His words were tender, his face expressive, and he never talked that much that deep. As the length of his time remaining decreased, while the range of his scope increased, the angles of his personality were even sharper and more fi erce. Since when had he become sour and spicy? I began to wonder.
When the delicious noodles were fi nished, the sun set. Then father said to me like he had said to himself a million times, “Go home and carry on teaching, then fi nd a teacher or a civil servant as your future husband, who is good enough not to bully you and who is honest enough not to cheat on you or betray you.”Without a stop but with an irritable glare, he softened his tone but hardened his voice. “Listen to me, home is the best for you. You are too weak to live in a city like this, full of danger.”