My father's beef noodle soup is highly praised. But as a child, I never got to taste the noodles full of beef; I only ate plain noodles in clear broth. When troublemakers came to the shop, my parents would always swallow their pride and serve them noodles with extra meat and an egg to keep the peace. Under the gaze of those people, my mother would hastily shield me as I silently hid my own feelings of grievance and confusion.