If looked carefully, Song Haoran’s pupils weren’t pure black but imbued with a little bit of emerald-like dark green.
He mentioned that he wasn’t pure Chinese. His father married a Spanish, so he was of mixed-blood.
“I like Spanish food, mostly because my mother made this cuisine for me when I was young.” Song Haoran smiled and said, “Of course, Chinese food is also my favorite dish. It’s a pity that it’s not easy to find them here. I can’t find a chef who serves authentic Chinese food.”
There were some Spanish descendants in this country. It wasn’t difficult to find authentic Spanish cuisine. Of course, the cuisine was influenced by the local food culture.
One of the maid’s interests was naturally cooking. At this time, she was studying the Spanish restaurant’s menu quite seriously. Luo Qiu noticed how eager she wanted to try. My diet will probably be based on Spanish cuisine soon, right?
Of course, the food the maid cooked would retain authenticity. After all, she would practice it many times first.
“So, Brother Song didn’t grow up in China since childhood?”
The food ordered wasn’t served yet, but Luo Qiu had been chatting to Song Haoran for a while. Song Haoren also asked Luo Qiu to refrain from using the formal address.
Song Haoran took a sip of water and nodded, “My father should be considered an overseas Chinese, and his business is here. For China, I have followed my father back to that place several times.”
Song Haoran seemed to be reminiscing, shrugging his shoulders, and said, “He said he was looking for relatives, but unfortunately, his effort was to no avail.”
Luo Qiu’s attention was caught. He liked the feeling of slowly discovering something: Feeling that time was beginning to flow from him as the origin, making his heart start to beat.
Luo Qiu could even feel the blood flow in his body. This feeling gave him another pleasant sensation similar to the elation when peeking at the color of the soul that happened when he switched his perspective to Nero. I wonder where this prankster is?
Maybe we should find a time to switch perspectives.
While thinking about this, Luo Qiu didn’t pause in the conversation but asked, “Oh, Brother Song has relatives back in China?”
Song Haoran smiled. He suddenly felt that he liked this young man with a sense of indescribable intimacy, “Yes, but I don’t know if they are still there or not. According to my father, he mentioned he has an elder brother, which is my uncle. Their age gap is somewhat big. They got separated because of something. In the end, my father wandered alone and came to South America.”
Song Haoran glanced at the time on his watch. At the same time, he inadvertently glanced outside the street and said, “Later, my father sent someone back to China to look around. He did receive some plausible news and clues. Every time, he would happily take me back to China. But the results were unsatisfactory. In the following years, my father’s health worsened. Then, his visits to China became lesser. The last time we went back to China was three years ago. I miss Shanghai’s Crabs and steamed dumplings very much. You can’t find those here.”
Luo Qiu nodded and sighed, “However, even so, Brother Song, your mother tongue is splendid.”
Song Haoran said somewhat resignedly, “I can’t help it. My father is a nostalgic person. He supervised my learning of my mother tongue. Imagine this, everyone around me spoke in Latin, whether it was school or among my friends. But after returning home, I still have to communicate with my father in Mandarin. It’s a bit tough.”
“Your accent sounds like it’s from Jiangsu.” Luo Qiu smiled.
“I heard from my father that his ancestral home is in the Suzhou area.” Song Haoran nodded, but he couldn’t discern Luo Qiu’s accent. It felt like the standard Mandarin accent in the textbook.
Song Haoran suddenly noticed the sm
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