When entering the small door between the guardroom and the gate, an empty window in a low wall perfectly framed the silhouette of father’s back. As I approached, somehow, his back shrank in the far corner. He was working day shift. And he was cooking noodles with two eggs to welcome me, as well as to surprise me. It was a sort of traditional hospitality in our home village to welcome a guest with two eggs meaning good luck. To surprise me even more, without an expected common greeting, he teased me by digging out an untold story.