In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 146, page 145: Finally Moving, Eldest Sister's Good News, Double Happiness
October 5th, Sunday.

The morning mist had not yet dissipated in the courtyard of the Shikumen house when Zhang Xiuying's urging voice pierced through the thin curtain:
"Hurry up! Pack the taro and celery into nets, and don't crush the water bamboo and cauliflower! The light is waiting to be turned on over there!"

At the edge of the pool, Li Guihua responded, bending even lower as she deftly stuffed two jin of gleaming taro into a bamboo basket. Beside her lay a bundle of vibrant green celery, water droplets clinging to the tips of its leaves, rolling down and splashing onto the cement pool edge, leaving a few damp marks.

Zhang Xiuying lowered the curtain and came out, bending down to pick up a head of cauliflower, weighing it in her hand. The snow-white, firm florets were heavy, carrying the cool scent of dew. She then picked up the bunch of tender water bamboo shoots, pinching the base with her fingertips; they were so tender they seemed to burst with juice.

"That's all." She straightened up, clapped her hands, and spoke with a hint of regret mixed with anticipation for the upcoming excitement.

I specially prepared vegetables for today's housewarming celebration dinner, but despite my best efforts, I could only gather these few kinds.

Yang Yongkang stood silently beside the old wooden table, like an old tree stump that had taken root. His dark blue work clothes were faded from washing, but were starched stiffly, and the top button was meticulously fastened, pressing against his slightly protruding Adam's apple.

He held a Moutai bottle in his rough, large hand, half of which was left over from the Mid-Autumn Festival.

After tidying up, the family walked out of the low doorway of the grotto.

"Dad, are you really not taking the car?" Yang Guanghui pushed out his old "Forever" bicycle, the handlebars and the back seat were covered with bulging net bags of vegetables, and the bicycle made a creaking sound as it was overburdened.

"Just a few steps, enough to stretch my muscles." Yang Yongkang's voice was not loud. He put his hands behind his back and stepped out of the door first. His slightly hunched figure quickly disappeared into the gray morning light at the corner of the alley, leaving only the sound of his heavy footsteps.

Today is the day Yang Guangming officially moves into Room 203, Building 3, of the Hongxing State-owned Cotton Mill residential area. Taking advantage of the next weekend before the National Day holiday, the new apartment is already fully furnished with pots, pans, rice, flour, and cooking oil.

Zhang Xiuying had planned it out countless times in her mind, and was certain that she lacked nothing. The whole family would have a housewarming dinner there, and even her eldest daughter Xianglan and her family of three would come.

Zhang Xiuying sat sideways on the back of her youngest son Yang Guangming's bicycle, gripping the edge of the seat with one hand and holding onto the net bag beside her legs with the other, and urged, "Let's go! Don't dawdle! Xianglan and the others must have arrived by now!"

Building No. 3 in the Hongxing State-owned Cotton Mill residential area is a gray, old-fashioned tenement building that gleams in the clear autumn sunlight.

At the entrance of the family compound, Yang Xianglan held her daughter Honghong in her arms, with her husband Wang Jianjun, who was as sturdy as a brick, standing beside her. Honghong had two pigtails sticking up to the sky, and her little head kept looking left and right like a rattle drum.

"Uncle! Uncle!" Honghong, with her sharp eyes, spotted Yang Guangming riding his bicycle from afar. She immediately twisted into a pretzel in her mother's arms, broke free, and stumbled towards the bicycle.

Yang Guangming quickly braced himself on one foot to steady the car, bent down and scooped up his little niece who was rushing towards him, rubbing her soft forehead with the stubble on his chin: "Honghong, sweetie, were you waiting impatiently?"

"Not yet, just arrived!" Yang Xianglan greeted her with a smile, her eyes and brows relaxed, showing the crispness and competence unique to a housewife.

She handed the bamboo basket in her hand forward, inside which lay ten round eggs, nestled peacefully in the soft straw.

"My mother-in-law insisted that I bring it, saying that we should eat a good meal when we move." There was a hint of smugness in her voice.

Zhang Xiuying and Li Guihua also stepped forward, their bicycles piled high like a small mountain. The family gathered together and walked noisily into the dark stairwell.

The cement stairs were worn shiny by countless feet, and the edges of the steps were somewhat damaged.

Each household had piles of honeycomb briquettes, pickling jars, or discarded old furniture in front of their doors, occupying the narrow public space.

The security guard across the hall, Zhou Dayong, was carrying a large, chipped white basin as he walked out. Upon seeing them, his booming voice immediately echoed through the hallway:

"Guangming! Today is the official housewarming day! Congratulations!" His dark face was beaming with smiles.

"Thank you, Brother Zhou!" Yang Guangming replied with a smile, raising his voice slightly.

The door to Chen Zhiqing's house next door, where the technician lived, was ajar. Hearing the noise, it creaked open a crack. His wife, Xiao Liu, poked her head out, holding their one-year-old son, and said with a gentle smile, "Guangming, it's good that you've moved in. Just call us if you need anything." Her voice was soft and sweet.

The door of the Sun family next door opened a crack, and Sun's thin face peeked out. Her eyes swept around like searchlights, and her shrill voice immediately rang out: "Oh my, Master Zhang, Guangming, you're so quick! You've already moved it in?" Her gaze lingered on the basket of eggs for a moment.

After accommodating the neighbors' chattering greetings, he finally arrived at the door of room 203. Yang Guangming took out his brand-new brass key, inserted it into the lock, and with a soft "click," the door opened.

The walls were snow-white, the cement floor was clean, and a mixture of lime water and wood smelled in the air.

The outer room, about seven or eight square meters, has an old eight-immortal table against the wall. The inner room, about eight or nine square meters, has a bare rosewood bed and a huanghuali wardrobe standing silently, exuding the quiet atmosphere unique to old furniture.

Zhang Xiuying and Li Guihua's eyes immediately and precisely landed on the pile of ingredients on the Eight Immortals Table.

"Mingming, where's the meat?" Zhang Xiuying was most concerned about this, her voice filled with urgency.

Yang Guangming didn't answer. He turned around, opened the door to the small compartment in the east room, and brought out a heavy enamel basin with a large red peony printed on it, which was tightly covered with a lid.

The lid was lifted, revealing a bowl full of chopped beef chunks. The chunks were small, square, each about an inch in size. Fine, snowflake-like marbling was evenly distributed throughout the deep red meat, resembling the veins of fine marble, piled high in the bowl.

"Oh my!" The three women gasped simultaneously.

Li Guihua's eyes widened as she leaned closer to examine it: "What... what kind of beef is this? It's covered in snowflakes, looks really high-class! I've never seen anything like it before!"

Yang Xianglan couldn't resist picking up a small piece. The texture of it was unusually delicate and smooth. "It looks delicious. It must smell amazing when it's stewed."

Zhang Xiuying picked up a piece of meat and held it up to the light from the window. The marbling was incredibly fine and even. She frowned slightly and asked in a low voice, "Guangming, where did this meat come from? I don't think I've ever seen such good beef in a grocery store." This quality was something that a state-run vegetable market could never have.

This pot of beef looks to weigh at least four or five pounds, a very generous portion. Not only can it be used to stew a large pot, but it also means you won't have to skimp on the meat when making beef and celery wontons; you can add plenty more.

This beef is top-grade Wagyu beef stored in the Sunshine Space. He doesn't usually find an excuse to take it out, mainly because he's worried about people noticing the difference in appearance, so he's kept it hidden until today when it was revealed for the first time. He even cut it into small pieces to mislead people.

"I got it from a friend." Yang Guangming said casually, "He said it's a rare variety from the south. It looks strange, but he patted his chest and guaranteed it would taste good. I figured there would be a lot of people today, so I stewed it until it was very soft and mushy. It should be good for making wontons or meat fillings."

Zhang Xiuying immediately understood the meaning behind her son's words, stopped asking questions, and only praised him, her doubts replaced by excitement:
"It looks like there are at least four or five pounds! Great! There's plenty of beef today! Stewed taro with beef, stuffed tofu, stir-fried water bamboo, blanched cauliflower, celery and beef wontons! And that big yellow croaker, braised gluten with four kinds of good fortune... Oh my, this is even more lavish than Chinese New Year!"

She immediately transformed into a commander, her voice booming: "Guihua, wash and peel the taro! Xianglan, wash and chop the celery! Guangming, clean that yellow croaker! Jianjun, you're strong, go to the water room and fetch a bucket of water!"

The cramped outer hall and the chopping board in the corridor instantly transformed into a bustling battlefield.

The water gurgled and splashed, and the cleaver clattered on the cutting board. The flames from the coal stove in the corridor licked the bottom of the pot, making a soft crackling sound.

Honghong squatted by the door, watching curiously as her uncle, Yang Guangming, squatted on the ground, deftly scraping the scales of the large yellow croaker with scissors. The silvery scales flew off like snowflakes, landing on the cement floor.

Yang Guangming cleaned the fish, rinsing away the blood, and then helped his sister-in-law, Li Guihua, prepare the bunch of celery. The bright green celery leaves were removed and set aside, while Li Guihua quickly chopped the thick celery stalks into fine, jade-like pieces and piled them on the cutting board.

Li Guihua had already scrubbed the mud off the taro, revealing its purplish-brown skin. She was deftly peeling off the outer skin with a small peeler, and the snow-white taro flesh rolled into the basin of clear water next to her.

Beside the octagonal table, Yang Xianglan was dealing with a bowl of beef that looked a bit "strange".

As requested by Yang Guangming, she set aside a portion of the meat and began chopping it into minced meat, preparing to mix it with chopped celery to make wonton filling.

As the knife fell, there was almost no resistance from the tendons; the minced meat was as delicate as matsutake mushrooms, quickly filling a large blue-rimmed bowl. Then, chopped celery, minced ginger, salt, and a few drops of fragrant sesame oil carefully poured from an oil bottle were added.

Zhang Xiuying was skillfully stuffing the chopped minced meat into the golden, puffed tofu puffs with her chopsticks, while keeping an eye on Xianglan's movements:

"This beef is amazing! It'll be so delicious in wontons! Xianglan, get the filling ready and start wrapping! Guangming, go get the steamer basket!"

Yang Guangming responded by bringing out two large sorghum stalk curtains from the inner room and wiping them clean with a damp cloth.

Yang Xianglan washed and dried her hands, and the three of them—mother-in-law, daughter-in-law, and mother-in-law—sat down around the small table.

Zhang Xiuying rolls out the dough with lightning speed, her wrists flying out thin, translucent wonton wrappers like snowflakes.

Li Guihua and Yang Xianglan were in charge of wrapping the wontons. Their fingers flew as they pinched, squeezed, and gathered the wontons, creating rows of plump, thin-skinned dumplings that resembled ingots, neatly arranged like soldiers awaiting inspection.

Yang Guangming wasn't idle either. He put the remaining large chunks of beef into a pot of cold water to blanch them, removing any unpleasant smell and skimming off the foam, before preparing to stew them.

Wang Jianjun returned with a full bucket of water, only to be sent by his mother-in-law to wash cauliflower and cut water chestnuts.

Yang Yongkang was already sitting at the chicken-wing wood desk by the window in the inner room, silently rolling his "trumpet-shaped" dry tobacco.

Amidst the swirling smoke of cheap tobacco, his murky gaze occasionally swept over the busy figures in the kitchen, finally settling on the two trays of plump, upright wontons arranged densely, and his lips twitched almost imperceptibly.

The sun climbed higher, nearing noon. Both covered trays were filled with snow-white wontons, like plump ingots lined up for inspection, exuding a mixed aroma of wheat and meat filling.

Looking at the abundant harvest, Zhang Xiuying clapped the flour off her hands with satisfaction: "Alright! Let's cook a pot and send it to the neighbors!"

The water in the steamer was already boiling, steaming hot.

Li Guihua deftly made wontons. The snow-white ingots jumped into the boiling water with a splash. After floating for a moment, they puffed up their round bellies, revealing the tender green and pink filling inside, and rolled around in the water.

Zhang Xiuying took several white porcelain bowls printed with the double happiness symbol, carefully sprinkled a little dried shrimp and a few strands of seaweed on the bottom of each bowl, and added a few drops of soy sauce and two drops of precious sesame oil.

Once the wontons are cooked, they are ladled into a bowl along with the broth. Bright green celery bits are scattered among the white wontons, which are steaming hot and fragrant, making them look incredibly appetizing.

"Guangming, go deliver it." Zhang Xiuying handed the first bowl to her son, the bowl was hot to the touch. "Deliver it to Zhou Dayong's house across the street first, and remember to bring the bowl back."

With the hot bowl in his hands, Yang Guangming carefully knocked on the door across the street.

Zhou Dayong's wife, Xiao Yang, opened the door and saw a bowl full of exquisite, translucent wontons with generous fillings. She exclaimed in surprise, "Oh my!" and her eyes lit up: "Guangming, you're too kind! I can't accept this!"

"This is homemade celery and beef filling. Try it." Yang Guangming smiled and handed it over. "It's a small token of my appreciation for your housewarming. Thank you, Brother Zhou and Sister-in-law, for your usual care."

"Oh my, celery and beef filling! That's so precious these days!" Xiao Yang was both surprised and delighted, and hurriedly took it. The rich aroma filled his nose. "Then I won't be polite! Thank you, Guangming! Congratulations on your housewarming!"

The second bowl was delivered to Chen Zhiqing's house next door. Technician Chen Zhiqing pushed up his glasses, looked at the plump and tempting wontons in the bowl, and rubbed his hands somewhat awkwardly: "This... is too much trouble, Comrade Guangming. I feel unworthy of it."

His wife, Xiao Liu, holding their child, thanked him gently, saying, "It smells wonderful, thank you Guangming! May the move go smoothly, and may everything go peacefully from now on!"

The third bowl was from the Sun family next door to the east.

Aunt Sun opened the door and saw the bowl of oily wontons, the filling so puffed up they looked like they were about to burst. Her eyes lit up instantly, but she habitually declined, her voice high-pitched and shrill:
"Oh, Guangming, why are you being so polite? We're neighbors, we see each other all the time..."

He quickly took it from her, his eyes scanning the bowl like probes. "Celery and beef filling? The old lady really knows how to use ingredients! Tsk tsk."

"It's my pleasure. Brother Sun helped carry the furniture last time too." Yang Guangming said politely, then turned to deliver the furniture to the neighbors downstairs who had helped him last time.

Within ten minutes, all the bowls of wontons had been delivered. Yang Guangming had just returned home and put down the last empty bowl when he heard a noise at the door.

Xiao Yang from across the street came back carrying a rough porcelain bowl with four bluish-gray salted duck eggs covered in salt: "Guangming, these are homemade salted eggs. It's just a small token of my appreciation, to add to your meal! Wishing you a prosperous new home!"

"Thank you, sister-in-law!" Yang Guangming smiled as he accepted the salted egg, which felt quite heavy.

Immediately after, Xiao Liu from next door arrived, carrying a small dish of golden, shiny, and fragrant fried peanuts: "Zhiqing said they're best with drinks. This is just a small token of my appreciation, Guangming, please don't mind." The technician's family was particular; even the small dish holding the peanuts was polished to a shine.

Finally, it was Aunt Sun from next door. She brought over a rough earthenware dish with two small, dripping white radishes lying alone inside, clearly just rinsed under the tap, with water droplets still clinging to their skins.

She smiled broadly, her voice still high-pitched: "Guangming, these radishes are so tender and juicy! They're delicious in soups and stir-fries! Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Aunt Sun." Yang Guangming took the plate of radishes with a calm expression, feeling the cool, hard texture of the radishes on his fingertips.

The other neighbors also sent their return gifts one after another. Some gave a bunch of scallions, while others gave a few pieces of fermented bean curd. They were all small gifts that were appropriate for the occasion. They were piled up in a corner of the dresser, exuding a strong sense of human warmth and silently telling the story of how much each family had.

After dealing with the neighbors who came to visit, I closed the door, and it was already noon. The rich aroma of meat from the small kerosene stove in the east room had already taken over every inch of the air, wafting out from the cracks in the door and windows.

Soon, the eight-immortal table was filled to the brim, and the tabletop was almost invisible.

In the very center is a heavy aluminum pot, inside which taro and beef stew is bubbling gently.

The dark brown broth is thick and glossy, the taro chunks soaked in the meat juices are tender and soft, and the small pieces of top-grade Wagyu beef are stewed until they almost melt. The rich fat and starch of the taro blend together, exuding an irresistible and mellow aroma.

Next to it was a large plate of braised yellow croaker, the thick sauce clinging to the fish, glistening with oil. The fish skin was fried to a slightly charred golden brown, the flesh was snow-white and firm, and the fish eyes were bulging and staring, exuding a fresh and vibrant flavor.

A plate of dark brown, glossy braised gluten with four kinds of vegetables, the gluten soaked up the savory and sweet broth, plump and thick, with daylily, black fungus, peanuts and bamboo shoots embedded inside.

A bowl of golden, plump stuffed tofu, the tofu soaked in the delicious broth of the meat filling, puffed up and tempting, topped with a few sprigs of bright green scallions.

Two vegetarian dishes: stir-fried water bamboo shoots, the ivory-white strands glistening with oil and clearly separated; and blanched cauliflower, the snow-white florets drizzled with a few drops of sparkling sesame oil, making them even more refreshing.

At the very edge, there was a huge bowl of steaming white rice, piled high, its aroma mingling with the scent of vegetables, making one's stomach rumble.

In the small bowls in front of Zhuangzhuang and Honghong were specially selected boneless fish and stewed taro and beef until tender, mixed with fragrant white rice.

Yang Yongkang unscrewed the cap of the Moutai bottle and carefully poured the remaining half-bottle of liquor into several small, washed-white wine cups.

The clear liquor rippled, its rich and mellow aroma mingling with the fragrance of the dishes on the table, filling the small room and creating a warm and intoxicating atmosphere.

Under the dim light, the lavish dishes on the table, which they would never have dared to dream of on ordinary days, exuded a dizzying aroma and illuminated the faces of the family members sitting together.

Yang Guangming took out two bottles of "Shanghai Shaoxing Wine" with red labels from the cupboard and said with a smile to the women, "Mother, eldest sister, sister-in-law, we're happy today, so you should drink some Shaoxing wine to warm yourselves up."

Zhang Xiuying smiled and nodded: "Alright, alright, I'll make an exception today and have a little!"

Yang Xianglan quickly waved her hand, and two blushes suddenly appeared on her face, brighter than the lamplight.

She glanced at her husband, Wang Jianjun, then looked around at her family, her voice filled with barely suppressed joy and a hint of shyness:
"Little brother, mother, father, elder brother and sister-in-law... I, I don't need to drink anymore. There's something I need to do..."

She paused, met her family's questioning gaze, and said in a clear and happy voice, "I just went to the hospital for a check-up a few days ago, and they said I'm pregnant, more than three months along."

The room fell silent for a moment.

"Oh my! Xianglan!" Zhang Xiuying was the first to react, exclaiming in surprise, her eyes instantly shining brightly. "Really? More than three months? Great! That's wonderful!" She was so excited she almost stood up.

Li Guihua put down her chopsticks in delight: "Xianglan! Congratulations! This is wonderful news!"

Wang Jianjun stood to the side, a huge, somewhat silly smile spreading across his sturdy face. He rubbed his hands together and could only nod.

Yang Yongkang paused, holding the wine cup. His cloudy eyes looked at his eldest daughter, a rare and clear warmth flashing within them. He nodded slightly without speaking, but the slight upturn of his lips said it all.

Yang Guangming smiled, genuinely happy: "Big sister! Congratulations! Double happiness!"

"Good! Good! That's wonderful!" Zhang Xiuying was the first to respond, her eyes slightly reddening. She raised her small wine cup high, her voice trembling slightly with excitement, "Old man, say a few words!"

Yang Yongkang picked up his small wine cup, his cloudy gaze slowly sweeping over his family members sitting around him—his wife's radiant face, his eldest son's family's satisfied smiles, his eldest daughter's relaxed eyebrows and face that couldn't hide her joy, his youngest son's steady and bright eyes, and his two innocent but happy grandchildren.

Finally, his gaze lingered for a moment on his eldest daughter's still flat stomach.

On his face, etched with the wrinkles of time, the usual seriousness melted away like ice meeting the sun.

His deep voice, carrying a gentle strength, rang out clearly: "Guangming has a home now. Good."

He paused, his gaze falling on Yang Guangming's face, and added a few words that carried immense weight: "From now on, you must be more grounded."

Then, he turned to Yang Xianglan, his voice seeming a little gentler: "All is well."

"Cheers! May Guangming's new home prosper! May Xianglan have a new addition to the family!" Yang Guanghui raised his glass with a hearty smile, his voice booming.

"Cheers! Little brother, may your life get better and better! Xianglan, take good care of yourself, and this time your wishes will surely come true!" Li Guihua also quickly raised her glass.

"Cheers! Congratulations to Guangming!" Yang Xianglan smiled and raised her glass of plain water.

Wang Jianjun also raised his glass hesitantly, addressing Yang Guangming and his wife: "Guangming, congratulations! Xianglan..." The rest of his words were stuck in his throat, leaving only a chuckle.

Several wine cups of varying sizes, along with small enamel bowls of cooled boiled water held by Zhuangzhuang and Honghong, gently touched together under the warm light and in the steaming aroma of the food, carrying the family's joy, expectations for their new life, and blessings for the newborn.

The crisp sound of porcelain jingling and the soft laughter blended together to create the most beautiful melody at that moment.

Chopsticks fell one after another, each person eagerly reaching for their favorite dish.

Taro stewed with beef became the undisputed focus.

The moment those small chunks of top-grade Wagyu beef entered my mouth, they melted on my tongue with almost no chewing. The rich aroma of the meat, along with the succulent fat, exploded instantly, blending with the unique sweet and glutinous texture of taro, creating a delicious flavor that I had never experienced before and that satisfied the very depths of my soul.

The beef is not tough at all; it is incredibly tender and mellow, lingering in your mouth.

"Mmm...this meat!" Li Guihua's eyes widened after just one bite, her cheeks puffed out, and it took her a while to swallow, letting out a long breath. "It...it really doesn't taste like beef! It's like...like the softest tofu, but ten times more fragrant! And all that oil..."

"Delicious! So delicious!" Yang Guanghui shoveled rice into his mouth, his chopsticks constantly reaching into the beef pot, his cheeks bulging, and he mumbled his praises.

Wang Jianjun forgot his usual reserve and ate several pieces in a row. His dark face was full of surprise and enjoyment: "Guangming, your friend has really wide connections! This meat... is amazing! I've never eaten such tender and fragrant beef before!"

Yang Xianglan savored the meat, enjoying the delightful sensation of its delicate, velvety texture melting in her mouth. She then picked up a small piece of taro, soaked in the broth, its soft, powdery texture carrying a subtle sweetness from the meat.
"Little brother, the stew is cooked just right. The meat is tender, and the taro is even more tender. Mom, your cooking skills paired with this meat are a perfect match!"

Zhang Xiuying took a bite, her face beaming with joy, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes smoothed out: "This meat is great! It's juicy and lean, with very little tendon, and it's delicious no matter how you stew it! Guangming, ask your friend again later if you can get some more. It's worth the price!" She was already planning her next visit.

Large yellow croaker, braised gluten with four kinds of good fortune, stuffed tofu, stir-fried water bamboo shoots, blanched cauliflower... every dish received heartfelt praise.

The large yellow croaker that Yang Ming brought back was exceptionally fresh and plump. The fish meat was shaped like garlic cloves, and it was so tender that it easily separated from the bone with a gentle touch of chopsticks.

The meat filling inside the stuffed fried tofu is firm and chewy, soaking up the savory broth, and bursting with juice with every bite.

The four-delight braised gluten is perfectly balanced between sweet and savory, with a satisfyingly chewy texture, and the accompanying ingredients add to its rich flavor. The stir-fried vegetables are crisp and refreshing, effectively cutting through the greasiness of the meat dishes.

I downed about half of the Moutai liquor and poured a few cups of Shaoxing wine as well.

A rare blush appeared on Yang Yongkang's wrinkled face. He still didn't talk much, but he picked up food more often. His cloudy eyes showed satisfaction, and he occasionally picked up a small wine cup and took a sip.

Zhuangzhuang and Honghong ate until their little mouths were greasy. Honghong even grabbed her little spoon and tried her best to scoop up the soft taro in the bowl, eating with a big smile on her face.

Yang Guangming looked at his parents' relaxed smiles, his brother and sister-in-law's easy expressions, and his eldest sister's family's contented and hopeful demeanor. He listened to the two children's babbling and felt the occasional noise from outside the window that belonged to the entire tenement building.

A heavy, solid sense of happiness called "home" slowly filled his chest like warm tide.

This meal took a long time to finish.

As the dishes were emptied, the conversation shifted from decorating the new house and funny stories from the factory to the mischievous antics of Honghong and Zhuangzhuang, and then naturally centered on the good news of Yang Xianglan's passing.

Yang Guanghui told jokes about what happened in the workshop, making everyone laugh.

When Yang Xianglan talked about Honghong's recent interesting experiences at her husband's family, her words were less repressed than before, and more composed as a housewife and gentle as she was about to become a mother again.

Zhang Xiuying glanced at the sky outside the window, then at the old-fashioned horseshoe-shaped watch; the hour hand was pointing to two o'clock.

She sighed, a mixture of satisfaction and reluctance, and stood up: "Alright, alright, as much as we're happy, there's still a ton of stuff waiting for us at home. Let's tidy up here too."

She began efficiently directing the cleanup. Li Guihua and Yang Xianglan quickly cleared away the dishes, wiped the table, and washed the food. Wang Jianjun helped put the stools back in their places. Yang Guangming then gathered the leftovers and put them in the cupboard.

Zhang Xiuying walked up to Yang Guangming and straightened his shirt collar—actually, the collar was quite neat.

Her gaze swept over her son's young and composed face, from his brand-new white shirt to his crisp blue trousers, as if she wanted to etch every detail into her heart.

"Mingming," she lowered her voice, carrying a mother's characteristic nagging and barely perceptible worry, "when you live alone, be careful with the doors and windows. Make sure the bolt is firmly in place when you go to bed at night. When you've finished using the coal stove, remember to cover the fire completely; don't be careless."

"I understand, Mom," Yang Guangming replied gently.

"Don't skimp on meals. The factory canteen food isn't good, so cook for yourself. Conserve your refined white rice and flour; every little bit counts. As for the vegetables..."

She paused, glanced at the cupboard, and lowered her voice even further, "Buy whatever's available at the market, don't be stingy. As for meat... don't cook it too often, it's too conspicuous. If you do eat it occasionally, remember to cook it in the small cubicle, don't show it off in the hallway. Understand?"

"Yes, I know what I'm doing." Yang Guangming nodded, his eyes steady.

"Put the money and tickets away properly and lock them in the drawer..." Zhang Xiuying wanted to give more instructions, but Yang Yongkang, who was standing at the door, interrupted her.

"I'm leaving." Yang Yongkang stood by the door with his hands behind his back, uttering only two words before glancing around the room.

Zhang Xiuying then stopped talking, patted her son's arm hard, as if to brush away all her worries: "Alright, we're leaving now. Come home for dinner when you have time!"

The family filed out.

The hallway suddenly dimmed, and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the empty concrete stairwell. Sunlight escorted them to the top of the stairs.

"Goodbye, Uncle!" Honghong nestled on her father Wang Jianjun's broad shoulder, waving her little hand and calling out in her sweet, childish voice.

"Su Su... Su Su..." Zhuangzhuang waved his hand and called out in a babbling voice, just like his older sister.

"Go back, Mingming." Yang Xianglan smiled and waved her hand, one hand unconsciously protecting her lower abdomen.

"Brother, call me if you need anything," Wang Jianjun said in a low voice, his tone sincere.

Yang Guangming stood at the corner of the stairs on the second floor, holding onto the cold iron railing, watching his family members move down the stairs one floor at a time.

The father's slightly hunched but upright back, the mother's chattering with her sister, the figure of the elder brother and sister-in-law, the little heads of the two children... In the end, they all disappeared into the bright, dazzling sunlight at the entrance of the building.

The hallway fell completely silent, with only the faint sounds of radios, children playing, and the lingering aroma of food wafting from someone's pot.

He turned and pushed open the door to room 203. The walls were snow-white, the old furniture heavy and silent, the windows bright and clean. The atmosphere of his own space, mingled with the lingering aroma of food from the recent meal, a faint scent of alcohol, and a hint of the unique smell of a new house, wafted towards him.

He gently closed the door behind him, shutting out the noise from outside.

The warm afternoon sun shone through the clean glass windows, casting long streaks of light across the gleaming cement floor.

At this moment, my new 26-square-meter home is finally settled!
P.S.: Two more chapters will be updated later.

(End of this chapter)