Chapter 52: He’s My Hero
“This is my father.”
The girl’s clear voice was unhurried. It wasn’t loud, but amid the noise of the food expo grounds, it carried through the air with startling clarity.
Father Mu froze in confusion. Looking up at his daughter’s profile, for a brief moment he nearly forgot how to breathe.
The trash bin was heavy, its weight dragging at Mu Xiangxiang’s arm, her body, and even her heart. She gazed steadily at the group of young people gathered around the dining tables in the distance. Every face wore the same stunned expression. Gao Yan, who had already noticed Father Mu’s unusual gait before Mu Xiangxiang spoke, had completely forgotten about the lamb skewers she was distributing. Both hands remained suspended awkwardly in midair, bamboo skewers still clutched between her fingers.
For nearly half a minute, no one spoke. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The world fell silent, leaving only the distant crowd and noise beyond the circle of light surrounding them.
Then, after those thirty seconds—
Gao Yan blinked blankly. The exquisitely dressed girl slowly stood up, placed the lamb skewer back onto the tray, and, under Father Mu’s panicked gaze, said awkwardly, “...Hello, Uncle.”
As she greeted him, she even dipped her head slightly in a gesture halfway between a nod and a bow.
Mu Xiangxiang’s left hand rested on her father’s shoulder. In that instant, she felt the force beneath her palm—the force with which he had been trying to pull away and escape—suddenly vanish.
Gao Yan’s action broke the frozen atmosphere. The other students, still stunned by Xiangxiang’s unexpected introduction, finally snapped back to reality. They hurriedly copied Gao Yan, springing to their feet and speaking over one another:
“U-Uncle!”
“Hello, Uncle!”
“Hello, Uncle! We’re all Xiangxiang’s classmates!”
Their raised voices overflowed with youthful energy. Surrounded by the chorus of greetings, Father Mu stood helplessly, his mind completely blank. Looking at the children who greeted him as naturally as if they were addressing their own elders, he felt as though his legs had been filled with lead.
His hands trembled violently. He opened his mouth, but it took a long while before he found his voice again.
Then, remembering something, he hurriedly forced a smile onto his pale face. The smile looked as though it might collapse into tears at any moment. “H-Hey! Hey! Hello! Hello! Hello, everyone!”
His response came out flustered and incoherent. Beneath her hand, Mu Xiangxiang could feel her father shaking. She lowered her eyes and stopped paying attention to her classmates’ reactions. She felt exhausted, as though she had just fought a brutal battle. Yet at the same time, she was filled with strength. Even the heavy trash bin that had seemed to drag her heart downward now felt weightless.
She released her father’s shoulder and looked down at the fine lines on her palm, damp with sweat. A faint, unreadable smile tugged at her lips.
Meanwhile, Father Mu was wiping his hands nervously against his apron, still overwhelmed by the students’ unexpected greetings, when he suddenly heard his daughter’s voice—rougher than usual. “Dad, where’s Mom?”
He didn’t immediately understand. After a pause, he finally remembered why he had come out in the first place. “Oh. Your mom and I set up a stall here. She’s still back there chopping goose. There are just too many customers today. I was supposed to throw out the trash and hurry back so she could take a break.”
Mu Xiangxiang glanced at the countless splashes of braising sauce staining his apron—evidence of hours of nonstop work. She said nothing. Instead, right in front of all her classmates, she calmly carried the foul-smelling trash bin to the expo’s collection point and dumped its contents inside.
Then she returned with the empty bin and set it at her father’s feet. “Take off the apron.”
Father Mu stared. “What for? I still need to go back and switch shifts with your mom.”
Ignoring him, Mu Xiangxiang reached up and untied the straps at the back of his neck. Half by force, she stripped the apron from him and pulled it over herself.
It was a long-sleeved work apron. It looked oversized on Father Mu and no better on Mu Xiangxiang, hanging loosely from her slender frame. Rolling up the sleeves, she walked to the sink beside the tables and began washing her hands. While scrubbing them, she calmly explained to the classmates staring at her: “I need to go help my parents. I probably won’t be able to keep hanging out with you this afternoon.”
“Help your parents?” A few students echoed her words, not immediately understanding. “Your parents are...?”
“Oh, they usually run a breakfast stall near Youth Plaza. Since the expo started, they’ve probably been selling braised foods here.” Her gaze shifted from her soap-covered hands to the crowd. Her expression was as calm as her voice, and she even wore a faint apologetic smile. “Sorry for backing out at the last minute.”
The slender girl stood there in an oversized work apron, sleeves rolled up to reveal slim, fair arms. Her normally cool and distant face carried the hint of a smile. The ease and familiarity with which she had emptied the trash bin. Every gesture, every movement, radiated a charm that made it impossible to look away.
The students of Class One suddenly began exchanging strange looks.
Then, one after another, they all turned toward her.
And every face broke into a mischievous smile.
******
The Mu family’s stall, tucked away in one of the most remote corners of the expo grounds, soon became lively once again. This time, however, it wasn’t because of customers.
When Mother Mu was squeezed away from the chopping board, she was completely bewildered. Her husband, who had somehow taken forever to throw out a single bag of trash, had returned not only with their daughter, but also with an entire crowd of students in Yingcheng uniforms.
And then all her work was stolen.
Mother Mu stood beside her husband, staring blankly at the stall. Her position had already been taken over by her daughter, while the remaining tasks had been divided among the other students amid laughter and chatter. Chopping goose. Serving goose. Collecting money. Bagging orders. Defoie grasing plates to the dining area. The mountain of chaotic work that usually left her and her husband exhausted and unable to rest somehow wasn’t enough for these twenty-odd teenagers. They ended up settling the final assignments with games of rock-paper-scissors.
The impact of so many handsome boys and beautiful girls appearing together was impossible to ignore. The once-crowded, disorderly stall became instantly organized. At the same time, their collective appearance drew attention from all around. Amid the surrounding stares and exclamations, Mother Mu found herself gazing blankly at her daughter, who had taken up the cleaver she herself had been using moments ago. “What’s going on?” she asked her husband.
Father Mu couldn’t answer. He simply stared at all those bright, smiling faces.
Mu Xiangxiang stood behind the chopping board, gripping the cleaver. Her eyes rested on the small pool of braised goose juices left behind by the previous bird, gathered in a shallow depression on the cutting surface. The handle still carried traces of her mother’s warmth and sweat. At the same time, familiar voices continued ringing around her.
She looked up. It was one of the girls who had spent the bus ride discussing expensive cosmetics. The girl had won the coveted cashier position and was enthusiastically rummaging through wrinkled, greasy banknotes with hands that clearly had never handled such things before. Turning around, she grinned as though she were participating in the world’s most entertaining game. “Xiangxiang! One half-goose, packed to go!”
Mu Xiangxiang’s gaze softened. From that girl, her eyes traveled across the entire group—classmates carrying trays, holding bags, weaving through the crowd of customers. At first, these pampered young people had looked awkward and clumsy. But now, the tall boy responsible for bagging orders was almost faster than her mother.
These people… Really...
Mu Xiangxiang paused. Then she lowered her head and laughed. A genuine laugh.
The kind that showed her teeth. The kind that made a sound.
*****
At the same time, on City A’s local Weibo.
The Asian Food Expo had already attracted considerable attention. That morning, the front page had been filled with official promotional posts. Soon afterward came the usual tourist updates—photos of food, drinks, and the massive crowds. Everything had been fairly ordinary. Until the afternoon, when a new wave of posts suddenly exploded across local social media.
City A’s Wu Yanzu: [Photos][Photos][Photos] The braised goose stall on the east side of Zone F!!! Is anyone else here right now?!
A Family Should Be Neat and Tidy: Currently wandering around the expo looking for food. Found a braised goose stall with the most absurdly overpowered lineup imaginable. It’s all the way at the end of Zone F. The staff is basically a squad of rich, gorgeous girls and handsome guys. I kneel.
The comment with the highest number of replies was a nine-photo collage. When opened, every image was a close-up shot of the Mu family's braised goose stall. The comments underneath had practically collapsed into collective worship:
“Damn, they're actually kind of gorgeous. The guy doing the bagging is the best-looking one—so tall! Total rich-and-handsome vibe!”
“No way, the short-haired girl with the cleaver is the prettiest! She's a girl, right? Judging from the side profile she definitely is. The way she handles that knife is insanely attractive!”
“Wait a second... if I'm not mistaken, the emblem on the school uniforms under those aprons... isn't that Yingcheng?”
“Yingcheng students... selling braised goose at a food expo?”
“[Kneeling] The girl at the register is wearing what looks like Cartier's Juste un Clou diamond bracelet...”
“The limited-edition sneakers on that waiter guy look authentic too?”
“Oh my god, I'm actually at the expo right now. I wasn't planning to visit Zone F, but I'm heading over immediately. Anyone else coming?”
“Coming!”
“Coming!”
“By the way, how does the braised goose taste?”
“Tried it. Reporting back: the aroma travels for miles. You HAVE to buy some! It tastes so damn good!”
*****
The popularity generated online was boundless. In almost no time at all, the casual visitors wandering around Zone F began converging on the eastern corner.
As a result, the normally quiet outer section of the expo suddenly became unusually lively. Human beings, regardless of nationality, all shared a love of crowds and excitement. The uproar in the outer zone soon attracted reporters and buyers who had originally been spending all their time in the inner exhibition areas.
People bought food, took photos, and joined the spectacle. It looked as though they were trying to turn the place into the next internet-famous hotspot. But Father Mu's cooking was hardly comparable to those trendy restaurants that survived on hype alone. Even before this, his stall's business had been noticeably better than neighboring vendors despite the sparse traffic. Now it exploded outright, a long queue snaking out from the front of the stall.
*****
In the central exhibition area, one of the expo organizers was escorting a French buyer named Adolf down the steps. He was a major client who had just placed an order worth twenty million U.S. dollars half an hour earlier. The expo's business department was celebrating wildly. Their only regret was that the products he purchased weren't from local provincial brands.
City A had fought hard to secure hosting rights for this expo, hoping to use the opportunity to support local businesses. As a result, the organizer accompanying Adolf had been extremely diligent, tirelessly promoting local products throughout their walk, hoping to convince him to visit City A's exhibits.
"Our city's food culture has a very long history..."
"Really?" Adolf replied politely, though inwardly he had little interest. Like most veteran buyers who attended trade fairs, he had clear objectives and rarely wasted time outside Zones A and B.
After all, wasn't that where all the best and most famous products were concentrated?
The brief interruption distracted Adolf from his impatience.
Listening to the organizer's endless sales pitch, he checked his watch with mild impatience. At that moment, a group of reporters hurried past from behind. One cameraman accidentally bumped the translator with the large camera on his shoulder. He stopped immediately to apologize before rushing off again.
His eyes followed the departing media crew. He recognized the expression on the cameraman's face—a reporter's excitement after discovering an interesting story.
The direction they were heading...
Zone F?
After noticing the large zone marker overhead, Adolf immediately lost interest. Must be a coincidence. What worthwhile thing could possibly be over there? Yet no sooner had he looked away than he heard excited shrieks ahead. Several young women carrying phones hurried past, chatting animatedly.
They turned directly into the same corridor.
"..." Adolf glanced again at the huge F sign overhead. After a moment's hesitation, he turned to the translator. "What were those girls talking about?"
"Huh?" The translator thought for a moment. "I think they were talking about some stall that's become really popular. Lots of people. Something about squeezing through the crowd to take photos."
A really popular stall? In Zone F? Something there could attract that much attention?
Adolf hesitated. Behind him, the organizer was still saying: "...City A also has many famous local food companies..."
His eyes suddenly caught sight of a familiar face. A fellow French buyer was walking by while talking on the phone, heading toward the same direction. Instinctively, Adolf called out: "Mike, where are you going?"
Mike stopped and gestured helplessly with his phone. "My girlfriend saw something on a livestream earlier and went to Zone F to check it out. Now she refuses to leave. Says she found an incredibly popular stall and wants me to come taste it with her."
Incredibly popular...
Adolf fell silent. The organizer behind him had talked nonstop the entire way without getting much response. By now he'd resigned himself to the fact that Adolf probably wasn't interested in local products. Not wanting to push too hard and create a negative impression, he sighed inwardly and prepared to change the subject.
Unexpectedly, before he could invite Adolf to dinner, the usually indifferent buyer spoke first. "You said City A has many food brands with a long history?"
The organizer froze. Instantly sensing an opportunity, he nodded enthusiastically. "That's right! They're all excellent brands!"
So everyone already knew about it? Since even the local organizer spoke so highly of them, Adolf pondered briefly before following his curiosity. "All right then. Let's go take a look."
The organizer brightened at first. Then he noticed the direction Adolf was walking and became completely confused.
Why was this buyer heading toward Zone F? The famous companies he'd been talking about were all in Zone C!
*****
The moment Adolf stepped into Zone F, he instinctively knew where his destination was.
Because the crowds in every direction were flowing toward the same place.
Even the expo organizer was baffled. How could there be so many people here?
Yet there they were. The eastern section had become packed beyond capacity. Even from the outer perimeter, they could see the long queue stretching from a particular stall. The dining area was completely full. Media crews were filming nearby. Young people who weren't even standing in line were inexplicably holding up their phones toward the stall.
Adolf was astonished by the spectacle. "It seems the company you mentioned is truly famous!"
"..." The organizer, somehow receiving credit for something he didn't understand, stood there bewildered. He had no recollection of mentioning any company here. Besides, there shouldn't even be actual companies in Zone F...
But Adolf had already spotted someone he knew and headed over.
The organizer hurried after him. There stood Mike and a woman, waiting in line together. The closer they got to the stall, the stronger the aroma became.
"You simply cannot imagine how incredible the foie gras here is..."
Mike's girlfriend was enthusiastically describing what she'd tasted. Adolf, who had originally held high expectations for the stall, immediately became less interested upon hearing that. "When it comes to foie gras, what place could possibly understand its wonders better than our country?"
"That's completely different! The flavors are amazing in their own way!" Mike's girlfriend argued passionately. The two men exchanged a glance and shrugged simultaneously. Neither of them looked convinced.
Adolf's business operated within his own country, a nation famous for foie gras and overflowing with opportunities in that market. And he was firmly convinced that those opportunities had absolutely nothing to do with the land he was currently standing on.
As a citizen of one of the countries most renowned for foie gras cuisine, Adolf was immensely confident when it came to this product. To be honest, he was already regretting coming here. If he'd known beforehand that this stall's specialty was foie gras, he never would have bothered investigating something so pointless.
Then, as the long line ahead gradually shortened, he made another surprising discovery.
This wasn't even a foie gras specialty shop. The foie gras was merely a side item. The goose meat was the main attraction.
And the geese didn't even resemble the fat breeds back home that produced premium foie grass.
Oh... forget it. He became even more disappointed.
He'd never heard of geese capable of producing excellent foie gras also being prized for their meat. This stall clearly wasn't anything special.
Adolf was nearly ready to leave. But by coincidence, it was finally their turn. Mike's girlfriend eagerly rushed to the cashier while the two men accompanied her with little enthusiasm. "One braised goose and three portions of foie gras, please!"
Adolf understood her gesture and was about to say he didn't want any, so they should order only two portions. Before he could speak, however, the cashier offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, there's only one portion left."
Seeing the finger she held up, Adolf raised an eyebrow. These people really haven't tasted much good food, have they? Even this kind of ingredient is selling out. No wonder such an amateur operation can somehow be called a famous local enterprise.
While he was inwardly scoffing, a girl inside the stall grabbed a large slotted ladle, lifted the lid from an enormous stainless-steel pot, and fished something out. What emerged was a dark brown mass about the size of two fists.
Compared to the foie gras Adolf was accustomed to, it was surprisingly small.
The girl's movements with the knife were undeniably impressive. Outside the stall, some of the people taking photographs even let out excited squeals as she sliced with swift, decisive motions. But Adolf still had absolutely no expectations for the foie gras itself.
That skepticism reached its peak when Mike's girlfriend excitedly carried the plate over.
Then, in the next instant, as the plate shifted in her hands, Adolf caught sight of the brown foie gras wobbling gently with the movement.
He froze. Based on its size, the foie gras should have been quite firm. How could it possibly be that soft?
And then he took a bite. The moment the rich, velvety foie gras melted on his tongue together with the savory braising sauce, he stood rooted to the spot.
The stronger a worldview is, the more shocking it becomes when it shatters.
The expo organizer was still wondering how to lure this walking money tree over to Zone C to generate some business for City A when Adolf suddenly remarked without even lifting his head from his fork: "This establishment must hold a very important place in your city."
The organizer blinked. He looked at the shabby little stall surrounded by customers and hesitated. You've got the wrong idea. Half an hour ago I didn't even know this place existed.
Before he could say that, however, Adolf looked up, his face full of admiration. "City A is truly remarkable. To possess such an outstanding enterprise..."
He pointed at the plate. "If the conditions are right, I'd like to discuss cooperation regarding this product—developing large-scale production and importing it into France."
The organizer nearly choked.
Adolf thought for a moment and continued, "If we work together, allocating ten million dollars in production funding within two months shouldn't be a problem. And if the project succeeds, by my estimate, our country alone could consume at least this amount every year—"
He raised a hand. The official's eyes widened. A rich benefactor!
The moment he saw that raised hand, every word he'd been about to say vanished back down his throat.
Then he burst into hearty laughter. "No problem at all! You have excellent taste! This restaurant is one of City A's rising enterprises. The government has been strongly supporting its development. Everything is progressing very steadily! Please feel free to place an order with confidence!"
Given all the incentives City A's government currently offered for investment and development projects, if this little stall could truly bring in revenue on that scale—
Then countless hands would undoubtedly ensure that everything Adolf envisioned became reality before he ever discovered the truth.
Meanwhile, Father Mu, who was chopping goose alongside Mu Xiangxiang, heard the foreigners nearby chattering away while pointing in their direction. Perplexed, he asked his daughter, "Xiangxiang, can you understand what they're saying?"
Most of Mu Xiangxiang's self-study had focused on German rather than French. After listening for a moment, she pieced together a rough understanding. "I think they're saying our family's restaurant is very influential in City A's food industry."
Father Mu was in exceptionally high spirits that day. With a powerful swing of his cleaver, a goose split neatly in two. He curled his lip. "That guy must be drunk."
*****
For the rest of the day, Father Mu's mood remained visibly lighter.
When he learned that the school bus driver had already gone home because the event would end too late, he immediately asserted his authority as an elder. Ignoring the students' suggestions of walking home, he stood with Mu Xiangxiang at the entrance of People's Square and hailed taxi after taxi until every last student had been stuffed into a cab with their destination properly given.
When he acted serious, he really did have the air of a proper adult. So the young people obediently accepted his arrangements, each carrying a portion of braised goose he'd gifted them and behaving as docilely as little quails.
After the students left, Mother Mu looked at her suddenly authoritative husband in amazement. "Look at you. You've actually got quite a commanding presence."
Father Mu grinned. "Otherwise, how do you think I managed to marry you back then?"
Mother Mu rolled her eyes at him. Then her thoughts drifted back to the parent-teacher conference during Xiangxiang's first year of middle school. Even now, she vividly remembered the deathly pale look on her husband's face when he returned home that day. Afterward, he'd been ill for more than half a month. He would wake in the middle of the night trembling, murmuring apologies to his daughter in his sleep.
And after waking, all he could do was smile bitterly and stare into space. Thinking of that, she couldn't help sighing. "It's wonderful. There were times when I honestly worried you wouldn't make it through."
Father Mu casually draped an arm around her shoulders. "What nonsense are you thinking about? I'm the head of the family. I'm not that easy to break. Honestly, I never took any of that to heart. They were just a bunch of kids who didn't know anything. You're the one who made it into some huge issue. Women always overthink things."
"It wasn't about those kids." Mother Mu laughed at him. "And don't talk about overthinking. I know exactly what it was. You were afraid Xiangxiang and Songsong would look down on you."
"No way! As if they'd dare!" Father Mu denied it immediately. "I'm their father. I'm their hero!"
Mother Mu shot him a sideways glance. "Really? Are you sure? Think carefully. How many years has it been since you attended one of Xiangxiang's parent-teacher meetings?"
Father Mu paused. A moment later, he replied casually, "Then I'll go this time. Aren't you supposed to inspect that farm in City X? Stop putting it off. Pick a suitable day and head out."
Mother Mu stared at him. "Seriously?"
Father Mu gave her a helpless smile. "It's just a parent-teacher meeting. You're making far too big a deal out of it."
Seeing that her husband genuinely seemed calm and stable, she finally relaxed. That night, after washing up, she booked her plane ticket and went to bed.
Recently, she'd been exhausted, so sleep came easily. Almost as soon as she closed her eyes, she drifted off. Sometime later, she surfaced briefly from a tangle of dreams.
The room was pitch-black. She checked her phone. Only one in the morning. She closed her eyes, intending to fall asleep again.
Then she heard a muffled sob.
Mother Mu froze. When she'd gone to sleep earlier, her husband had still been sitting up reading beneath a lamp, looking completely relaxed when he'd wished her goodnight.
At first she thought she'd imagined it. Then came a second sob, unmistakably emerging from beneath the blankets behind her.
She hesitated before turning on the bedside lamp. The moment she moved, the sobbing stopped.
"Old Mu?" After waiting a moment, she gently tugged at the blanket cocoon. "Jiashu?"
The motionless bundle wriggled. Two arms emerged and wrapped around her waist. A moment later, her husband's messy head poked out and pressed against her stomach. She couldn't clearly see his expression.
Leaning against the headboard, she cradled his head with complicated emotions and gently combed her fingers through the hair at the back of his head. "What's wrong?"
The room remained quiet for a long time. Father Mu said nothing. So she waited.
Finally, a strangled sob escaped. Like a child, Father Mu buried his face harder against her stomach, tightening his arms around her.
"A-Si— A-Si—A-Si—"
"A-Si— A-Si—A-Si—"
"I'm here," Mother Mu said. "Jiashu, I'm here."
Holding the woman who had remained his warm little girl for decades, breathing in her familiar scent, he finally lost control and burst into tears. "You were right. It turns out… Xiangxiang really doesn't look down on me..."
Mother Mu froze. Then she smiled.
Gently stroking the stubborn tufts of hair still sticking up on the back of his head despite his age, she let out a soft sigh.
"What are you thinking?" Her expression and voice were infinitely gentle. "How could she ever look down on you? You're her father."
Even if you aren't perfect—you're still her hero.
And my hero too.
-----------------
Author's Note:
What is Brother Nan doing today?
He's watching the livestream of the braised goose stall posted by City A's official expo account.
Starring: Mu Xiangxiang.
The livestream content: Chop. Chop. Chop. Chop.
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