A man who once lived by the edge of a blade, now learning to thread a needle—how tragic is that? The world would surely mourn and weep for him. But when Yang Yi truly threaded that needle, he felt no sorrow or pain, only a secret joy.
"Wow! Daddy, Daddy is so amazing!" The little girl exclaiming in surprise beside him was the source of that joy.
Xixi watched her father casually guide the thread through the tiny eye of the needle, and she couldn't help but stand up, her small mouth forming an O shape. Her wide eyes were filled with astonishment and admiration.
How did he do it?
Though it was Yang Yi's first time threading a needle, helping Mofei out, his sharp eyesight and nimble, thick fingers made it a one-shot success.
"Xixi, want to give it a try?" Feeling a bit smug from his daughter's admiration, he pulled the already-threaded needle out.
Mofei, who was about to take the needle and thread, saw this and laughed in exasperation. "Hold the tip of the needle, don't poke our daughter!" she scolded.
Xixi took the thread end, eager to try, but at the word "poke," she grew a little scared. She pulled her right hand back, waving her left hand nervously. "I'm scared, Daddy, I'm scared. Poking hurts a lot!"
"It's okay, it won't poke you. See the sharp end? Daddy's holding it!" Yang Yi comforted her with a smile. "Just aim here and pass the thread through this tiny hole."
"Alright, Daddy, you be careful too!" Xixi hesitated for a moment, then mustered her courage and stepped forward. She carefully leaned on her father's shoulder while studying the needle's eye closely.
"Here, push the thread through." Yang Yi encouraged her.
But Xixi, despite her good eyesight, started trembling when she brought the thread to the needle's eye. That stubborn thread tip just wouldn't go through.
Her little hand shook so much that the thread wobbled up and down, left and right, a stark contrast to her father's steady hand.
"I can't do it. Daddy, you do it!" Xixi tried for a while, then lost patience, pouting in frustration.
"Daddy will show you a magic trick—threading the needle without even looking!" Yang Yi said enthusiastically, relishing the adoring look in his daughter's eyes.
"Yay!" Xixi perked up, no longer needing to do it herself. She bounced over, her soft little body leaning against her father's shoulder.
Mofei was curious too about how Yang Yi could thread a needle without looking. Holding the cotton ball she'd been working on, she moved closer, and the two pairs of eyes—one big, one small—watched Yang Yi intently.
"Watch closely!" Yang Yi held the needle in his left hand and the thread in his right. He wet the thread tip with his mouth, then turned both hands over, backs facing him, holding the needle and thread toward Mofei.
"Wait, I want to see!" Xixi quickly ran over to her mother, plopped into her lap, and giggled. "Okay!"
Yang Yi really didn't look. Not only did his hands block his view, but he also turned his head away. He felt for the needle's eye with his fingers, then, relying on instinct, brought the thread tip close.
"Wow!" Mofei couldn't help but cover her mouth and gasp. She saw clearly—the thread tip was steady, perfectly aligned with the needle's eye. Yang Yi's right hand gave a gentle flick, and it slipped through.
Then, like an embroiderer, he used his ring and pinky fingers to press the thread, replacing his index and thumb. His index and thumb moved forward along the needle to feel the thread that had passed through, and with a light pull, it was done—as if the whole process was effortless.
"Amazing, amazing!" Mofei clapped her hands.
Xixi copied her, clapping so hard her little hands turned red, all while laughing and tilting her head up.
After letting Yang Yi bask in his moment, they got back to making the cloth doll.
Following Teacher Shen's instructions, Mofei used another thread to tie up the cotton ball, forming the doll's head. Of course, there was a little tail left after tying.
"Xixi, hold this for Mommy first. Pinch it here, be careful!" Mofei gave Xixi a small task.
The little girl pinched the cotton ball, helping on the side.
Meanwhile, Yang Yi followed Mofei's directions and cut the cloth into two pieces. Mofei took the long strip, folded it in half, and sewed along the edges to make a small pouch.
"Xixi's turn!" Mofei smiled, opening the pouch and pointing to the cotton. "Xixi, help Mommy get some cotton and stuff it in."
The joy of being helpful energized Xixi. She crouched down, stood up, and kept stuffing cotton into the pouch, her little face beaming with happiness.
Though she didn't think to grab more at once and tear it apart to stuff...
"Alright, that's enough. Xixi, give Mommy that ball!" Mofei said.
Yang Yi had nothing to do now, so he just watched. Mofei tucked the neck of the cotton ball into the pouch, pressing the head tightly against the opening.
After sewing it securely, the doll's basic shape emerged.
But it wasn't done yet. Mofei took the remaining square cloth, sewed its edges, folded it diagonally, and placed the doll's head at the center, wrapping it with the cloth.
This part was a bit tricky, so Mofei handled it alone. Xixi crouched beside her, her little face tense, as if she were the one sewing, her small mouth pressed tight in concentration.
The smooth side became the face, the deliberately wrinkled side the hair. She tied knots at the bottom ends to form the doll's hands, sewed them in place, and the simple cloth doll was complete!
"All done!" Mofei shook the doll in her hand and handed it to Xixi, smiling. "Xixi, what do you think?"
"Beautiful!" Xixi nodded quickly, pouting. "Even prettier than Teacher Shen's!"
"Really? Then Mommy is so happy!" Mofei beamed, happier than if she'd released a platinum record.
"But I don't want to take it to Teacher Shen. I like it too." Xixi hugged the doll tightly, hesitating.
"Why?" Mofei was puzzled.
"Because I want to sleep with it at night!" Xixi felt this doll was special—made by Daddy, Mommy, and her—completely replacing her beloved big bear in her heart.
"You can take it to submit the assignment and still get it back!" Mofei corrected Xixi's misunderstanding with a mix of laughter and exasperation, then turned to Yang Yi, who was watching TV. "Yang Yi, come here and promise your daughter that you'll ask Teacher Shen to return this doll!"
"Hmm, I promise." Yang Yi replied half-heartedly.
"What are you watching?" Mofei asked curiously.
"Huh? Nothing." Yang Yi tried to hide it nervously.
Mofei walked over suspiciously and saw the TV replaying yesterday's show, with herself singing that song passionately on screen.
"If you want to watch, turn up the sound! Why are you sneaking around?" Mofei blushed, playfully pinching Yang Yi's waist—though it wasn't soft there.
Last night, the show aired at ten, and Xixi was already asleep. Yang Yi and Mofei sat in the living room watching it.
Mofei hadn't wanted to watch, thinking she looked awkward on the variety show, but Yang Yi insisted, especially wanting to hear her sing that song.
Mofei still remembered Yang Yi's expression then—completely focused, like a devoted fan.
"Tell me, when you sang that song, were you thinking of me?" After listening intently, capturing every change in her expression, Yang Yi had scooped her up, held her in his arms, and asked softly.
Mofei had stubbornly said no, but she couldn't help smiling.
"Still denying it? You brought Xixi back from abroad, crossing the ocean—who else would you be thinking of but me?" Yang Yi tickled her.
Mofei was especially sensitive to tickling. She struggled and confessed through laughter.
But confessing was too late. She had underestimated the ruthless rules of the Yang family.
Without further ado, Yang Yi enforced the family discipline.
Combining the charges of resisting arrest and the earlier pillow incident, the energetic Yang Yi made Mofei kneel in repentance on the living room sofa, then endure yoga torture on the big bed, until she nearly fainted in the clouds, sinking into a deep sleep...
What happened after that, Mofei didn't remember. When she woke up the next day, as mentioned before, she and Yang Yi were "sharing a bed."
"How I wish I could see you off for a thousand miles, until the mountains and rivers end, and spend my life with you..." Yang Yi had somehow turned up the TV volume, and Mofei's own singing pulled her back from the blush-inducing memories of yesterday.
"Ouch!" Yang Yi yelped, pulling back his foot. Mofei had stepped on him. It didn't hurt much, but he looked at her in confusion. "What's wrong? Why'd you step on me?"
"Who told you to always think about doing bad things!" Mofei blushed, scolding him.
"What bad things?" Yang Yi was genuinely baffled.
He was just listening to Mofei sing—how was that doing bad things?
What kind of logic was that...