Her heart ached at the thought that life's hardships had forced her daughter to grow up.
"Yun'er, did you receive the package and letter I mailed you last month? The one with the two tins of malted milk, two bags of powdered milk, a big bag of hawthorn strips, and a bag of raisins?"
Chi Yun'er hummed in agreement.
"As long as you got it, that's good, that's good," Mrs. Chi said from the other end of the line, a mix of laughter and tears in her voice. She wiped at her eyes, fighting to keep her voice steady:
"Your uncle sent over some more of that shredded squid you love, along with some dried shrimp and seaweed for soup. I also just got some sandwich cookies that keep well. I'll mail everything to you in a bit..."
"Do you still have enough money? Your dad and I just got our summer heat subsidies..."
Listening to her mother, who sounded ready to mail her everything they owned, Chi Yun'er gripped the receiver, sobbing too hard to speak.
