“Hao Hao, can you let go of my hand? I need to put my notebook in my backpack.” Sheng Nian looked at Hao Hao and repeated, for what felt like the hundredth time that day, the same question.
He didn’t know what was up with Hao Hao today—ever since he arrived at school, he’d been clinging to him. Holding hands during class, during games, during meals, even during naptime, and even when going to the bathroom, he had to hold hands and go together.
Not that Sheng Nian minded being closer to his good buddy—but it was really inconvenient, especially now when he was trying to pack his backpack. It was so awkward doing it with one hand.
Normally, he’d have his bag all packed by now. He still hadn’t even put his notebook in.
His aunt was always the first parent to pick him up from class, so he needed to hurry up. School was almost over—his aunt must already be here.
“No way, Nian Nian! We’re best buds—holding hands just shows how close we are!”
The truth was, Hao Hao was just excited. Last night, his mom told him that starting today, he’d be having dinner at Nian Nian’s place and would go home with him after school. Ever since he got here this morning, he’d been terrified that Auntie might forget about him.
So Hao Hao came up with a foolproof plan: stay glued to Nian Nian.
Auntie might forget about him—but she’d never forget about Nian Nian. Holding Nian Nian’s hand was the safest bet. Plus, it’d show everyone that he and Nian Nian were the best of friends.
Not just the kids in class—but Kang Kang too.
“But we’re already close. We’ve always been best buds.” Sheng Nian had always thought that way. His very first friend was Hao Hao, and of course his best friend was him too.
He’d even envied Hao Hao before for being spanked by his mom after crying—because his own mom and aunt never hit him. But after seeing Hao Hao get his pants pulled down for a spanking, he stopped being envious.
“Hehe.” Hao Hao beamed when he heard that. “That’s right! We’re best buds forever!”
“Nian Nian, your aunt is here to pick you up!”
The teacher’s voice came from the classroom door.
Sheng Nian, who’d been talking to Hao Hao, shot to his feet—and because he was still holding Hao Hao’s hand, he ended up pulling him up too.
“Hao Hao, my aunt’s here. I’m going home.”
Instead of letting go, Hao Hao held on even tighter.
Just as Sheng Nian was about to say something else, the teacher’s voice came again from the doorway. “Hao Hao, you can go home too.”
“Yay!”
Before Sheng Nian could speak, Hao Hao was already pulling him out of the classroom.
“Auntie!” Sheng Nian called out, with Hao Hao echoing right behind him.
“Thank you, teacher. I’ll take these two home now.” Sheng Qiu said goodbye to the teacher and had the two little ones say goodbye as well.
Sheng Qiu held Sheng Nian’s hand, and Sheng Nian was being pulled along by Hao Hao—the three of them, one adult and two kids, walked harmoniously out of the kindergarten.
“Auntie, isn’t Hao Hao’s mom coming to pick him up today?”
Before Sheng Qiu could answer, Hao Hao jumped in. “Hehe, Nian Nian! From now on, I get to walk home with you! And we’ll eat together too! We’re going to be the bestest best buds!”
Sheng Qiu had already told Sheng Nian the night before, after agreeing to Hu Li’s request, that Hao Hao would be joining them for dinner from now on. So Sheng Nian wasn’t surprised by the part about eating together—but he hadn’t expected Hao Hao to walk home with them too.
“Really?!”
“Of course. Hao Hao’s parents are both busy with work, so he’ll be coming home with us after school from now on,” Sheng Qiu explained.
Sheng Nian had been a little down about not being the first kid in class to leave anymore. But now, hearing his aunt’s words, he looked at Hao Hao with a hint of sympathy.
Hao Hao’s parents didn’t even come to pick him up from school—how sad.
“Hao Hao, when we get back, I’ll share the popcorn Auntie made just for me.” That popcorn was sweet, fragrant, and Sheng Nian’s favorite snack—he didn’t even like bringing it to school to share with the other kids.
But now, he was willing to share it with Hao Hao—that showed how much he meant to him.
“Popcorn! I want popcorn! Thanks, Nian Nian!”
Hao Hao had no idea he was getting popcorn because Sheng Nian felt sorry for him—all he knew was that he was over the moon.
Sheng Qiu could tell what was going on, but seeing the two of them getting along so well, she didn’t say anything.
Let the misunderstanding give Hao Hao even more popcorn.
Besides, Sheng Qiu thought Sheng Nian had been eating too much popcorn—it wasn’t good for his teeth. She’d originally made it for him to share with friends, but since he loved it so much, he’d started hoarding it all for himself. If she’d known, she wouldn’t have made so much. Now that Hao Hao was sharing it with him, that was perfect.
Back at the Sheng household, Sheng Qiu gave the two little ones a few reminders and headed into the kitchen. Hao Hao, meanwhile, stuck to Sheng Nian like a shadow.
“Nian Nian, popcorn! Popcorn! I want popcorn!”
Sheng Nian put down his backpack first and quickly brought out the jar of popcorn. The moment Hao Hao saw the big jar full of popcorn, he couldn’t wait to pounce on it.
“Hao Hao, you have to wash your hands first before you can eat the popcorn.”
As eager as Hao Hao was, he still went and washed his hands properly.
After Hao Hao showed off his clean hands, Sheng Nian finally handed him the popcorn jar.
Sheng Nian sat nearby reading a picture book, while Hao Hao crunched away on the popcorn. In his mind, Auntie’s popcorn was the best in the whole world—different from the store-bought kind, sweet and fragrant.
If Sheng Qiu knew what Hao Hao was thinking, she’d have told him: of course it’s different. Store-bought popcorn is mostly dry and savory, but hers was made with butter and sugar—milky and sweet. No kid could resist it.
By the time Kang Kang was dropped off by his grandmother, he was naturally drawn to the popcorn in Hao Hao’s hands too.
Hao Hao, of course, was reluctant to share. He could easily finish that whole jar by himself. He was always happy to share toys, but when it came to good food—not a single bite. In the end, it was Sheng Nian, the owner of the popcorn, who stepped in and gave some to Kang Kang.
When Sheng Qiu came out with freshly squeezed pear-pineapple juice for the kids to drink, she found Hao Hao and Kang Kang in a popcorn-eating contest, with Sheng Nian trying to stop Hao Hao from sneaking Kang Kang’s share.
If she remembered correctly, that jar of popcorn had barely been touched—but now, there was only a thin layer left at the bottom.
“If you eat that much popcorn, you won’t have room for dinner later.”
“I can eat it all!” Hao Hao jumped up first. It was just popcorn—he could still eat two bowls of rice.
Kang Kang stood up too, looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry, Auntie.”
Sheng Nian, the popcorn’s owner, finally snapped out of it. Auntie always told him not to eat too much before meals, or he wouldn’t have room for dinner—but he’d already let most of the popcorn get eaten.
“Sorry, Auntie. I didn’t mean to.” He just felt bad for Hao Hao.
Sheng Qiu hadn’t expected that one remark would make both Sheng Nian and Kang Kang apologize.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Auntie’s not mad. Eat as much as you like—but too much popcorn can make you prone to heatiness, so kids should go easy on it. Now, come have something to drink.”
It seemed her pear-pineapple juice had come at just the right time—it helped cool down the body and aid digestion.
The three little ones obediently picked up their cups and took a sip.
“So yummy! Auntie, what is this?” Hao Hao was gulping down his juice—it tasted like pineapple.
“It’s pear-pineapple juice. Good, isn’t it?”
In response, three little heads nodded in unison.
“The juice is just to quench your thirst. No more popcorn—we’ll have dinner soon. You can watch some TV now.”
To be honest, even though there was a TV in the living room, Sheng Qiu and Sheng Nian hardly ever turned it on. Sheng Qiu thought the picture quality wasn’t great and the screen was a bit small—too much strain on the eyes. As for Sheng Nian, he just wasn’t in the habit of watching TV—he preferred picture books.
Hao Hao and Kang Kang, on the other hand, loved TV, but their families were strict about screen time—they had a fixed schedule for it.
When they heard Sheng Qiu say they could watch TV, Hao Hao wasted no time turning it on and flipping to his favorite channel. Kang Kang squeezed in next to him, even forgetting to drink his juice.
As for Sheng Nian, he pretended to keep reading his picture book, but his eyes kept drifting toward the screen.
Seeing that they were all glued to the TV and forgetting about the snacks, Sheng Qiu felt satisfied that her plan had worked—and turned back to the kitchen.
With a ding from the oven, the cumin lamb chops were done. Since there were three kids eating, Sheng Qiu hadn’t added chili powder to the lamb—instead, she’d prepared a dipping sauce on the side.
Tonight’s main dish was cumin lamb chops, along with a zucchini three-delight roll, and a hot-and-sour seaweed salad—heavy on the sweet and sour, with just a hint of heat.
As for soup, since they already had juice, Sheng Qiu didn’t make any.
There were only three dishes, but each one came in generous portions. She’d baked the lamb chops in two batches. The zucchini rolls were crisp and refreshing, and the seaweed salad was tangy and appetite-stimulating. When Sheng Qiu had tasted them earlier, she’d almost wanted to grab a bowl of rice and dig in.
Right now, though, her senses were completely taken over by the aroma of the cumin lamb chops.
Bold.
Overwhelmingly bold.
And that boldness didn’t stop at the Sheng household—it drifted out through the window and invaded other people’s homes, throwing its weight around.
The hardest hit was Kang Kang’s place, right downstairs.
Ever since she’d started sending Kang Kang to Sheng Qiu’s for dinner, Grandma Kang had developed a new evening ritual: opening all the windows as wide as possible to catch a whiff of whatever Sheng Qiu was cooking.
Today, the bold scent of cumin lamb chops hit Kang Kang’s house first.
Staring at the plain tofu and greens on the table, Grandpa Kang—overwhelmed by the aroma in the air—pulled a long face and couldn’t force down another bite.
“Old lady, can we skip the tofu and greens tomorrow? Or at least close the windows?”
This was torture. After every meal, his brain and his stomach spent the whole night at odds with each other.