Abstinence Pei, don't be too sweet when chasing your wife

The chirping of cicadas was softened by the August heat, and the residual warmth of the copper door knocker of the Pei family's old house gradually cooled down, but every member of the Pei family was in high spirits, as they were mobilizing the entire family for a birthday party.

As dusk spread over the carved window lattices, the sandalwood abacus on the long table suddenly made a "clattering" sound, startling Pei's father so much that his glasses slipped to the tip of his nose.

"Next Saturday, the 23rd day of the seventh lunar month." His skinny fingers tapped the yellowed calendar. "That's Mom's 70th birthday." The abacus beads clattered crisply. "We have to keep it a secret from her and give her a good birthday party. Last time I mentioned a birthday party, she made 'waste of money' sound like a tongue twister."

Mother Pei took off her gold-rimmed glasses and wiped them, but the gaze behind the lenses was as bright as a silver needle.

She shook out the red silk, and the golden lines on the longevity painting flowed under the floor lamp: "The banquet must follow the old rules to set up an eight-immortal table, and the menu will all be from her handwritten copy--" Before she finished speaking, the crisp sound of porcelain colliding came from the kitchen. Pei's father had already tiptoed to reach the aged Huadiao in the wall cabinet, and his white hair was faintly visible in the steam.

Pei Luonan twirled his pen, and the to-do items on his notebook were neatly listed: holographic projection replica of the sugar painting stall, AR scanning of souvenirs to trigger Pingtan, and customized sugar-free eight-treasure rice.

When the pen tip stopped at the item "send away the birthday boy", Shi Yunchen's car carrying Kong Haoyu roared closer and closer.

As soon as the two entered the living room, Shi Yunchen opened up in a loud voice: "The opera club is here. Master Zhou is performing 'Jade Dragonfly' for three consecutive shows. The tickets are already locked for the VIP box."

He took out a gold-stamped theater ticket and waved it in front of Pei Luonan, "Just say that the organizer has selected a veteran actor to come to the theater."

Kong Haoyu pushed his gold-rimmed glasses, and the toolbox made a dull sound on the floor.

He pulled out a coin-sized camera, its metal casing reflecting the longevity character Pei Ma had newly embroidered. "There are three cameras installed on the corners of the ancestral hall. They can even capture an old lady counting ants."

His fingertips slid across the tablet, marking every corner of the surveillance footage with a grid. "This microphone is hidden in the base of the vase. It can pick up whispers from ten feet away."

Pei Luochuan suddenly poked his head out from behind the computer screen. He pulled over the whiteboard, which was covered with sticky notes like osmanthus flowers: the birthday party flow chart used different colors to distinguish time periods, the location of the first aid kit was marked with a red circle, and even the warm honey water that grandma had to drink when she got up at night was accurate to milliliters.

"The restoration progress of the old photos is 87%!" The boy typed excitedly on the keyboard. In the holographic projection preview, Pei Luonan in overalls was riding on his grandfather's shoulders, and a sugar-painted phoenix was spreading its wings from the photo paper from thirty years ago.

"Don't just talk!" Dad Pei pushed open the kitchen door with an enamel basin in his hand, and the sweet aroma of red bean paste mixed with the rich aroma of lard spread.

A half-copied recipe booklet peeked out of his apron pocket, the candied sugar on the edges gleaming hard. "Master Wang made this according to Mom's recipe. Try it and see if it's crunchy enough."

Pei Luonan scooped up the red bean paste with a wooden spoon; its delicate texture was laced with chopped dried tangerine peel. "That's the taste," he recalled his childhood, when he'd squat by the stove, watching his grandmother crush osmanthus flowers in a coarse earthenware bowl.

Shi Yunchen had already grabbed the spoon and stuffed it into his mouth. He was so hot that he had to inhale and his breath was unclear: "It's even better than the desserts of Michelin three-star restaurants!"

"The sugar painting turntable must be reproduced according to the old photo." Mother Pei spread the yellowed photo paper on the table. The young Grandma Pei with a pigtail stood in front of the stall, outlining a phoenix on the stone slab with a bamboo spoon.

Kong Haoyu immediately pulled out his laser rangefinder, his leather jacket sleeve sweeping across the rice paper on the table. "Delivery will be in three days. Even the rust on the bearings will be made to look like it's from 1973."

Pei Luochuan suddenly raised his hand: "Scanning the patterns on the turntable can create AR!" He quickly tapped the keyboard, and the virtual sugar painting on the demonstration interface rotated with his fingers. "Scanning the phoenix on the souvenir will pop up a recording of my grandmother's Pingtan performance when she was young."

Mother Pei suddenly put down her embroidery and her eyes fell on Pei Luonan: "Luonan, did you call Xingxing?" She twisted the gold thread around her fingertips, "The old lady has been talking about her for a long time. She said that she always puts the Suzhou embroidery shawl she gave her last time next to her pillow when she sleeps."

The tip of Pei Luonan's ear turned red instantly, and the pen left an ink spot on the paper.

"I mentioned it a few days ago..."

"How can I carry it all?" Mother Pei fished out a brocade box from her sewing basket and opened it, revealing a pair of jade earrings. The water from the earrings shone in the light. "These are what your grandmother wore when she was young. She said she wanted to pass them down to her granddaughter-in-law." She pushed the box toward her son and said, "On the birthday banquet, let Xingxing sit next to the old lady."

Shi Yunchen whistled: "Boss Pei, is this going to be a double celebration?" He dodged the notebook thrown by Pei Luonan and said, "Don't be upset. I bet fifty yuan that the old lady has already prepared the tea to change her mind."

Pei Luonan's palms were sweating as he held the phone, and the cat emoticons in the dialog box were dazzling in the moonlight.

He was about to type when Mother Pei suddenly pressed the back of his hand: "Don't send the message." She pulled a yellowed piece of letter paper from the bottom of the sewing basket and said, "Use this."

It was a sheet of vertically laid-out letter paper from the eighties, its edges curled and frayed. Mother Pei pulled out a pen, the scent of ink mingling with the fragrance of osmanthus flowers filling the air. "Write it this way: begin with 'It's nice to see you,' and sign it off with 'Sincerely waiting'—your grandmother loved that when she was young." She paused, "And write the address of the old house as '23 Guihua Lane.' She was nostalgic."

Shi Yunchen came over to watch the fun, knocking over the inkstone with his leather jacket. "Wow, has Boss Pei changed his career to become a young master in the Republic of China?" He dodged the embroidery frame swung by Pei's mother. "But seriously, it needs sealing wax! There's a friend in my club who makes retro handmade things..."

Kong Haoyu had already taken out his heat gun, and a gear-shaped wax seal fell out of his toolbox. "Use this, engraved with the door knocker pattern of the Pei family's old house." He dripped wax onto the envelope with a smooth and flowing motion. "I learned this last time when I helped Fangfei repair an antique motorcycle."

Pei Luochuan suddenly turned the tablet around, and an AR invitation design popped up on the screen: "Scanning the wax seal can trigger a voice message! Let me record a segment of 'Looking Forward to Your Coming', and I guarantee Sister Gu..." Before he could finish his words, Pei Luonan hit him on the back of his head.

Pei's father called out from the kitchen, "Don't be so literary! Just say, 'I made her favorite crab meatballs.'"

Father Pei came out with a porcelain plate for tasting, his apron stained with crab roe. "Last time she came, she ate two in a row."

Mother Pei stuffed the sealed letter into the brocade box and placed a dried osmanthus flower inside.

Then let Shi Yunchen be the postman to deliver it to Gu Fanxing.

As the night deepens, the old house becomes more and more lively.

Under the lamp, Pei Ma was weaving red strings for the jade earrings, and the gold strings were weaving a lotus pattern.

Dad Pei repeatedly weighed the salt spoon according to the recipe, and he didn't even notice that his glasses had slipped to the tip of his nose.

Pei Luochuan lay on the ground to adjust the angle of the holographic projection, and even calibrated the wood grain of the rattan chair that his grandmother often sat on three times.

Pei Luonan stood alone on the terrace, looking at the street lights extending from the alley entrance.

The phone vibrated in his pocket, and Shi Yunchen sent him a short video: the carved iron gate slowly opened, and Gu Fanxing stood in the moonlight wearing a light green cheongsam, with a white jasmine flower in her hair.

When she unfolded the letter, the door knocker pattern of the Pei family's old house was clearly visible in the close-up shot of the broken wax seal.

"She's got it." Shi Yunchen's message popped up, "She said she wants to frame the letter and keep it as a family heirloom."

The accompanying picture shows the silhouette of Gu Fanxing holding a piece of letter paper, with the eaves of the Pei family villa supporting a half-moon in the background.

The night wind swept through the osmanthus trees in the yard, and the flower buds trembled slightly.

Pei Luonan took out the jade earrings from the inside pocket of his suit. The cool touch was wrapped with the warmth of several generations.

From downstairs came the Pingtan tune hummed by Pei Ma, mixed with the squeaking sound of Shi Yunchen adjusting the gramophone. I suddenly felt that this birthday banquet, which was kept secret from the birthday boy, was more like a jar of sweet-scented osmanthus wine that became more mellow as it was stored - every surprise prepared in secret became doubly sweet in the moonlight.

Pei Luonan put the earrings away again and handed them to Pei's mother.

When he left the old house, he seemed to see Grandma Pei sitting in a rocking chair wrapped in a thin blanket, her white hair swaying gently in the wind.

She looked at the stars in the sky, and the corners of her mouth curled up like the curve of sugar painting when she was young - there are some feelings that you hid from me and I hid from you, but in time they grew into a reunion and condensed into a heritage of love.