Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

Zhang Dafa hasn't been home for over a month.

It wasn't a business trip, nor was it a trip to the countryside.

The Hongxing Machinery Factory is only this big; it takes about the time it takes to smoke a cigarette to walk from the staff quarters to the factory office building.

But ever since the couple had a huge fight over Wang Guowei's inclusion in the first batch of candidates, Zhang Dafa seemed determined. He worked as the deputy factory director during the day and made do with sleeping on the old wooden sofa in his office at night.

At first, Sun Guifen tried to hold on.

Whenever someone asks, she just shrugs and says, "Go back if you want, do you think I need his food?"

More than a month has passed, and the stove in the house is still smoking, but there is still an empty seat on the table.

No matter how tough she was on the outside, she was slowly starting to feel bad inside.

Today is different, especially. Today is Zhang Dafa's birthday.

By evening, when Sun Guifen brought the last plate of braised pork to the table, it was already completely dark.

There were four dishes on the table: a plate of braised pork, a plate of scrambled eggs, a bowl of cabbage and vermicelli, and a dish of fried peanuts.

Next to her was half a pound of steamed egg cake, which she had gritted her teeth and queued up at the supply and marketing cooperative to buy that afternoon.

The oil paper was wrapped neatly and squarely, with no wrinkles at the edges.

Sun Guifen arranged the chopsticks and wiped the table again.

After wiping, she stood by the table for a long time, then suddenly seemed to feel ashamed of her expectant look and muttered under her breath, "Come back if you want, don't come back if you don't."

After she finished scolding him, she sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) and waited.

This wait lasted for almost half an hour.

The oil on the surface of the braised pork slowly solidified into a layer of white lard, and the scrambled eggs shriveled up.

Sun Guifen stared at the dishes, her face growing increasingly grim. Finally, she abruptly stood up and carried each dish back to the pot to reheat it.

The fire in the stove started burning again.

After the food was heated up, she put it back on the table.

But there was still no movement outside the door.

She sat down for a short while, then stood up again, lifted the pot lid, and took a look.

"I'm afraid the food will spoil."

She muttered something stiffly to the empty room.

No one responded to her.

The only sound inside the house was the crackling of the firewood burning in the stove.

When the dishes cooled down a second time, Sun Guifen finally couldn't sit still any longer.

She walked to the phone, reached out her hand, and then abruptly pulled it back.

"Fine, don't come back then." She turned and took two steps.

But when I got to the table and saw the half-pound chicken cake neatly placed there, I stopped in my tracks.

That was something Zhang Dafa used to love to eat.

When Zhang Dafa was young, his family was poor. If he could eat a piece of chicken cake on his birthday, he was considered to be living a very decent life.

Sun Guifen stared at the bag of chicken cakes, and the anger she had been putting on finally began to subside a little.

She gritted her teeth and walked back to the phone.

Before making the call, she gave herself an excuse: "I've made such a big meal, I can't finish it all by myself, it would be such a waste if it went bad."

If she says it like that, then she isn't bowing her head.

The phone rang for a while before being answered.

"Feed".

Zhang Dafa's voice came through the phone, hoarse and tired, accompanied by the muffled roar of the workshop machines.

Sun Guifen gripped the microphone, cleared her throat, and said in her habitually harsh tone, "Don't you know what day it is today?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

After a moment, Zhang Dafa simply replied with three words: "The factory is busy."

Sun Guifen gripped the microphone tightly with her fingers.

She glanced back at the braised pork on the table, which had been reheated twice, and gritted her teeth to suppress her anger: "Even if you're busy, you still have to eat, right? I've reheated the braised pork twice, and I even queued up to buy your favorite steamed egg custard."

To get the man to back down, she forced out a conciliatory sentence: "I've already scolded Guowei about what happened. From now on, you're in charge in this house, okay? Come back and eat!"

This was the most humble head Sun Guifen had ever lowered in most of her life.

She was certain that after saying all that, Zhang Dafa should have calmed down, no matter how angry he was.

But all that could be heard on the other end of the phone was the rustling sound of papers being turned over.

After a long while, Zhang Dafa's hoarse voice finally rang out again.

"You eat it yourself."

"I don't have time tonight."

Sun Guifen was stunned, a surge of anger rising to her head: "Zhang Dafa! You've grown temperamental, haven't you? I've already paved the way for you, what more do you want?"

"Sun Guifen".

On the other end of the phone, Zhang Dafa suddenly called her by her full name in an extremely calm manner.

It wasn't the gnashing of teeth after being provoked by her before, nor the suppressed sneer when the couple argued.

This sound is very flat.

It was so calm, as if all its fire had been extinguished.

Sun Guifen felt a sudden emptiness in her heart.

Zhang Dafa remained silent for a long time on the other end of the phone before saying in a low voice, "I'm not being stubborn with you, nor am I waiting for you to back down."

"I just feel that there's no point in going back to that home."

Sun Guifen's fingers tightened suddenly as she gripped the microphone.

"Zhang Dafa... what do you mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything."

The background hum of machinery remained muffled, while Zhang Dafa's voice came through the long telephone line.

"It's Guifen, I'm really a bit tired."

Sun Guifen opened her mouth, but couldn't immediately utter a curse.

Because Zhang Dafa's calling out "Guifen" was too peaceful.

It was as if he had swallowed all the anger, grievances, and arguments he had accumulated over the past few decades, leaving only a bit of weary ashes.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Zhang Dafa seemed to want to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Finally, he said in a low voice, "You can eat by yourself."

"Don't let the sponge cake go bad."

"From now on... take good care of yourself."

After saying that, a soft "click" sound came from the other end of the phone.

The phone hangs up.

Sun Guifen held the microphone and stood motionless.

After a long while, she slowly put the microphone back.

The braised pork on the table was still steaming.

The half-pound sponge cake was still neatly placed on the corner of the table.

Sun Guifen stared at the bag of chicken cakes for a long time, and then tears suddenly fell without warning.

One drop, two drops, landed on the back of her clenched hand.