At the ground floor of a residential building in County C. Night.

　　In the living room, Ling Kangwen is rearranging another batch of local specialties into his daughter's suitcase.

　　He carefully weighs the glass bottle of red square tofu, pondering which corner to stuff it into to avoid any potential knocks. After finally managing to squeeze it in, he feels uneasy. Taking it out again, he wraps it in old newspaper, crumpling it up, and then puts it back in. Now he feels more at ease.

　　Ling Hanlu sits cross-legged on the sofa, silent, watching her father prepare for their separation in two days.

　　She recalls the busy days before her marriage, when her father was just as occupied. But back then, amidst the busyness, there was not only anxiety but also worry. It was because of his inability to help.

　　She will never forget the helpless look on her father's face, clutching needle and thread.

　　One night, Ling Kangwen looked at the cotton and bright red satin quilt that the neighbor aunty had helped lay out, feeling like he was facing an endless sea of uncertainties. The tears in his eyes were half due to the reluctance of seeing his daughter married off and half due to his inner struggle.

　　Ling Kangwen is a true intellectual, a member of the local Artists Association. However, when his fingers holding the pen were replaced with a needle and thread for sewing the quilt, he sweated profusely, feeling clumsy for the first time.

　　Even so, he wouldn't allow anyone else to "get involved." He insisted on doing it himself, even if it meant staying up all night.

　　This generational needlework, filled with blessings from elders, was originally better suited for another pair of hands to handle. But those hands were far across the ocean. Busy preparing oatmeal and mashed potatoes for another child.

　　Ling Kangwen took it upon himself without hesitation. Fearless of obstacles, he approached it with diligence and dedication. Just like the first time he brought his seven-pound, four-ounce daughter back home from the hospital's maternity ward, or the first time he nervously bathed that little bundle of softness.

　　After several years of being single, Ling Kangwen naturally acquired many life skills, including simple sewing. But compared to sewing buttons, the task of sewing quilts was clearly more challenging.

　　After every ten stitches, he would suck on his fingers at least three times. Afraid that blood would stain the festive red quilt cover...

　　Ling Hanlu stood by, watching quietly, knowing it wasn't appropriate to disturb. She could only tear a band-aid silently to wrap around her father's index finger, tears shimmering in her eyes.

　　Ling Kangwen comforted his daughter, saying, "It's okay, Dad can handle it."

　　Six years have passed. Ling Kangwen faced the separation with much equanimity. However, when packing his daughter's luggage, he became increasingly meticulous with each passing time, fearing any oversight.

　　"Dad, are you in such a rush to get rid of me? The train ticket is for the day after tomorrow." Ling Hanlu unfolded her crossed legs and let them hang down, patting the sofa. "Take a break, no rush!"

　　"Don't say that. If you're willing to stay a few more days, Dad would be delighted. But since that's not possible, let's stick to the original plan and make sure everything's perfect!" Ling Kangwen fiddled with the zipper of the suitcase.

　　"Oh, Dad, this is far from perfect. It's way overboard! You've stuffed all those jars and cans in there. How am I supposed to finish them all alone?"

　　"Well, uh... alone..." Ling Kangwen supported his knees with his hands and slowly stood up. Seeing his 34-year-old daughter still able to laugh like a soft bundle in front of him, his heart felt a pang, tears welling up in his eyes.

　　"Hey old man, why's your nose so red? Your daughter's doing fine!" Ling Hanlu stepped over, standing behind her father, giving him a shoulder massage. "How's this old cotton jacket of mine? Thoughtful, huh?"

　　"Heh, of course, it's thoughtful. But Dad hopes you'll have one too in the future... whether it's a cotton jacket, a cape, or a windbreaker... Look, Dad doesn't even know what to say anymore." Ling Kangwen patted his daughter's hand back, feeling a mix of emotions.

　　"Well then, let's not say anything. Dad, I want to have a drink with you, what do you say? I'm in my thirties now, every time I eat with you, I drink soft drinks. I've never had a chat over a drink with my real dad. Today, I want to experience that." Ling Hanlu increased the pressure between her fingers.

　　"Sure! Yellow wine, red wine, white wine, your pick! I'll go get some snacks!"

　　With a subtle swipe at his eye, Ling Kangwen slipped into the kitchen. In less than a moment, he emerged with a stack of salted peanuts, a plate of five-spice pig ears and dried tofu mixed with coriander and sesame oil, which he placed on the coffee table in the living room. He dragged out a small stool from the corner, one for each of them.

　　Ling Hanlu heated a pot of yellow wine, pouring a small bowl for her father and herself. "Dad, it's cold out, warm yellow wine suits the occasion."

　　"Girl, your demands came out of the blue. Dad didn't have time to cook something special, so we'll make do with some cold dishes!" Ling Kangwen raised his bowl to chin level. "Here, take it easy and drink!"

　　"Dad, are you still helping out at the newspaper lately?" Ling Hanlu took a sip of wine, mimicking her father's manner of pursing her lips and wrinkling her nose, making an effort to maintain the expression until she successfully captured a selfie. This was the kind of carefree relaxation and unconcern she could only have in front of her real dad.

　　"No, I've stopped. They've got a new layout editor now. I just felt that retirement should look like retirement, making room for others."

　　"I can tell you're still reluctant," Ling Hanlu could discern the true feelings hidden within each of her father's wrinkles.

　　"What else can I do if I'm reluctant? Linger around? Do you really think the world would stop spinning without you? People, at any time, should know their place, be tactful, and not cause trouble for others."

　　"Yeah, I agree. Dad, I remember when I first started primary school, you told me that phrase, 'don't cause trouble for others.' I've always remembered it!"

　　"Of course, when others have trouble, we can't just stand idly by..." Ling Kangwen took another sip of wine, chewing on the crispy pig ear, observing the blush rising on his daughter's face. As he broached the topic of "trouble," he suddenly recalled the youthful face he had seen several months ago. The frequency of his chewing gradually slowed until it stopped, and his lips pressed together into a line of perplexity.

　　"Dad, why stop there?"

　　"Just remembered something... Where did that little guy you brought home last Father's Day come from?"

　　Ling Hanlu's thoughts lagged slightly, her face flushed, as she chewed on a piece of coriander-flavored dried tofu, repeatedly mulling over the words "little guy" mentioned by her father. Her muddled mind finally recollected—it was him, it was Gu Pan. But subconsciously, she was half hesitant about this name. She found herself pondering, how much did she really know about this little guy? And moreover, what significance did he hold for her?

　　"You're asking about that kid... where else could he have come from? Mom and Dad, obviously."

　　"No kidding. You think he popped out of a rock crevice?" Ling Kangwen shook his head.

　　"Actually, that's not far off."

　　Ling Hanlu felt her father hit the nail on the head. Gu Pan, who emerged out of nowhere, was pretty much like he popped out of a rock crevice! So, she recounted to her father the encounters at the Children's Day display window, the coincidental meeting at the Father's Day station, and countless other serendipitous encounters. Ling Kangwen listened with relish, his face adorned with the joy born of wine and curiosity. It had been a while since his daughter had been so enthusiastically discussing someone.

　　"So much talk, yet you still haven't made it clear where he's from."

　　"Yeah, can't quite put it into words. Let's get cheesy for a moment, sent from above. Like a little angel, heh..." Ling Hanlu's slightly fuzzy brain pictured that little guy, half of his body shining with the purest complexion, weaving through the clouds. She couldn't help but chuckle.

　　"Getting tipsy already?"

　　"Not yet, Dad, heh..."

　　"Well, alright. There's something I've been meaning to tell you, but I haven't found the right opportunity. Actually, I wasn't sure if I should tell you."

　　"Then take advantage of the booze to spill it! I'll listen with the help of the booze too." Ling Hanlu was determined to hear it, taking another sip of wine. "Go ahead, Dad, spill."

　　"It was that night when you both came back. You were in the kitchen cutting fruit, and the young man was alone in the living room. I came out of the bathroom and saw him staring at the photo frame on the wall. Not just staring, there was emotion in his eyes."

　　"Which photo was he looking at?"

　　"Yours. The one taken when you graduated from grad school and went traveling abroad that year. He was smiling at you. You know what my first impression was? It was like we were smiling at each other, really. It was hard to tell who melted into whose smile. That kid's smile was so pure."

　　Tears welled up in Ling Hanlu's eyes. "Dad, you're like a poet, with a poetic heart. If I were my mom back then, I'd hold onto you tightly!"

　　"Don't talk nonsense! What's sweet to me might be poison to others, understand?"

　　"I understand. Everyone has their qualities, but it doesn't always mean they'll meet someone who appreciates them."

　　"Look at it optimistically, if you do meet someone, cherish them with all you've got!"

　　"Dad, do I have any qualities? Look at it from a man's perspective, not just from a father's point of view."

　　"You know, in a father's eyes, his daughter can do no wrong, so it's hard for me to be objective. I'll mention a few, and you can judge for yourself. From the start, you've been disciplined, never giving us adults any worries about your studies. You value inner cultivation more than external adornment. The first hairpin with a bow was bought by me for your birthday. You have a sense of proportion in your actions and dealings with others. As for your personality... steady, calm..."

　　"His poison." Ling Hanlu chuckled bitterly.

　　"Self-pity!"

　　"My bad. Dad, give me a few words of blessing!"

　　"Hopefully... in the future, someone will appreciate your sense of proportion, not see your steadiness and calmness as dull. It would be great if they can cook, doesn't have to be a feast, just as long as they can match your dad's skills."

　　After Ling Kangwen finished, he extended his hand, palm facing down. Ling Hanlu understood, smiling as she leaned her head forward, allowing her father's large hand to rest on her head. She couldn't see her own expression, but she could feel her face going through a storm of emotions.