Yang Zhiyan replied: I don’t want to go back. Today, I want to be a little kinder to myself.
“Be a little kinder to myself.” Even saying those words took courage.
Jiang Siya: Well, look who’s finally come to her senses. Wait there—your bestie is taking you out for a pretty meal.
Yang Zhiyan: A pretty meal?
Jiang Siya: You know—the kind that’s expensive, gorgeous, delicious, and looks amazing in photos.
Yang Zhiyan smiled until her eyes curved into crescents. She had never had a “pretty meal” before.
Jiang Siya: I’ll be there in forty minutes. Get yourself ready, put on one of your qipaos, and we’ll go eat beautiful food and take beautiful pictures.
Yang Zhiyan glanced down at what she was wearing.
An apron over a light lavender blouse, paired with black trousers. The hem of the pants was dusted with blue-and-white tailor’s chalk that refused to brush off.
She untied her apron and hung it on the hook beside her workbench. Using her phone’s black screen as a mirror, she checked her face.
Not bad.
Her lips were a little dry, so she dug a lip balm out of her bag, applied a layer, then smoothed the loose strands by her temples with her fingers.
After that, she changed into a qipao, pinned up her hair, and put on light makeup.
Forty minutes later, a white BMW pulled up outside.
The driver’s window rolled down, and Jiang Siya leaned out. A pair of sunglasses rested on her nose, and she was wearing a bold, seductive lipstick shade that women jokingly called the “heartbreaker color.” She whistled at Yang Zhiyan.
“Hop in, gorgeous.”
Yang Zhiyan climbed into the passenger seat. Before she even had time to fasten her seatbelt, Jiang Siya floored the accelerator.
“Slow down.”
“Slow down for what? I’ve been driving for six or seven years. That’s longer than you’ve been sitting behind a sewing machine in your studio.”
Holding the steering wheel with one hand, Jiang Siya reached over with the other and pinched Yang Zhiyan’s cheek.
“You’ve gotten thinner. Does your family not feed you?”
“They do.”
Yang Zhiyan rubbed the spot she’d pinched.
“They do my foot. You’re the one cooking the food. That’s your food—not something they give you.”
Yang Zhiyan stayed silent.
Jiang Siya glanced at her and wisely let the subject drop.
She pushed her sunglasses up onto her head, revealing her whole face.
She had a round, fair face that radiated cheerfulness. When she smiled, two deep dimples appeared, and even when she wasn’t smiling, faint little dents remained on her cheeks.
She had one of those faces that instantly lifted people’s moods.
Completely at odds with the way she spoke.
Her words fired off like a machine gun—rapid, blunt, and merciless.
Yet with a face like a New Year’s doll, no one could stay angry at her.
“So, you’re really moving out?” Jiang Siya asked as she changed lanes, signaling and checking her mirrors in one smooth motion.
“Yeah. I’ve started looking for a place.”
“You should’ve moved out ages ago.”
Her tone was unwavering.
“If you keep living in that house, sooner or later they’ll suck you dry. Your brother, your sister-in-law, your mom, your dad—it’s like they’ve all got straws stuck into you, and you still think that’s how things are supposed to be.”
Yang Zhiyan looked out the window.
They were crossing Haicheng Bridge. Several white birds skimmed low over the river, flapping their wings lazily as if taking a leisurely stroll across the water.
“Found a place yet?” Jiang Siya asked.
“Not yet. I looked at two apartments today, but neither one worked out.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for you. One of my distant uncles is a real estate agent. He’s got plenty of listings. I’ll ask him to help you.”
“Okay.”
“And don’t rent somewhere just because it’s cheap.”
Jiang Siya overtook another car, turning the steering wheel sharply yet steadily.
“Safety comes first. If it costs more, then it costs more. I’ll help you out.”
Yang Zhiyan turned to look at her.
Jiang Siya kept her eyes on the road, but the dimples at the corners of her mouth deepened.
“After paying rent, how much of your salary will you even have left? It won’t even cover your fabric.”
She continued,
“Get settled first. If you’re short on money, tell me. Don’t be polite with me. I’m an only child—my parents have more money than they know what to do with. Feeding one more person isn’t going to make a difference.”
Yang Zhiyan opened her mouth to thank her, but every word she thought of felt inadequate.
In the end, she said nothing.
She simply reached over and gently patted Jiang Siya’s arm.
Her arm was soft.
Jiang Siya laughed quietly at the gesture and didn’t say anything else.
After driving for more than twenty minutes, they turned onto a quiet street.
Both sides were lined with renovated colonial villas that had been transformed into restaurants. The shadows of plane trees stretched across the roof of the car in scattered patches, as though someone had painted over it.
Jiang Siya parked in front of a Cantonese restaurant.
The storefront wasn’t large, but it was tastefully designed.
Dark wooden doors.
Bronze door knockers.
At the entrance stood a neatly trimmed osmanthus tree, pruned into a perfect round shape. It wasn’t blooming this season, but its leaves were a rich, almost black shade of green.
“This place is delicious.”
Jiang Siya switched off the engine and pulled out the key.
“It’s just expensive.”
“How expensive?”
“For two people? Seven or eight hundred yuan, at least.”
Yang Zhiyan hesitated for a moment.
Then she pushed open the door and got out.
In the past, spending seven or eight hundred yuan on a meal would’ve kept her awake all night from heartache.
Today…
Today she felt that Yang Zhiyan deserved good food.
She wanted one wonderful meal.
She wanted to sit quietly in a restaurant where no one would call her over to wash the dishes.
She wanted to eat a meal she hadn’t cooked herself.
The restaurant was much larger inside than it appeared from the outside.
After passing through a short hallway, the space suddenly opened up.
Seven or eight tables were arranged throughout the dining room, each covered with crisp white tablecloths.
On every table sat a small vase holding a single fresh butterfly orchid.
Warm yellow lighting reflected softly off the dark wooden floor, giving everything a gentle glow.
The air carried the enticing aroma of Cantonese roast meats and freshly steamed seafood.
Instead of clashing, the scents blended perfectly, making her appetite grow.
They chose a table by the window.
The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the street outside—plane trees, streetlights, the occasional passerby, and the warm glow spilling from the flower shop across the road.
A waiter handed them a menu.
Its cover was embossed with gold lettering and felt surprisingly heavy.
Yang Zhiyan opened it.
The first page featured the restaurant’s signature dishes, each photographed so exquisitely they resembled works of art.
The prices were equally exquisite.
She took one look, closed the menu, and handed it to Jiang Siya.
“You order. You know good food.”
Jiang Siya didn’t stand on ceremony.
She flipped through two pages and rattled off a string of dishes to the waiter at lightning speed.
“Half a roast goose with crispy skin, steamed spare ribs in black bean sauce, blanched Chinese flowering cabbage, two baskets of premium shrimp dumplings, one order of barbecued pork pastries, and two bowls of mango pomelo sago.”
“That’s enough, really.”
Yang Zhiyan reached over to stop her.
“And one seafood congee.”
Jiang Siya ignored her and continued speaking to the waiter.
“Let the rice simmer a little longer. I want the grains cooked until they bloom.”
After taking their order, the waiter left.
Jiang Siya picked up the teapot and poured each of them a cup.
The tea was piping hot, wisps of white steam curling upward.
“All right.”
She set down the teapot and rested her chin on her clasped hands.
“Talk.”
“About what?”
“About why you suddenly came to your senses today.”
Her bright eyes sparkled with the unmistakable expression of someone ready to hear juicy gossip.
Yang Zhiyan lifted her teacup, blew on it, and took a cautious sip.
It was hot enough that she instinctively pursed her lips.
“It wasn’t exactly sudden.”
She set the cup down and slowly traced a finger around its rim.
“I just realized… I don’t want to keep living like that anymore.”
“Like what?”
“Going home. Cooking. Washing dishes. Waking up the next day. Going to work. Coming home. Cooking. Washing dishes.”
She stared at her reflection shimmering in the tea, her face tinted a light amber by the liquid.
“I realized that in that family… I’m not a daughter. I’m not a little sister.”
She paused, searching for the right word.
“I’m just…”
“…a tool.”