*
"Mai Xiaomai, you're already 28 years old, if you don't find a man to marry soon, I won't know where to put this old face of mine!"
Having just attended the neighbor's daughter's wedding, Mai's mother hadn't even stepped in the door when she loudly berated her daughter, Mai Xiaomai, who was feeding the goldfish in the entryway.
"Mom, your face isn't old, it's tender—it looks good on your neck!"
Used to her mother's nagging, Xiaomai retorted teasingly.
"Tender my foot! I'm already 50 years old, and don't you think that buttering me up will get you off the hook, Mai Xiaomai. I spared no expense in passing on all my good genes to you. You've got the looks and the brains, so how come at your age you still can't get married, becoming the butt of everyone's jokes as some kind of super leftover warrior?"
As Mom spoke, she angrily kicked off her shoes to the side and slipped into her slippers, approaching Xiaomai with a few business cards in hand, "For your sake, today at the wedding reception, I scanned the men there with my presbyopic eyes like radar, looking for suitable young men and shamelessly asking about their marital status, nearly becoming the laughing stock of the party."
"Mom, if you know you're going to be the laughing stock, why still do it? Am I really that terrible that you have to push me out like I'm some product?"
Xiaomai rolled her eyes, not even bothering to glance at the business cards.
"It is an eternal rule that men should marry when they come of age, just as women should. When I was your age, you were already six years old!
Women are like flowers; her blooming period doesn't last long. Once past the age of 25, she becomes yesterday's wilted blossoms, unable to compete with the blossoming young girls. It becomes extremely difficult to marry a quality man, and now you're 28, in just two more years you'll be a 30-year-old old maid. Other than divorced men, widowers, or those who are so ugly they are useless, who would consider you? Any single man worth his salt wants a fresh-faced, sprightly eighteen-year-old. Listen to me, Xiaomai, while you still have some looks left and can pass for twenty, get married quickly, or I will never let you live it down!"
With a face full of earnest persuasion, Mom continued, reading off the business cards, "The single men I've found today are not too bad, and they're about the right age for you. Take Huang Yidong, for example; he's 30, a department manager. The guy isn't very tall, but he compensates by being clever and capable. I think he would be a decent match for you!"
"How tall?"
To keep from dampening her mother's enthusiasm, Xiaomai humored her.
"Hmm, just estimating, he's around 168 centimeters, I guess."
"Mom, I'm 172 centimeters. Even without high heels, wouldn't he feel uncomfortable around me? Plus, I want my children to inherit good genes. What if you end up with a short, stumpy grandchild? You wouldn't be happy with that."
"Sigh, you make a good point. Initially I wouldn't mind a shorter son-in-law, but I can't have my only grandchild being shorter than the others. Let's put him aside for the moment and look at Chen Dadong – this one's taller, at least 175 centimeters. Pairing up with you, the kid surely won't be shorter than 178 centimeters."
Mom pointed to another business card, "This guy's looks are passable, and he's currently a salesman, but I think he's quite diligent and ambitious. With a few more years of effort, he's bound to get a promotion."