the season when breath turns to frost, the street lights emit dim circles of light.

The humming sound of the air conditioner outdoor unit on the balcony continued to vibrate, and the temperature in the living room gradually rose.

He ate most of the stewed earthenware on the table.

The lotus root powder balls were swept away.

There are still a few slices of coastal sausage left, which I serve as a side dish.

There was a tablet on the dining table, playing the recently popular TV series "Nirvana in Fire".

While chatting with Yang Chaoyue, Jiang Yang looked at the screen on the tablet seriously and attentively.

Try to figure out the characters' micro-expressions, the rhythm of their dialogues, and the degree of body language's adaptation to the camera language.

There was no such habit before.

As more and more people learn about acting skills, I subconsciously think about this when I watch TV dramas or movies.

One can easily notice the eye grammar of Hu Xuan's half-closed pupils when he plays Mei Changsu, and the small gesture of Wang Kai twisting his Buddhist beads with his little finger slightly raised when he plays the emperor.

Suddenly, an iPhone rang in the room. "Chaoyue, your phone's ringing," Jiang Yang said casually, chopsticks in hand, his gaze fixed on his tablet, paying attention to the pauses in the dialogue.

Yang Chaoyue took out his old Nokia flip phone and put it on the table: "My phone doesn't ring like this."

"Oh, by the way, I almost forgot. I'll get you a smartphone later."

"Don't change it, it's a waste of money."

"Feature phones are becoming obsolete. In a few years, the biggest function of Nokia will be to crack walnuts." Jiang Yang said casually.

Yang Chaoyue suddenly answered seriously: "Well, that's what my mother said when she bought this phone for me."

Jiang Yang tilted his head to look over and spoke in a slower tone, "Did your mother buy this phone for you?"

I often hear Yang Chaoyue talk about her father.

Knowing that Yang Chaoyue's parents divorced when he was a child and that he lived with his father, Jiang Yang would not take the initiative to talk about Yang Chaoyue's family.

This is the first time I heard Yang Chaoyue talk about her mother.

"My mother bought me this phone when I was working at the Jiaxing Zipper Factory. It was a new model at the time, but after a few years, it's become obsolete without me noticing. It seems to be on the verge of being eliminated by the times."

More than just mobile phones.

In the drawer of my room in my hometown of Yancheng, there is a faded plastic children's watch that my mother bought for me.

And an old photo with my mother, with curled edges.

These cheap things carry emotional memories.

Yang Chaoyue rubbed the damaged edge of his phone. "I was working on the assembly line at that zipper factory when a machine pierced my finger. The pain was so intense that I called my mother to ask what to do. She was so anxious that she took me to the clinic to get medicine and bandage the wound. She told me not to work on the assembly line like her, as it was too dangerous. She told me to go back home and that she would work hard to support me, so that I could continue my studies, finish high school, and go to university..."

Jiang Yang no longer focuses on the TV series and movies on his tablet.

Listen to Yang Chaoyue carefully without interrupting.

He also let his cell phone, which he didn't know where it fell in the room, keep ringing.

It was most likely Huang Lei's shot.

At this point, Huang Lei should have finished recording the variety show, discussed with the director of "Little Farewell" Wang Jun the roles he and Yang Chaoyue were going to play, and specifically contacted him about follow-up matters.

Don't rush to connect.

Huang Lei couldn't run away again, so he would be attacked again later.

It’s okay to be impolite. At worst, when I see Huang Lei, I can praise his cooking skills to death.

"Did you go back to your hometown at that time?" Jiang Yang asked.

“No.”

Yang Chaoyue shook his head, smiled, and said with a smile: "I came to Shanghai two years ago and now I am your employee."

"Didn't your mother say she would work hard to make money so you can study?"

"But my mother has her own family and her own children. If she supports my education, her own children won't be able to go to school... It doesn't matter to me. I had already dropped out of school anyway."

Yang Chaoyue spoke in a free and easy tone.

I don’t know when I learned to talk about the most painful things with a smile, because crying would seem inappropriate.

Jiang Yang saw it all but said nothing.

The understated tone speaks the heavy truth of growing up.

Precocious children swallow their grievances with a smile.

The pressure brought by taking on family responsibilities.

Yang Chaoyue noticed Jiang Yang was looking at her and quickly adjusted her smile to a brighter one:

"My sister lives in the village next to my hometown in Yancheng. She often comes to play with me. She is very naughty and loves to laugh. She longs for the big city. She inherited my mother's genes and looks very much like me when I was a child. She is in elementary school and has excellent academic performance."

The big city that my sister desperately wants to escape from is the distant place she longs for.

As the one who came out on top in the family, I have to bear the pressure of the whole family's expectations.

Sometimes when I see my sister smiling at me on the ridge of the field in my hometown, it feels like seeing myself ten years ago.

I hope my sister can continue her dream, but I am also afraid that she will repeat the same mistakes.

I am afraid that the same fate will happen to my sister.

When I tell my sister in my hometown to study hard, I can't help but think of the grievance that no one said this to me back then.

The corners of Yang Chaoyue's mouth remained curved, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

He picked up a piece of sausage from the plate and swallowed it stiffly.

His throat rolled, as if he was swallowing down his suppressed emotions.

I am the older sister, so I should be sensible.

(End of this chapter)