When the plane landed on the wet runway of Birmingham International Airport, Oliver looked at the familiar gray sky through the cabin window, and a strange sense of belonging instantly enveloped him. The dazzling glory he had gained on the football field was carefully folded and placed deep in his heart. Now, he was just a wanderer returning home. He embarked on his journey home, carrying his longing for family and carefully prepared gifts.
Oliver didn't have much luggage; a carry-on suitcase held his personal belongings, and there were two particularly heavy, high-end shopping bags he had specially brought back from Germany. One was for his mom, a classic Chanel tweed jacket he had specially selected during his layover in Frankfurt, simple and elegant with a sense of luxury, costing over twelve thousand euros. The other was for his father, a custom-made dark gray suit of top-quality fabric and perfect tailoring, steady and grand, also worth a hefty sum, close to fifteen thousand euros.
When buying these two gifts, he imagined his parents' expressions when they received them, and his heart felt as if it was filled with warm sunshine. He didn't linger at the airport; he didn't even change out of his comfortable hoodie and jeans. He took a taxi, heading towards his family Restaurant, the place that held his childhood memories and family struggles, located in the Chinatown near Birmingham city center. This was the restaurant his parents had operated for over ten years; Jules had chosen the name, Thorne's, displaying that his name sense was indeed poor.
The car stopped steadily at the street corner from his memories. Looking up, the storefront, the signboard of the restaurant that had carried the family's efforts for many years, glowed warmly under the gloomy sky. Pushing open the door, the familiar aroma of food mixed with a hint of cooking oil wafted towards him. There weren't many customers in the restaurant today; at this time of day, coupled with the rainy weather, it seemed a bit deserted. Behind the counter, his mom was busy organizing receipts.
"Boss, do you have cold noodles and roujiamo?" Oliver deliberately lowered his voice, but couldn't help but want to smile.
His mom didn't even lift her head, habitually replying, "Yes, yes, please wait..."
Before the word "sit" could leave her mouth, she looked up. When she clearly saw the tall, smiling figure standing in front of the counter, her expression instantly froze, then was overwhelmed by immense surprise and disbelief.
"Son?!" Her voice instantly rose, trembling and tearful, the documents in her hand scattering across the counter with a rustle, which she didn't even notice.
"Oh my, good son! You... why are you back! Why didn't you tell me in advance!"
Tears welled up without warning. She rushed out from behind the counter in a flurry, tightly hugging her son, who was a head and a half taller than her, as if afraid he would fly away again instantly. Oliver hugged his mother back tightly, feeling her familiar warmth and the comforting scent of home: "Mom, this is just to give you a surprise! I'm back!" He gently patted his mother's back, his voice also softening.
She cried and laughed, continuously muttering: "Surprise, surprise, Mom was almost scared to death!"
She pulled her son's hand as if she couldn't get enough of looking at him, scrutinizing him from head to toe: "Have you lost weight? Were you tired from the matches? Are your injuries better? Are you used to the food in Germany?" A barrage of concerned questions poured out.
"Don't worry, Mom, the matches aren't tiring, my injuries healed long ago, and I'm used to German food. With the appetite you cultivated in me since childhood, I can eat anything!" Oliver said with a smile, then quickly added: "Mom, call dad and tell him to come back for dinner too."
"Right, right!" She remembered then, immediately pulled out her phone to call her husband, her voice still trembling slightly from excitement: "Honey! Quick! Hurry! Stop everything! Never mind your orders, come back quickly! Yes, our son is back! He's already at the restaurant!"
Jules on the other end of the phone was clearly stunned for a moment, then reacted, his voice filled with uncontrollable joy: "Really? Good! Good! I'll be right back! Immediately!"
Jules didn't even ask any unnecessary questions, immediately hung up the phone, quickly arranged the remaining work for his employees, eager to return home. The few regular customers in the restaurant also recognized Oliver, happily greeting him, their eyes filled with goodwill for the football star who had come out of Birmingham. Oliver also politely responded to the customers' greetings.
She looked at the few customers and made a decisive decision, saying, "I'm so sorry, everyone, my son rarely comes back from Germany. We're closing the shop today for a family reunion. Everyone's meal today is free, I'm truly sorry, truly sorry!"
She apologized while quickly waiving the customers' bills. The customers were all very understanding, some even leaving with a hint of envy. The atmosphere before Christmas always made people enjoy the reunion. She closed the shop door, gave the kitchen assistants time off, and then hung up the "Closed" sign. The restaurant instantly quieted down, leaving only the lingering aroma of food from the kitchen and the patter of rain outside the window. Not long after, there was a sudden screech of brakes and the sound of car doors opening and closing outside the entrance.
Jules almost ran into the restaurant, still carrying the outdoor chill and dampness. Seeing his son, who had grown much taller and stronger, standing beside his wife, Jules's eyes reddened with excitement. He stepped forward and patted Oliver's shoulder forcefully, his voice deep and with a subtle tremor:
"Good boy! You're really back! Good! Good! You've grown handsome and strong!" Jules said, thumping his son's chest.
"Dad." Oliver responded with a smile, the unspoken understanding between father and son needing few words.
"Let's go! Home! Your mom must have already planned to cook a big feast!" Jules instantly thew Oliver in a headlock.
The family of three, holding umbrellas, walked into the fine winter rain, heading towards their home not far away. The restaurant was temporarily left behind; at this moment, they were simply a family of three reunited in a warm home.
Back in their familiar home, Oliver's mom immediately plunged into the kitchen. Jules and Oliver also quickly washed their hands and followed her in. The kitchen soon became a hive of activity. She was the head chef today, skillfully directing and coordinating, while Jules and Oliver assisted, picking vegetables, washing vegetables, cutting meat, peeling garlic. Oliver had been immersed in the kitchen since childhood, so his cooking skills were quite solid. He sliced potatoes quickly and evenly, his knife skills even making her nod in approval, and he peeled shrimp quickly and cleanly.
"Hmm, it seems your cooking skills haven't gone to waste in Germany, you still have the touch." Jules said, picking chives, while affirming his son's knife skills.
"Of course, it's the skills Mom taught me, I won't lose them. Our coach and teammates all say my cooking is delicious after they've tried it." Oliver replied with a smile, his hands never stopping. The family chatted and laughed, pots, pans, and bowls clanged in the kitchen, steam swirled, and the aroma of home-cooked dishes permeated the air. This was a warmth far greater than any top restaurant could offer. Several signature Cantonese roasted meats, a plate of Jules's favorite stir-fried beef, a pot of Oliver mom's specialty turnip and beef brisket stew, and stir-fried shrimp tails that Oliver liked, as well as garlic vermicelli steamed shrimp that Oliver cooked himself...
A lavish dinner quickly filled the small dining table. Under the warm light, the family sat around, overflowing with warmth. During the meal, his parents naturally asked Oliver about all aspects of his life in Germany: Was training hard? Was the coach strict? How was he getting along with his teammates? Was winter in Germany cold? How did he feel about the matches?... Oliver patiently answered each question, sharing interesting stories and pressures from the football field, and also carefully listening to his parents' admonitions. The atmosphere was relaxed and harmonious.
Halfway through the meal, Oliver put down his chopsticks, looked at his parents, and his expression became serious:
"Dad, Mom, this time I came back, I have something else I want to say."
Shuwen and Jules also stopped eating and looked at their son.
"It's like this, I want to help Mom renovate the restaurant." Oliver directly stated his idea,
"Our shop has been open for years, the kitchen equipment needs to be replaced, the tables and chairs in the front are old, and the lights and everything else should be upgraded. If the environment is better, you'll be more comfortable working there, and customers will also feel more comfortable."
Upon hearing this, She quickly waved her hand:
"Oh no, no need! How can you spend your money! You child, it's not easy for you to earn some money, keep it for yourself! As long as the restaurant can operate, your father and I are used to it, no need for fancy things."
"Mom," Oliver looked at his mother, his gaze firm,
"My current weekly salary is fifty thousand euros. From the start of the season until now, including goal and assist bonuses, I basically haven't had anywhere to spend money. I've already saved over seven hundred thousand euros." The number he stated made Jules raise an eyebrow slightly, clearly a bit surprised that his son had saved so much. "This money is enough to renovate the restaurant like a brand new shop!"
"Over seven hundred thousand..." She was stunned by the number, then felt a pang of heartache, "Then that's even more impossible! That's what you worked so hard to save, keep it for yourself to spend outside, or for buying a house in the future, getting married. Housing prices in the UK are already expensive..."
"Dear, our son has this intention, which shows he's sensible and cares about this family." Jules's steady voice rang out, he looked at his wife, his eyes gentle.
"You know our son's character, once he sets his mind on something, just like a goal he wants to score on the field, he will definitely do it. Our son wants to do something for us, he wants us to live better, he wants to contribute to this home where he grew up."
Jules said to her even more earnestly: "If we stubbornly stop him and don't let him spend this money, he will truly be disheartened. When our son earns money and has the ability, spending it on his parents and on this home will only make him feel a greater sense of belonging and more drive. This feeling is more important than you saving the money for him."
Oliver hadn't expected his father to articulate what he wanted to say, and even deeper meanings, so thoroughly. He nodded vigorously: "Mom, my dad is absolutely right, that's exactly what I'm thinking! Every time I'm tired after a match, or I miss home, I think of our restaurant, and I always want to make our restaurant better. By renovating the restaurant, I've also contributed, and then when I play football, I'll feel at ease! Money spent can be earned again, and once our shop is done, I'll have more energy and motivation to play football!"
Oliver's Mom listened to her husband and son, looking at the sincerity and urgency in her son's eyes, and could no longer say no. Tears welled up in her eyes again, this time tears of relief and emotion. She reached out and wiped the corner of her eye, finally revealing a smile, and playfully tapped her son's forehead: "Okay! Okay! I can't win against you two! Mom will listen to you, listen to you!" Her tone was full of happiness and the warmth of being surrounded.
"That's right!" Jules laughed heartily, raising the teacup in front of him, "Come, to our family reunion, to our son's thoughtfulness, and to the rebirth of the restaurant, let's toast!"
"Cheers!" Oliver also happily raised his cup, and the crisp clinking of glasses echoed in the small home.
...
In the following days, Oliver's "renovation plan" quickly unfolded with Jules's full support and connections. Jules himself was in foreign trade, so he knew many friends in engineering and building materials, making the process highly efficient. Oliver became the "supervisor" for the restaurant's renovation. The family of three followed the master craftsman in charge of the project, and Oliver carefully inquired about every detail.
"Mr. David, let's replace these eight tables in the front with this kind of oak solid wood. They're sturdy, durable, and look clean."
"Mr. Griffin, the exhaust system in the back kitchen must be replaced with the latest! My mom spends a lot of time in the kitchen, so the fumes need to be completely cleared out, so she doesn't get choked."
"Uncle Amos, is this freezer not big enough? Then let's get three large ones, right? Food preservation is very important."
He was meticulous, with a precise eye. He considered not only aesthetics but also practicality and comfort of use. His mom watched her son handle various trivial matters in an orderly and competent manner, her eyes filled with pride, and she truly understood the weight of her husband's words. After spending this money, Oliver truly felt a sense of accomplishment in creating a haven for his family. The workers got to work with great enthusiasm. Old tables and chairs were moved out, and the new wooden tables emitted a fresh scent; the walls were repainted a warm beige, and the lighting was replaced with bright and soft LED strips; the floor was re-laid, clean and bright. What made her happiest was the restaurant's back kitchen.
The brand-new stainless steel countertops were so shiny they reflected light, several large commercial freezers emitted cold air, the fume purification system was quiet and efficient, and even the stoves were upgraded, with stronger flames and smoother controls. The entire kitchen was transformed, as if reborn. Her face was constantly beaming with an uncontainable smile as she watched these drastic changes. She touched the brand-new countertop, exclaiming, "This kitchen is almost like the back kitchens of those big hotels I see on TV. It will be so much more convenient to cook now."
"Of course, it must meet the highest standards." Oliver stood in the center of the newly renovated hall, hands on his hips, a proud smile on his face. Outside the window, Birmingham's weather remained gloomy, but under the bright lights, the brand-new restaurant was like a bright, hopeful lighthouse. Here, there was sweat, the warmth of home, and even more, the bond of blood and a young man's pride. Oliver looked at his parents' satisfied and happy faces, at this place that held countless childhood memories and was now better because of his efforts, and a warm current coursed through his entire body.
This tangible improvement created for his family brought him immense satisfaction and happiness. He loved football; playing was his dream and career. He loved this home even more; it held the meaning of his struggles and his deepest sense of belonging.
...
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