Love in a Shanghai Summer

6: Eat Bitter（吃苦)

Phrase of the day: Chī dé kǔ zhōng kǔ fāng wéirén shàng rén (吃得苦中苦 方为人上人)

Literal translation: Eat bitter, so you can rise to the top.

Definition: To "eat bitter" means to endure sufferings and hardships. What this says is you need to endure today, so you can succeed in life. The closest saying in English is "No pain, no gain."

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"Son, you're here!" Li Rui pulled the wooden inner door of their apartment wider, then opened a second door made of metal. "Aiyo, what's that box you're carrying? That looks heavy."

"A friend from Guangdong sent me some lychees." 

Stepping inside, Zi'an set the box on the floor, then took off his shoes. 

"You should have kept it for yourself and shared it with your housemates. Why did you carry such a heavy thing all the way here?" His mother bent down and tried to lift the box. "Aiyo, so heavy!"

"I already gave my housemates some. We can't possibly finish this whole box by ourselves." He gave his mother a smile. "Where's father?" 

"Old Li, what are you doing?" Li Rui called. "Your son is here."

Zi'an put on the slippers his mother set aside for him, then brought the box to the kitchen. When he went back to the living room, a tall, burly man emerged from the master's bedroom. Despite the lines on his forehead and around his eyes, his youthful good looks were still evident.

"My son is finally here," he boomed. "Have you eaten? Your mother and I made all your favorite food."

"Pa! Of course, I haven't eaten yet. I knew there was going to be a feast at home."

His father laughed and patted his back. "Go wash. Lunch will be ready soon."

On the way to the bathroom, Zi'an heard his mother mention the box of lychees again. Zi'an shook his head and smiled. Even though his mother acted like he shouldn't have done it, he knew the gift made her happy. He whistled while washing his hands. For good measure, he also washed his face. After patting it dry, he padded back towards the dining area. There, he found every inch of the table's surface covered with plates and bowls bearing different Northeastern Chinese dishes. Zian's mouth watered as delectable aromas competed for his attention.

"Lamb chops, my favorite," he said, taking a seat.

His mother sat next to him and started spooning some soup into his bowl. "Here, have some of this."

Zi'an lifted the bowl and gulped down the medicinal broth. While he did so, his mother piled on a bit of every dish into his plate.

"Eat some more, son. You look like you lost some weight. My poor child."

Zi'an was happy to do as she asked. His parents were excellent cooks.

"The dumplings are ready."

Zi'an's father walked out of the kitchen carrying a plate loaded with freshly boiled dumplings on one hand and a small saucer filled with vinegar on the other. Zi'an got up to help him. Meanwhile, his father took the seat across.

"How was the soup?" he asked Zi'an.

"It's great," Zi'an replied, emptying his bowl.

"Our neighbor recently came back from Yunnan and gave me some ginseng. Drink some more. It will give you energy."

Zi'an filled his parent's bowl, then helped himself to another serving. For a while, they all enjoyed their food in silence.

"Do you remember your cousin Yuan Yuan?" his mother asked.