Wen Xiaohua's being a smooth talker turned into the pretext for my father's lecture that evening at home.
"You're a grown-up now. Couldn't you even pay your respects to the elders during the New Year?"
I didn't speak, wanting to pick up the newspaper to read.
"Put that down, Cheng Jiayang. Where are your manners?"
I had no choice but to bite the bullet and listen to his preaching, mentally counting sheep.
One, two, Australian ones, New Zealand ones...
My mother was unimpressed, "What kind of socializing do people like us need to do? Besides, what's so great about a girl being so articulate?"
Mom, you're absolutely right, Mom, you truly are my mother, at critical times it's still you who is the best.
"I'm disciplining the child. You be quiet," he said.
I was on the verge of laughter at his words.
But honestly, Wen Xiaohua's manners and temperament were impeccable. Being eloquent was also an essential professional quality. This lady was, on the whole, pretty perfect.
