Meng Yan's Transformation

Chapter 648 Waiting for Dad to Come Home and Have Dinner Together

"Mengyan, are you hungry? Let's eat."

As Yunqing spoke, she brought out a bowl and chopsticks.

"Mom, I'm not hungry. Let's eat together when Dad comes back from his house call. Where's my brother Zixun? Didn't he come back first? How did his college entrance exam go? When is my sister Yingying coming back from her job?"

As Zhan Mengyan spoke, her gaze swept across the room.

"If you're not hungry, eat some tomatoes and cucumbers first; they were all grown by your dad. Your brother Zixun came home first; I haven't had a chance to ask him yet. He put down his schoolbag and went to Zhang Xincheng's house. I guess he should be back soon. Your sister Yingying wrote; she just said she's fine and told us not to worry. Zixun said your first-year class has been on summer vacation for a while now. Why are you only coming back now? Where have you been these past few days? Your hands are all injured. It doesn't look like a bump."

As Yunqing spoke, she lifted Zhan Mengyan's hand—her once-rounded nails were now short and flat, with fine, irregular roughness at the edges. Some areas of skin appeared dry, even with occasional, barely noticeable tiny cracks. Most striking were the fine marks: the accumulated skin lines between her thumb and forefinger, the result of repeated opening and closing of can lids, or the forceful holding of tools, causing continuous pressure and friction on the skin. The skin retained a color that was difficult to completely wash away—perhaps the pale yellow of peach juice, perhaps the slight red of pine needles—seeping into the outermost layer of skin, like silent tentacles. The back of her hand wasn't so rough, but it was covered with a few inconspicuous light-colored marks, tiny memories of occasional steam splattering or minor burns. These hands moved with practiced efficiency; they could accurately weigh the fruit and quickly discard the unsuitable parts. The equipment can stably handle heavy loads, minimizing errors in the packaging process; it can also maintain an instinctive rhythm after long periods of repetitive action. However, when they are still, the form shaped by the heavy labor is fully revealed—it does not belong to any exquisite or beautiful description, but is the silent proof left by physical strength and time on the body.

Yunqing scrutinized Zhan Mengyan's hands: "Mengyan, tell the truth, you...you went to work somewhere again? Didn't I tell you? Come home early during holidays. It's not safe for a high school student to work outside. Look at these hands, they don't look like the hands of a student holding a pen at all!"

"Mom, my hand will be fine in a few days. My sister is also working outside, right? Her hand must be more badly injured than mine. I only did a part-time job at the cannery during the summer vacation. I wanted to work a few more days, but the cannery doesn't need me anymore, there aren't that many jobs left. If Dad hadn't come to rescue me today, the money I earned from the part-time job wouldn't have been enough to pay the stall owner. I've caused trouble for the family... Mom, here's the thirty-six yuan the stall owner returned. Take it. I know Dad is usually very stingy and won't give you a single penny."

As Zhan Mengyan spoke, she took out some money from her pocket and stuffed it into Yunqing's hand.

"Mom, don't take the money you worked so hard to earn. Keep it for yourself. Oh dear, your sister has been gone for months. I wonder how the food and accommodation are at her workplace, and whether she's tired. I also wonder when the cannery will close for the holidays so she can come home and visit..."

As Yunqing spoke, she stuffed the thirty-six yuan back into Zhan Mengyan's hand. "Your sister said when she left..." Yunqing's voice suddenly softened, as if afraid of disturbing the air.