Cooking: What Did He Give You?

Once the New Year was over, time seemed to move even faster. A new semester brought a fresh start. The pains of the past had faded to faint traces with the passage of time. Jiang Xu found that thinking about Wang Cai no longer made her feel sad—only the sight of the gray-white urn gave her heart a sharp pang.

It had only been two years, but her memories of Wang Cai were already blurring. It wasn't that she'd forgotten what Wang Cai looked like; it was that she didn't know how to imagine what Wang Cai would look like if she were still alive.

Sometimes Jiang Xu felt she was utterly alone in this world, and other times she remembered that Liang Xiaoqing was still by her side.

The number of students in her class had grown over the past two years, especially girls, and much of that was thanks to Liang Xiaoqing. Since Jiang Xu had started living with her, no one had disturbed her studies. Liang Xiaoqing had turned her attention to persuading children who'd dropped out to come back to school.

Jiang Xu felt neglected. As their time together stretched longer, she seemed to care more and more about Liang Xiaoqing's attention. She did her utmost to get good grades so that Liang Xiaoqing would write each of her scores in her work notebook, the final column invariably decorated with a smiley face sketch. Sometimes Jiang Xu would sneak a look; after seeing it, she'd feel deeply satisfied, and the next time she'd strive even harder for good results.

Growing from ignorance to who she was now, Liang Xiaoqing had played an indispensable role.

Before she knew it, she was in her third year of junior high. A desk had been set up by the window in the living room—Liang Xiaoqing had arranged it the year before, saying the desk in the bedroom was too small and couldn't hold all her books.

The early spring sun was warm and cozy, making one want to doze off. Books were neatly stacked on the desk—proper textbooks, each one well-preserved. In the center lay a math test paper with tidy answers, and resting on top of them was a slender, fair arm. Sunlight flickered over the arm, shifting as its owner wrote. After writing the last digit, the pen paused briefly. The arm's owner set down the pen, lowered her head slightly, and pressed her fingertip against a small spot of light on the paper.

Her fingers were long and tapered, the arched nails catching healthy white lunulas. The light danced across them, making her fingers seem to glow. The spot of light hopped around, and the girl's finger followed its path, pressing down wherever it went—until her fingertip touched a gray-white urn. She stopped, then gently stroked the urn.

The girl's pink lips pressed together slightly.

"Sister Yang, I'm here to mooch some chicken soup!"

The sunlight stretched a long line across the room to the door, which was open, so the conversation outside was perfectly clear.

"Look at you, such a small ambition! Anyone would think you've raised a daughter!"

"Hahaha... Just treat Jiang Xu as my daughter then. Wouldn't it be my good fortune to have such a big daughter?"

The Jiang Xu sitting by the desk listened, frowning slightly.

A woman appeared in the doorway, shuffling in slippers. She'd slept in on Sunday, only getting up at noon, her hair a mess, unkempt and casual. She wore a thin white fitted sweater—since the weather had warmed up—that traced the lines of her waist, paired with slightly thick corduroy casual pants. One pant leg was rolled up, revealing a sliver of pale ankle.

The chicken soup was freshly simmered, steaming hot, with glistening drops of oil floating on the surface along with some goji berries.

"Hey, you're dreaming big!" Yang Man said disdainfully, handing the soup to Liang Xiaoqing.

"Hahaha..." Liang Xiaoqing laughed as she took the soup. She hadn't eaten anything all morning after sleeping in, and her stomach was empty. The aroma was nearly intoxicating. Holding the bowl, she couldn't resist taking a small sip from the rim first.

"Hey!" Yang Man patted her shoulder. "Look at you—isn't this soup supposed to be for Jiang Xu? She's in a critical period now, studying so hard every day. You need to nourish her! If she does well on the entrance exam, she can go to the county for high school!"

"...Xiao Xu won't mind," Liang Xiaoqing said nonchalantly. The bottom of the bowl was hot, so she held it with her left hand, using her right to cover her ear, and blew on it twice. The soup in the bowl rippled.

Yang Man grew anxious: "Slow down, careful you don't burn yourself!"

Liang Xiaoqing waved a hand: "I won't."

Yang Man added, "Honestly, you're such a grown woman and you don't pay any attention to your appearance." She looked Liang Xiaoqing up and down, shaking her head. "There's a kid in the house, after all. No matter what, you should get up early and cook meals for her and all that..."

"..." Liang Xiaoqing brought the soup closer, the aroma intensifying, making her scrunch up her face. "Xiao Xu can cook, you know. On every holiday, she's the one doing the cooking! She's very sensible." With that, she took another sip, smacking her lips in approval. "Oh, Sister Yang, yours is always the most fragrant. No matter how I make it, I can't get the same flavor as yours..."

After all this time, Yang Man still felt it was improper for Liang Xiaoqing to keep Jiang Xu at home: "Look at you—she's already won you over!" Realizing she'd spoken too loudly, she lowered her voice: "Xiaoqing, you're basically supporting an extra person now! If you hadn't been so stubborn back then... She has no family left now; her food, clothing, everything depends on you. Not that I'm saying this to be mean, but we teachers don't have much money. Spend it here, spend it there—how much can you save? Aren't you worried about your own matters? That Zhang Qing came by again a few days ago to give you something, didn't he?"

Liang Xiaoqing said nothing.

Yang Man continued: "Zhang Qing isn't much to look at, sure, but he treats you well. He handles himself properly and has a gentle temperament. I think he's quite suitable. You two work at the same school, so you'd see each other often. The most important thing for you now is to think about settling down!"

As she talked, the smile faded from Liang Xiaoqing's face, but Yang Man didn't notice anything amiss, happily making plans for her.

"You're not getting any younger, you know," Yang Man said, looking at her. "This is the prime of your life—a good age."

Liang Xiaoqing forced a dry laugh, pointing at the soup: "Sister Yang, this soup of yours is really something."

Yang Man raised an eyebrow, looking smug: "Of course. Not just anyone can cook like me... Now take it to Jiang Xu quickly. It won't taste good once it's cold."

"I'll head in now, Sister Yang."

"Mm."

Although Yang Man still quietly disapproved of Liang Xiaoqing's choice back then, after two years of acquaintance, she'd come to accept Jiang Xu's presence in Liang Xiaoqing's home, and she also felt sympathy for the girl who'd lost her mother so young. It was lucky that Liang Xiaoqing had persisted, allowing Jiang Xu to keep studying.

Everyone had their own perspective. Her sympathy was only momentary; she didn't like meddling in other people's lives, as it would only bring unnecessary trouble. The older she got, the more she seemed to stay silent. But Liang Xiaoqing still retained her pure, innocent kindness.

She remembered when Jiang Xu first arrived at Liang Xiaoqing's place—malnourished and timid, shrinking into herself. Now, thanks to Liang Xiaoqing's care, she'd grown fair and clean, taller too, almost as tall as Liang Xiaoqing now.

As a neighbor and also Jiang Xu's homeroom teacher, Yang Man felt a bit of relief that her student was developing in a good direction.

She watched Liang Xiaoqing carry the soup into the house and called out, "I'll close the door for you."

"Ah! Thanks, Sister Yang!"

The old wooden door creaked shut. Jiang Xu silently withdrew her hand from the gray-white urn, stood up, and turned to take the soup from Liang Xiaoqing's hands.

"Sister Xiaoqing." Her voice was more mature than two years ago, but it was still the voice of a young girl.

Liang Xiaoqing seemed to have grown used to Jiang Xu's changes. She'd spent so much time with Jiang Xu that she couldn't notice such subtle shifts anymore.

"Mm," she hummed, careful with the soup. "Come on, stop writing for now, Xiao Xu."

She waved her hand to signal Jiang Xu not to take the bowl, and set the soup on the coffee table herself. Jiang Xu was very obedient. On holidays, she'd cook for Liang Xiaoqing, and the food tasted great. Her grades had been getting better and better too—she didn't cause Liang Xiaoqing any worry at all. Turning to look at Jiang Xu's increasingly striking face, she suddenly realized Jiang Xu was about as tall as she was now—maybe even a bit taller.

A pause. Liang Xiaoqing realized that Jiang Xu had grown up, grown taller. She sighed inwardly—time was merciless. By the time she noticed the changes in Jiang Xu, those changes had already come and gone.

"Teacher Yang simmered this soup all morning. You should drink it. You use your brain too much; a bit of chicken soup will do you good." She pulled Jiang Xu over to sit on the sofa.

Picking up the bowl, she handed it to Jiang Xu. Whatever Liang Xiaoqing said, Jiang Xu did. She was as docile as a gentle cat. She nodded and took the bowl.

The rich chicken soup looked appetizing and smelled wonderfully fresh. Liang Xiaoqing watched her with eager eyes. Jiang Xu thought about what she'd overheard just now, and unconsciously pressed her lips together.

"Sister Xiaoqing, why don't you drink it instead?"

Liang Xiaoqing felt awkward: "It's specially made for you. You drink it. Let me go check if the rice is ready..."

Liang Xiaoqing seriously suspected Jiang Xu had overheard what she'd said earlier. She'd just said it offhandedly—she wasn't at all sure whether Jiang Xu would mind her or not. And she thought Jiang Xu must like the soup, which was why she'd specially asked Yang Man for it. Whenever Yang Man made chicken soup, she'd go ask for a bowl, and Jiang Xu always drank it all.

As for why she didn't make chicken soup for Jiang Xu herself—it was because hers never came out as fragrant as Yang Man's. It was either too salty or too bland.

She reminded Jiang Xu to drink it, then headed toward the kitchen.

Jiang Xu hummed in acknowledgment, watching her retreating figure. The curve of her waist was traced by the sweater, forming a taut arc. After a few steps, Liang Xiaoqing finally noticed one of her pant legs was rolled up, so she steadied herself against the wall, lifted her leg sideways, and smoothed the pant leg down.

The bend made the curve of her waist even more pronounced, and a strip of fair skin was revealed. Jiang Xu's gaze lingered there for a few seconds.

She took a sip of the soup.

She didn't really like chicken soup. In the past, to avoid disappointing Liang Xiaoqing's kindness, she'd secretly poured it out.

This time, she finished it all.

Liang Xiaoqing's question had been unnecessary—Jiang Xu had everything perfectly handled. When Liang Xiaoqing entered the kitchen, the rice was already cooked and kept warm in the rice cooker. She opened it to find a dish being kept warm inside, and the wok used for stir-frying was clean, with a vegetable dish warming in it. The kitchen had already been tidied up nicely.

Looking at the neatly arranged utensils, Liang Xiaoqing unconsciously touched her neck, unsure where to even start. She suddenly felt a bit ashamed. She'd really been too lazy, making Jiang Xu cook lunch for the two of them again. Actually, Jiang Xu had done this many times already—Liang Xiaoqing should have been immune to it by now, but seeing it again still made her uncomfortable.

Every time she told Jiang Xu she didn't need to cook, Jiang Xu would usually nod silently, and the next time she'd do it anyway, without fail.

Liang Xiaoqing hated her habit of sleeping in. If she hadn't slept in, Jiang Xu wouldn't have gotten up early. And also... Jiang Xu was too polite to her... Or maybe "sensible" was the word.

It made her heart ache.

"Are we eating, Sister Xiaoqing?" A voice suddenly came from behind. Liang Xiaoqing started, turning around to see Jiang Xu.

Jiang Xu was holding the empty bowl: "I finished it."

"..."

Jiang Xu walked past her to the sink to wash the bowl: "Or should we wait a bit?"

The implication was asking whether she wanted to sleep longer.

"No... let's eat." Liang Xiaoqing waved her hand, crouching beside Jiang Xu to open the cupboard and take out bowls. "If I sleep any longer, the sun will set." She muttered to herself, wondering if Jiang Xu thought she was unreliable. As a "guardian," Liang Xiaoqing was certainly not satisfied with herself at this point.

This feeling drove Liang Xiaoqing to improve quickly, to become someone with more sense of responsibility. Only then would she have enough wings to shield Jiang Xu.

"Xiao Xu, from now on, if I sleep in, you must wake me up." She took out the bowls and set them on top of the cupboard, standing side by side with Jiang Xu, who was making do with the bowl she'd drunk the soup from. It had already been washed once; she handed it to Liang Xiaoqing, signaling for her to pass over the unwashed bowls in front of her. Liang Xiaoqing handed them over.

As she washed, she said, "It's fine, Sister Xiaoqing. I can cook. You're busy with work usually, so on Sundays, you sleep as much as you can. I can handle all the chores at home—don't worry about it. I'm already so grateful that you're willing to take me in and support my schooling."

"...Xiao Xu..."

Jiang Xu knew everything in her heart. She flicked the water off the dishes, turning to look at Liang Xiaoqing: "You've helped me so much. I need to do something in return. These are all within my ability. Sister Xiaoqing, didn't you say..."

"We're family..."

Bang!

Her heart inexplicably skipped a beat. By the time Jiang Xu realized what she'd just said, it was too late to take back. So she scrambled to grab the chopsticks, falling silent.

Family. Family. People who live together are called family.

It was hard to maintain a family relationship without blood ties, in Jiang Xu's view. But she felt that she and Liang Xiaoqing shared a different kind of relationship—one that rivaled the closeness of flesh and blood...

There was a faint path in the depths of Jiang Xu's heart, shrouded in mist two years ago but now gradually growing clear. Her heart was like something sprouting, slowly unfolding into a bud.

"Family..." Liang Xiaoqing murmured to herself.

For a moment, Liang Xiaoqing felt she should shoulder even more responsibility. She looked at Jiang Xu with emotion, clearly not understanding what Jiang Xu was really thinking.

"Right." Liang Xiaoqing seemed to make a solemn resolution. "Xiao Xu, no matter what path you take in life, if you ever run into trouble, you can always rely on me..."

When emotion takes the upper hand, feelings run rich. People often cling to a promise spoken aloud, while overlooking how everything in this world is always changing. But at the moment it was said, it was truly sincere—and that alone meant it wasn't a wasted promise.

Jiang Xu, two years older, was more mature now. She didn't know how far "forever" reached; she only knew that Sister Xiaoqing was by her side right now, and she knew that what Sister Xiaoqing thought wasn't the same as what she did. She vaguely noticed something wasn't right with herself, and she had to suppress it desperately.

"Mm, mm."

Jiang Xu hummed obediently. Setting aside everything else, just hearing those words from Liang Xiaoqing made her happy. A sense of being cherished, not abandoned.

Jiang Xu helped Liang Xiaoqing with the cooking, handing her bowls as she scooped rice. Cooking rice for two to just the right consistency took some skill, but thankfully Jiang Xu had cooked almost every day back then and had picked up Wang Cai's cooking knack, so she was good at both rice and dishes.

Two bowls of rice and two plates of vegetables were set on the table. Liang Xiaoqing couldn't wait to pick up her chopsticks: "Mm, delicious!" The oilseed lettuce bought yesterday had been stir-fried crisp and glossy, the color bright. Liang Xiaoqing took a bite, pairing it with rice. The vegetables were cooked perfectly, and the rice was distinct, each grain plump with its characteristic sweetness.

Truth be told, Liang Xiaoqing was famished. Once she got started, her appetite opened up. She praised Jiang Xu's cooking nonstop while shoveling food into her mouth—she looked like a little squirrel...

Jiang Xu wasn't very hungry; the bowl of chicken soup had filled her stomach.

"If you like it, Sister Xiaoqing, eat as much as you want," she said softly, her voice still carrying the youthful tenderness of her age. "I'll cook for you again next weekend." During school days, she had no time to cook, and Liang Xiaoqing wouldn't allow it—normally she ate at school, or Liang Xiaoqing cooked for her personally.

She thought Liang Xiaoqing's cooking wasn't as good as hers, but just the fact that Liang Xiaoqing had cooked for her meant she demanded of herself to finish every bite.

Under the guise of not wasting food.

In truth, no one had ever cooked just for her like Liang Xiaoqing did.

At her core, Jiang Xu was profoundly insecure.

The rice in her bowl was eaten one grain at a time. Jiang Xu observed Liang Xiaoqing with a glance that wasn't particularly conspicuous. She watched Liang Xiaoqing eat while she slowly ate too. When Liang Xiaoqing's gaze met hers, she'd shrink back, staring at her own bowl.

Then peck at her rice like a chick.

"Hahaha..." Liang Xiaoqing laughed. She asked, "What's wrong?"

Jiang Xu brushed it off: "Not very hungry."

Liang Xiaoqing nodded, then after a moment said, "Next time, I'll make you chicken soup."

Liang Xiaoqing thought Jiang Xu liked chicken soup: "After so many attempts, I've finally figured out the complete process. Next time it'll definitely taste good. What do you say?"

Back when Jiang Xu was in the second semester of eighth grade, Liang Xiaoqing had been obsessed with making chicken soup for her. Jiang Xu thought Yang Man's soup was better, and Liang Xiaoqing was always going to mooch some off her. Since Jiang Xu had come to live with her, she was always afraid Jiang Xu would fall behind in her studies, especially since she'd missed so many classes. Liang Xiaoqing always thought Jiang Xu needed supplementary nutrition—both academically and physically, since she'd looked so undernourished.

Later, whenever she went to get chicken soup from Yang Man, it was always for Jiang Xu. But doing that all the time was embarrassing, so Liang Xiaoqing resolved to make chicken soup herself, specially asking Yang Man for advice and then trying her hand at it several times. Every attempt turned the kitchen into a battlefield, carefully prepared, yet never meeting her standards. No alternative—she'd go back to asking Yang Man. Yang Man said a bit of soup was no big deal, and besides, Jiang Xu was her student too. She said generously: "Come anytime, Xiaoqing. Don't stand on ceremony with me!"

So Liang Xiaoqing shamelessly kept going.

But what she didn't know was that Jiang Xu didn't like chicken soup. Back then, the family would only have meat maybe once every half month, and Jiang Daguo could eat it, but she and Wang Cai couldn't. Jiang Daguo would grumble and scold them to save food, and more importantly, the good stuff was reserved for Jiang Lun.

Jiang Xu had once been allowed to drink chicken soup because of Jiang Lun. She'd been little then. Whenever Wang Cai cooked chicken, duck, fish, or meat, she knew it meant either Jiang Lun was coming home or the New Year was near. Wang Cai's cooking was impeccable—even Jiang Daguo couldn't find fault with it. The chicken and broth were scooped out clean, leaving only some liquid behind. Jiang Daguo instructed Wang Cai to save the soup in the pot for Jiang Lun.

But as it turned out, Jiang Lun didn't drink it. Jiang Daguo was so happy to see his son that he ate his fill and then came to the kitchen, saying to Wang Cai: "My son still thinks of you two. You're not his real mother, but he treats you like one. He told me to give you the soup..."

As if receiving a blessing from an ancient emperor, Wang Cai excitedly ladled out a bowl of the chicken soup and handed it to her. The small bowl, chipped countless times, looked like a beggar's bowl. The chicken soup inside had already gone cold, lacking the freshness of just-simmered broth, a layer of oily film floating on top. That was Jiang Xu's first taste of chicken soup.

Wang Cai's eyes were wide as she looked at her: "Drink it quickly!" Hoping she'd down it.

Jiang Xu's stomach was growling with hunger, so she gulped down the whole bowl.

But she hadn't expected that bowl of soup to make her feel sick for days.

Stomach ache that turned her face whiter than paper.

From then on, Jiang Xu didn't care much for greasy food.

"Xiao Xu, what do you think?" Liang Xiaoqing asked again, unsure whether Jiang Xu was spacing out or what.

Jiang Xu snapped back to reality, looking at Liang Xiaoqing—slightly disheveled, in a way that made one feel relaxed. She didn't know how to refuse Liang Xiaoqing's kindness, or rather, she didn't want to refuse anything Liang Xiaoqing said at all.

"Okay." She picked up a few grains of rice and brought them to her lips.

"Then next week, I'll get up early to buy a fresh chicken."

"..."

Liang Xiaoqing finished eating faster than Jiang Xu. Before Jiang Xu was done, she'd already taken her bowl and chopsticks to the kitchen to wash: "Hurry up, or I'll be done washing by the time you're finished."

It wasn't a jab at Jiang Xu to rush her—it was just that eating cold food wasn't good for the stomach. And she'd noticed a bad habit of Jiang Xu's.

—She liked to zone out while eating.

That wasn't a good habit.

The kitchen and living room were connected, and the house wasn't soundproof; everything could be heard clearly.

Sometimes Yang Man's husband, Wei Xingwen, would come over, and when the couple had a spat, you could hear them arguing.

It embarrassed Liang Xiaoqing, worrying that Jiang Xu might overhear something she shouldn't.

"Got it."

Jiang Xu's voice came through the thin wall. The moment Liang Xiaoqing heard it, Jiang Xu had already brought the bowl and chopsticks over.

"Here, give them to me." Liang Xiaoqing quickly washed a bowl, her sweater sleeves rolled up to her elbows, fingertips dripping water as she took Jiang Xu's bowl to wash.

The water rushed. Jiang Xu was still standing there.

Liang Xiaoqing asked, "What's wrong?"

"..."

After a moment of silence, Jiang Xu said, "Sister Xiaoqing, what did that Wang Qing give you?"