Back of Hand

Chapter 7

Chapter 7 Parents-in-law and rich people are indeed simple.

    On the day he met Peng Lang's parents, Ji Changshan wore a light blue shirt. If it wasn't stated in the information about his mother that Ms. Shi Jianqing loves bright colors, Ji Changshan would continue to stick to black and white or dark blue.

    In fact, it hasn't been long since the last time he hit his favorite like this. Two weeks ago, a client who was fond of modern poetry asked Ji Changshan to chat about literati works. There is a famous poem by Zhang Zao, the client drank and pondered: "As long as you think of the things you regret in your life, the plum blossoms will fall all over Nanshan." But the still heart muttered to herself: "After all, I'm too idle, I still have time to think about plum blossoms."

    Her temper has been smoothed out by social life. Ten or eight years ago, she hated doing what she liked the most.

    Peng Lang picked up Ji Changshan at Xiwatai. She combed her high ponytail, with the tips of her hair brushing her neck lightly. Black and white complement each other, making each other more distinct. He asked Ji Changshan to sit in the co-pilot, and when he stepped on the accelerator and looked at the road ahead, he said: "Miss Ji looks very good today."

    His compliments always came suddenly.

    Ji Changshan squinted at Peng Lang's face for a moment, thanked him back, and lowered his eyes to review the materials of the three members of the Peng family.

    Peng's parents live in a suburban villa area, and it takes an hour from Xiwatai without traffic jams. The weekend coincided with everyone going back to their hometown for a trip. The road was full of water, stopped and stopped, and arrived at the destination at seven o'clock in the evening.

    Ji Changshan participated in the study class in the morning, practiced women's self-defense for a long time, and was so tired that he fell asleep halfway. The car drove into the basement, turned off the engine, and all the noise and bumps disappeared without a trace. Ji Changshan has a shallow sleep, and once the environment changes, even if he turns from noisy to quiet, he will suddenly wake up.

    With half-opened eyes, he realized that he was covered with a man's coat.

    "Are you awake?"

    Ji Changshan sat up straight and nodded. She returned the coat and thanked her, Peng Lang asked her to put on the coat, men's and women's wear, so that she could show intimacy in front of outsiders.

    The basement is much cooler than the outside, Ji Changshan tightened his coat, and followed Peng Lang to the trunk to get a gift for his parents. There are two things in total, twenty-year-old Banzhang Pu'er tea for his father, and a Ming Dynasty Longquan kiln green-glazed straight-neck vase for his mother. Ji Changshan didn't spend any money, but Peng Lang put a gift-giver's hat on her head. His parents may not know that the gift is paid for by the son himself, but the moment he received the gift, he still showed a high-society smile and added a sentence of Miss Ji's trouble.

    The four wore their own masks and sat in the dining room.

    The decoration of Peng's villa is a combination of Chinese and Western styles. The walls, floors and furniture are all made of wood. If you ignore the price tag of Hainan huanghuali, the whole house has a relic of returning to the garden.

    In the 1960s, Grandpa Peng Lang went to the countryside as an educated youth to plant coffee in Ercheng, southwest China, to supply the needs of the Soviet Union. He married a local woman and gave birth to Peng Lang's father, named Peng Suren. Later, Peng Suren became successful in his career and publicly emphasized that he was the son of a farmer many times. He claimed that the tender years of his childhood and the land were unforgettable. To commemorate the loving father and mother, and the second is to commemorate the time that is gone and never returns.     Peng Furen clasped his fingers and solemnly placed them on the table. He introduced to his new daughter-in-law that today's vegetarian dishes are all from the family farm. Ji Changshan followed the words Peng Lang taught her and praised Peng Furen's simplicity and filial piety in a low-key manner.     Her titular father-in-law may be a little happy, and his face with Chinese characters is wider when he smiles.     Auntie Peng brought a basket of diagonally cut baguettes, served with butter and olive oil. Peng Lang's mother, Ms. Shi Jianqing, asked the guests to start first. Peng Lang took the bread on behalf of Ji Changshan, carefully spread the butter and handed it to her, "Mom doesn't treat you as an outsider, but it's the first time you come here, she thinks it's new." .”     It is naturally very considerate to say this to a newlywed wife. Ji Changshan curled the corner of his mouth cooperatively, took a bite of the bread, and saw Shi Jianqing smiling kindly at her while chewing silently.

    Shi Jianqing comes from a family of famous painting dealers. His great-grandfather has been collecting and reselling Impressionist oil paintings in Paris. She was born in the upper class, grew up in the upper class, and is used to seeing women and men who are as good as the dragon and the phoenix. Shi Jianqing despised someone like Ji Changshan who married into a wealthy family just because of his looks. It's just that her upbringing ordered her to hide the darkest part of human nature, and she must not blatantly throw her face away.

    Ji Changshan didn't know that Shi Jianqing classified her as a sparrow flying up a branch, and quietly finished eating a baguette, and their aunt brought four more dishes of cold appetizers.

    There was a pinch of chicory salad on the plate, and Ji Changshan tasted it a couple of times, but it was nothing special. Later, the hot starter was fried foie gras. After the third bite, I was so tired that I wanted to drink some wine. Shi Jianqing asked Miss Ji if she was satisfied with des entrées, Ji Changshan guessed that the word referred to dishes, and said it was delicious.

    When Peng Furen mentioned the chicory he grew at home, Ji Changshan listened to his simple labor stories, and occasionally turned his eyes to the blue-flowered white-bottomed porcelain plate in front of him.

    Some time ago, the deputy general manager of the distant China Region held a birthday party and invited Chen Yueshu. He planned to buy a set of French tableware from the 19th century as a congratulatory gift. After reading the auction house information for a few days, he even shared it with Ji Changshan. Among the various plates, Ji Changshan has seen the set on the dining table in front of him, which are antique Pompadour plates.

    The rich are indeed simple, and even the tableware is second-hand from two hundred years ago.

    Ji Changshan began to wonder whether the apartment of her nominal husband seemed plain, like a father like a son, the old saying had some truth to it.

    Peng Lang cut the plate of Chinese food slowly, and occasionally talked with his parents. They were a family of three, and no one mentioned Peng Lang's sudden marriage. Ji Changshan's eyes moved seamlessly between the three members of the Peng family. They remained silent most of the time, sharing a table like strangers eating, but for a while when they communicated, the eyes they looked at each other showed familiarity amidst warmth.

    Happy and harmonious is the only word Ji Changshan can think of.

    She ate the last bite of foie gras, and somehow wanted to ask Peng Lang: "When you were young, did your parents often hug you?"

    This thought was fleeting.

    The aunt of Peng's family served soup and main course one after another. Ms. Shi Jianqing smiled without showing her teeth, and whispered to the guests that the main course tonight is l'escargot.

    Ji Changshan stared at her titular mother-in-law, who was sitting in a good posture, smiling as if she had received professional training, and every time she was at the right angle. Such a Parisian socialite may lack Chinese education. Ji Changshan smiled back with an almost curved smile, and when the silver plate was served, he finally saw six snails lying on it, arranging the plate like flowers.

    Ji Changshan had never eaten this stuff before, and he couldn't use the small pliers and the double-pronged fork to remove the shell at all.

    She was not afraid of shame, and just when she was about to ask Peng Lang for advice, the other party skillfully peeled two lumps of fresh meat and put them on her plate.

    Ji Changshan almost blurted out: "Thank you, but Mr. Peng just teach me, I can do it myself." His voice rolled to the tip of his tongue, and he suddenly remembered his parents sitting opposite him, so he pretended to be at ease, and forked a lump of truffle snails into the mouth.

    Peng Lang didn't say much, and continued to use the pliers and forks in a smooth manner. He shelled all his snails, and finally exchanged plates with Ji Changshan, "I'm used to serving you, I'm afraid my parents will make fun of me." He spoke

    affectionately Naturally, with a smile in their eyes, no matter who saw it, they would think that the two of them had a long-term relationship, and their love still persists.

    Ji Changshan had seen the ability of rich people to act on every occasion, so she had to accompany him to finish the scene of a lover with a twitch.