The Fourth Period Is Modern Chinese (Continued)

I made no sound, leaving that murmur in my faintly aching chest. I took a deep breath to hide the urge to sniffle, and the rich, sweet aftertaste of peach pie filled my lungs.

An ordinary night. The living room where we spent every day. The fabric sofa where the whole family sat side by side.

It would be such a waste to cry during such an utterly ordinary daily moment, so I stared at the ceiling glowing softly beneath indirect lighting. I would save my tears for a much later day, when my daughter walked down the aisle.

I slowly let out a sentimental sigh so no one else would notice. A slight weight rested against my side. I did not need to turn my head; the warmth against my arm told me my wife had leaned against me.

"You don't need to rush. Take it slow. When you make sweets while thinking of the person you want to eat them, the person you want to make happy, it will naturally become a flavor that belongs to you. Slowly making your ideal creation like this is part of the joy of baking, you know."

My wife spoke calmly to our daughter. It was not her usual gentle, doting tone. She sounded serious, as though she were passing on an important secret spell.

"Mm, but that's the hard part..."

☆★Yui★☆ smiled bitterly and touched her bun. Her soft smile held not only adorable feelings like happiness, shyness, and embarrassment, but also a heartbreaking sadness and frustration.

My wife must have noticed her gloom as well. She sighed softly, smiled gently, and returned to her usual fluffy tone.

"Well~ Daddy doesn't like sweet things, but he likes our apple pie, right~?"

"Ah, yeah. Now that you mention it, I guess he