Mazao's parents welcomed us into the bakery.
To be precise, Mazao was the only one who was truly welcomed, while I was not. Which family's proper parents would have a good first impression of an unknown adult boyfriend brought home by their young daughter? This couple was no exception. Mazao's father scrutinized me up and down as if I were a criminal, and Mazao's mother held her daughter tightly in her arms as if for protection.
Mazao looked up at her mother, then at me, seemingly wanting to come closer to me but unable to break free from her mother's arms.
The second floor of the bakery seemed to be the living quarters for this family, while the ground floor, which was the business area, had a small dining area currently being used as a makeshift living room. We sat down there. Mazao's father sat opposite me, while Mazao's mother sat at a nearby table with Mazao in her arms.
