章節 1: A Picture of Happiness
**Chapter One: A Picture of Happiness**
In the depth of his dreams, Yang Feng found himself standing outside his home, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. He clutched his briefcase tightly, the weariness of the day weighing down his shoulders, as he slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open.
"You're back!" His wife, Fan Ying, appeared almost instantly, her face lighting up as she hurried over. Without a word, she took the briefcase from his hand, placing it gently on the small table by the door.
Fan Ying was a vision of simplicity and grace, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. She wore a light dusting of makeup, just enough to highlight her naturally radiant skin. Her outfit was casual but tidy—a white top paired with loose, beige pants, cinched at the waist by a checkered apron. In one hand, she held a stainless steel spatula, the smell of cooking still lingering in the air around her.
"You must be tired," she said softly, her lips curving into a warm smile as she leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead.
The sight of her instantly lifted the fatigue from Yang Feng's face. His smile, filled with love and gratitude, mirrored the contentment he felt. "You're the one who works so hard," he replied, his voice tender. "You go to work and still make time to cook for us." He pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her slender waist, savoring the familiar scent of her, a mix of her natural fragrance and a hint of the day's cooking.
"Stop it, you're making me blush," Fan Ying giggled, playfully pushing him away, though her laughter was genuine and infectious. Yang Feng's rough stubble brushed against her cheek, making her squirm with ticklish delight.
"Let's have a kiss first," he teased, holding her a little tighter, unwilling to let go.
Just then, the faint smell of something burning wafted through the air, creeping into their moment.
"What's that smell?" Fan Ying's delicate nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air. Her eyes widened in sudden realization. "Oh no, the food!" She quickly wriggled out of Yang Feng's embrace and dashed toward the kitchen.
"Be careful not to burn yourself," Yang Feng called after her, chuckling as he loosened his tie. He tossed his jacket onto the sofa and slipped into a pair of comfortable slippers, making his way to the kitchen door where he leaned casually against the frame, watching her.
"Look what you made me do! I almost burnt the food," Fan Ying scolded, though her tone was more exasperated than angry. She didn't even turn around as she skillfully maneuvered the spatula, flipping the green beans in the pan with practiced ease. The rhythmic motion of her hand sent the beans tumbling gracefully, releasing their fresh aroma into the air, overpowering the faint scent of the near-disaster.
As he watched her, busy yet beautiful in the kitchen, a wave of deep contentment washed over Yang Feng. Their journey together—through the highs and lows, the sweet and the bitter—had led them to this moment. Fan Ying was more than just his wife; she was his source of happiness, the motivation that kept him going, the compass that guided his life.
And then, there was their son.
"Where's our little one?" Yang Feng asked, his heart swelling with another surge of joy at the thought of their five-year-old boy. Little Wen, with his chubby cheeks and innocent smile, was the center of their world. Coming home to play with his son—whether it was a game of Go, hide-and-seek, or riding pretend horses—was the highlight of Yang Feng's day. He loved nothing more than to scoop up Wen, rubbing his rough cheek against the boy's smooth face, making him giggle uncontrollably. He often lay on the sofa, letting Wen climb all over him, occasionally tickling the boy until he burst into peals of laughter.
"Daddy!" The small voice came from the hallway as Little Wen toddled out of his room, his arms outstretched like a penguin's wings as he waddled over to Yang Feng.
"There's my boy!" Yang Feng's smile widened as he bent down, scooping Wen up into his arms. He lifted him high, spinning in circles in the living room, both of them laughing with pure joy.
"Alright, enough of that! It's time for dinner," Fan Ying called out, untying her apron and motioning them to the table. She turned back to the kitchen to fetch the plates and utensils.
The dining table was already set with four dishes, each one exuding a mouthwatering aroma. There was a balanced mix of meats and vegetables, a little something for everyone.
"Dinner time!" Yang Feng carried Wen to the table, grinning as he pointed out the dishes. "Look what Mommy made for us tonight." He quickly grabbed a green bean, popping it into his mouth.
"Daddy, I want some too!" Wen demanded, reaching out with his pudgy little hand, eager to grab at the food. Yang Feng, with a mischievous glance toward the kitchen, sneakily handed a bean to Wen, who nibbled on it with a satisfied grin.
Fan Ying, carrying the last of the dishes from the kitchen, caught them in the act. "You two are such gluttons! Can't even wait until we all sit down?" she chided, though her voice was filled with amusement.
"Mommy was talking about you, Daddy," Wen declared with a serious look, all while chewing his bean.
"No, she was talking about you, little man," Yang Feng retorted, trying to keep a straight face.
"Ha ha ha…"
Their shared laughter filled the small dining room, blending together in a symphony of joy—the deep, hearty sound of a father's laugh, the melodic, light laughter of a mother, and the pure, innocent giggles of a child. It was the music of happiness, echoing through their home, a sound that lingered long after the laughter had faded.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票