It was strange, though—another wave of warmth rose upward.
It reached the corner of the boy's eye.
He felt the corner of his eye grow hot.
The boy silently took a deep breath.
He lowered his head even further.
He squeezed his eyes shut and blinked several times.
"Plop~"
Ripples spread across the fish soup.
The boy's heart skipped a beat.
He lifted the bowl.
Using it to shield himself, he hid the fact that he was crying.
"Xuanxuan, slow down."
The woman sounded worried.
"I picked out the fish bones, but that doesn't mean there can't still be any in the soup."
"Be careful not to get one stuck in your throat."
"Mm."
The boy nodded, but he didn't put the bowl down.
The woman shook her head helplessly.
"You like it that much? Should I make it for you again tomorrow?"
She'd make it for him again tomorrow?
The corners of the boy's mouth lifted.
"Mm."
"Really?"
The woman was surprised. "Won't you get tired of eating it two days in a row?"
"No."
The boy shook his head.
He would never get tired of the crucian carp tofu soup his mom made.
"You..."
The woman smiled.
"You said it."
"Then I'll make crucian carp tofu soup again tomorrow."
"That saves me the trouble of deciding what to cook..."
That back-and-forth conversation...
When was the last time he'd talked like this with Mom?
The boy couldn't remember.
He only knew he was so happy.
So very happy.
He slowly set the bowl down.
His tears had stopped.
That night stayed with the boy forever.
Whenever he thought of it, his eyes would grow hot and his nose would sting.
But he also felt so warm and happy.