Actually, Tao Tao had seen Yu Luan a few times after she grew up.
After all, his grandmother, aunt, and other relatives still lived in Zhangxi Town, so he and Auntie Yu basically came back every year for the Spring Festival.
The last time she saw him was in the winter of her sophomore year of high school.
Tao Tao’s grandmother had fallen ill. Tao Guangzhi, along with Tao Tao’s uncle, second uncle, and aunts, were taking turns caring for her at the hospital. Tao Tao, on winter break, stayed home each day to cook porridge and prepare dishes, then braved the freezing wind to pedal her bicycle to the hospital.
That day, she had just returned from delivering the meal.
She remembered that winter was especially cold that year. Even the mustard greens growing on the rooftop terrace had been covered in frost. Tao Tao had dug out her thick cotton clothes and long johns—the ones she barely wore once a year.
A thin layer of sunlight covered the faded walls and concrete pavement of South Lane on Shengli Road. It was a clear day, but you couldn’t feel an ounce of warmth. The air was dry and cold, and when the wind blew into your nose, it stung.
She turned into the alleyway where her home was. The moment she looked up, she saw someone standing at the door of their shop.
He was very tall but thin. He tilted his head slightly, looking at the spot above their doorframe where the shop sign had long since been removed. Faint, dirty adhesive marks remained, barely traceable—you could just make out where the words “South Street Bakery” used to be.
Tao Tao’s footsteps faltered for a moment.
She didn’t recognize him immediately.
Not until she got closer. The boy heard her footsteps and turned his head toward the sound.
The light came from the entrance of the alley, hitting the side of his face. The first thing Tao Tao saw was the sharp line of his jaw, then the bridge of his nose, and finally—his eyes.
Her heart felt like it had been stung by a bee.
It was Yu Luan.
Yu Luan’s eyes were unmistakable. His irises were darker than most people’s, yet clear and bright, completely pure. Tao Tao had never seen more beautiful eyes.
He had grown tall. His adolescent frame had stretched long and lean, wrapped in a slightly oversized black down jacket that still couldn’t hide the straight line of his shoulders. His hair was cut to a medium length, revealing half of his pale forehead, which made his features look especially gentle.
When he saw her, he instinctively said, “Jie jie.”
That familiar voice, that familiar intonation. Those two words were like small pebbles dropped into her heart, stirring everything up.
“I’m not your jie jie anymore…” She looked down awkwardly, avoiding his eyes.
After all the unpleasantness back then, as she’d grown older, memories of her own combative, dramatic behavior had mostly turned into shame. It was even harder to accept him calling her “jie jie” so easily, without any trace of resentment.
But Yu Luan simply gazed at her quietly for a long time. There was even a hint of simple happiness in his eyes at seeing her.
Tao Tao forced herself to stay calm as she fished out her keys to unlock the door. “Um… you’re back for the New Year?”
“Mm. New Year, Jie jie.”
“I told you, I’m not your jie jie anymore!” Tao Tao suddenly felt a flash of embarrassed annoyance.
Why was he still talking like this even as an adult? Using “Jie jie” as a period at the end of every sentence?
Yu Luan’s eyes curved into a smile.
He smiled just like he had as a child: the corners of his eyes tilting downward slightly, his lashes falling, the corners of his lips lifting—but then he would shyly press his lips together just a little.
Tao Tao froze. Instinctively, she looked away.
She pushed her bike into the shop and parked it. Yu Luan stood there watching her.
He’s really improved, she thought inexplicably. Now he looks at people when he talks.
“Jie jie.”
He called her again, softly.
Even though this was her own doorstep, Tao Tao felt awkward. She couldn’t be bothered to correct him on the address anymore. She turned around to ask what he was doing there—and as she turned, he reached out his hand and pulled something from his pocket: a spotted dog keychain.
“For you. I made it.”
The keychain was made of tiny Lego bricks, pieced together with great care. The little dog grinned goofily, lifelike and clearly made with effort.
Tao Tao froze. She hadn’t liked spotted dogs for years.
“Happy early New Year,” he said. He stepped forward, took hold of her hand—the one gripping the doorknob—and placed the plastic puppy, still warm with his body heat, into her palm.
His fingers were cool. When they touched her skin, Tao Tao’s whole body went stiff.
“Jie jie,” he said again, his eyes falling into her startled gaze. “Where are you going to take the college entrance exam next year?”
Caught off guard, Tao Tao clutched the puppy keychain, unable to react. Then, suddenly asked that question, her cheeks flushed instantly.
With her grades—in Tao Guangzhi’s words: “Girl, how did you even get these scores? It’s amazing—they’re lower than my uric acid levels on a physical!”
She’d be lucky to get into a third-tier private college. What choice did she really have?
Tao Tao lowered her head and mumbled, “…Somewhere close to home. Where else could I go?”
Hearing this, Yu Luan nodded very seriously, as if she had just given him an answer that mattered deeply to him.
The winter wind blew through the alley, stirring up dust and fallen leaves.
He stood silently in the wind for a few seconds. Then he lifted his eyes again—those pure, dark eyes fixed unblinkingly on Tao Tao’s evasive gaze.
“I’ll take the exam and come back here.”
Tao Tao let out a confused, “Huh?”
Why was he telling her this?
“I already talked to Mom about it. I want to come back.” He repeated it just as seriously, his dark, round eyes fixed on hers for a long time. “Jie jie, I will come back.”
The wind stopped. Standing in the cold winter light, he spoke to Tao Tao word by word, making her a promise:
“Wait for me.”
“Jie jie.”
But none of it came to pass. He died in the spring, right before the college entrance exams.
Later, Tao Tao would often think back to that winter afternoon. The thin, tall figure standing in front of her door. The clean, stubborn sky in his eyes. The words: “Wait for me.”
Right now, at this moment.
Tao Tao was holding little Yu Luan in her arms, sobbing loudly. All the unspoken apologies she’d carried for years poured out freely in the tears of her rebirth.
Tao Guangzhi and Yu Meizhen had just been in the kitchen, heads close together, being affectionate. The sudden sound of a child wailing made them both jump. Without a word, they both assumed Yu Luan had been bullied again.
But when they rushed out to look, they froze in unison.
Why was Tao Tao the one crying?
Yu Luan’s neck was being tightly hugged by her two short, thin arms. At first, he just looked dazed, recoiling a little from the sudden embrace. But as Tao Tao cried harder, snot and tears streaming down into his collar, his whole body flinched—and then he started pouting and crying too.
Tao Guangzhi quickly crouched down, pulled his daughter into his arms, and asked, “What’s wrong? Isn’t my girl the undefeated champion of Shengli Street? Why are you crying?”
Yu Meizhen also panicked, asking quietly, “Xiao Luan, did you make your sister unhappy?”
Yu Luan froze, feeling even more wronged, and shook his head hard.
The moment Tao Guangzhi lifted her up, Tao Tao snapped out of it. Her whole body went stiff. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this close with her dad. She quickly wiped her face on his shoulder and struggled to get down.
The moment her feet hit the floor and she saw Yu Meizhen quietly questioning Yu Luan—who was crying harder, unable to explain himself, looking utterly pitiful—she quickly said, “It’s not his fault. I… I stubbed my toe.”
Tao Guangzhi was speechless. “Seriously? You stubbed your toe. Girl, you were crying like our family went bankrupt.”
We’re not far from bankruptcy, actually… Tao Tao grumbled inwardly, lowering her head. “It hurt, okay?”
“As long as everything’s fine, that’s what matters.” Yu Meizhen quickly smoothed things over. She went to the kitchen, wrung out a towel, and wiped both children’s faces in turn. When she crouched down to wipe Tao Tao’s face, her movements were especially gentle. Tao Tao was a little stiff, but in the end, she just held her neck rigid and didn’t pull away.
Yu Meizhen pressed her lips together. When she stood up, she looked at Tao Guangzhi and quickly blinked at him twice.
Finally, Tao Guangzhi caught on. A slightly goofy smile spread across his face.
That’s right. Tao Tao was unusually well-behaved today! Her attitude toward Xiao Luan and A’zhen had also changed a lot.
Good news! Tao Guangzhi rubbed his hands together happily. This small change made the two of them especially cheerful throughout dinner.
He eagerly set the table. The roast goose was chopped and plated. Plum sauce was served in a small dish. There were also stir-fried choy sum, Mei Cai Kou Rou, peanuts, and fried eggs, all accompanied by green bean porridge.
For a sweltering summer day when appetites were low, it was a pretty generous meal.
Tao Guangzhi and Yu Meizhen were both much more talkative than usual, constantly putting food on each other’s children’s plates.
Yu Meizhen said, “Grape, here, have some goose thigh. It’s not fatty.”
Tao Guangzhi immediately said, “Xiao Luan, try this choy sum. It’s very sweet.”
Yu Meizhen: “Here, here, have a fried egg first.”
Tao Tao looked at the mountain of food piling up in her and Yu Luan’s bowls, then lowered her head and rubbed her nose.
Just… how much of a little terror had she been?
After dinner, Tao Guangzhi generously took two leftover flower basket cream cakes from the freezer.
“Here, one for each of you. Dessert!” His tone was grand.
Tao Tao took one and spun it in her hand.
A small round cake sat in a pink hard plastic flower basket. On top were two piped red rose-shaped buttercream flowers, flanked by two green buttercream leaves.
This kind of little cake was as popular among kids in this era as mille crêpe cakes and mousse slices would be later. Tao Tao remembered really liking them too.
But since these cakes were bought wholesale (more expensive than making them in-house), Tao Guangzhi used to forbid her from just taking cakes from the shop to eat.
Today, though, the old miser had actually pulled out not one but two of them.
How dramatic… Tao Tao grumbled to herself as she scooped up some cake with the little spoon that came with it.
But the moment it entered her mouth, she paused.
The buttercream was overly sweet and greasy on her tongue, with a distinct artificial flavoring. The cake layers were rough and coarse, with large air pockets, dry and stiff in her mouth. It was far from the childhood delicacy she remembered.
Who made this? Their skills are terrible. No wonder so many were left unsold after a whole day.
Cream cakes have a short shelf life. To prevent spoilage and the buttercream from melting or separating, Tao Guangzhi only had six delivered each day—three in the morning and three in the afternoon. Even so, by evening, two remained.
That meant he’d sold only four cakes in a whole day.
Business is painfully slow… Tao Tao frowned as she finished the last bite of cake. Idly, she crushed the empty little flower basket in her hand, the plastic crackling and deforming between her fingers.
No—she really needed to figure something out. She had to help her dad introduce a few new products. This was the moment when Western-style bakeries were just starting to emerge, but their shop was still selling the same old things over and over: chickpea cakes, wife cakes, blind man cakes, mung bean cakes, plus some oily pastries, fried sesame balls, and candied winter melon. Only the occasional elderly neighbor would buy them.
And besides, their shop was a bit of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It was called a bakery, but everything they sold were bing (Chinese pastries). She might as well rename it “South Street Pastry Shop.”
Not that these traditional pastries weren’t delicious—they could certainly be sold alongside other items. But if you’re going to call yourself a bakery, Western-style baked goods should be the main attraction, with the old-fashioned pastries as accents. A real bakery should at least have French toast, pineapple buns, dinner rolls, Portuguese egg tarts, Swiss rolls, toast bread, and so on. Only then would the name be justified.
Plus, this was the era of reform and opening up. People were chasing anything new and modern. Every era has its trends. Times change, and people have to change with them.
Tao Tao wasn’t confident about many things, but when it came to making some different kinds of bread, she had a little faith.
When she thought about it carefully, their shop’s location wasn’t even that bad. True, it wasn’t on a main road—it was tucked inside an alley. But across the street were the Central Kindergarten and Central Elementary School. The foot traffic in this area was actually quite high. If they could build a reputation, her family’s bakery might not necessarily end up closing down.
More importantly, having some savings would allow them to address many other things.
For example, training Yu Luan to be independent.
Based on the few brief conversations Tao Tao had had with Yu Luan when he was fifteen or sixteen in her previous life, plus the modest experience she’d gained volunteering at the rehabilitation center, Yu Luan was relatively fortunate.
He had always been quiet and gentle, not aggressive at all. He hadn’t shown much regression in language or cognitive ability. After moving to Hong Kong, she’d heard that Auntie Yu took him to expensive professional training institutions. The results were remarkable—strangers could hardly tell the difference between him and other children.
Of course, those closest to him could still sense something a little different in his words and actions.
So Tao Tao had always believed that if he could receive early training and intervention, he could absolutely integrate into normal social life as an adult and develop the ability to live independently.
Lost in thought, Tao Tao turned to look at Yu Luan beside her.
He was staring blankly at the red rose buttercream flowers on his cake. He didn’t seem to like this kind of overly sweet, greasy cream cake. Or maybe, since this was a new food for him, he simply hadn’t eaten it. His brow was slightly furrowed, and he was scraping at the frosting with his spoon.
Her eyes fixed on Yu Luan, an idea flashed through Tao Tao’s mind.
She was right. Even though she was a child now and no one would take anything she said or did seriously—being a kid had its advantages too! When a little brat does something strange, no one thinks much of it. She could just pretend everything she did was a whim.
And besides, wasn’t this well-behaved boy the perfect shield?
A wave of clarity washed over Tao Tao. A rough plan quickly took shape in her mind, making her eager to get started. She was about to go ask her dad when he’d start making tomorrow’s pastries—but just as she stood up, she saw him walk in.
He’d slicked his hair back, changed into a round-neck white t-shirt, and thrown on a fashionable fringed denim vest. Behind him followed Yu Meizhen, her hair in big waves, lips painted bright red, wearing a fish-tail red dress and leather sandals.
They looked terribly pleased with themselves, each with a pair of amber sunglasses clipped to their collars.
“Girl, I’m going out with Auntie Yu for a bit—take a walk. You two watch the house. If you go out to play, remember to lock the door!”
Tao Guangzhi walked over and draped his elbow over Yu Meizhen’s shoulder. Yu Meizhen played along, hands on her hips, chin up. Together, they struck a cool pose.
Tao Tao’s mouth twitched. “You’re going for a walk dressed like that?”
“Ahem,” Tao Guangzhi’s weathered face reddened. He defensively touched his hair, which was stiff with mousse. “What, is there a problem?”
Tao Tao rolled her eyes. Who was he kidding? They were probably going dancing!
Don’t let Zhangxi’s small size fool you—there was a big outdoor disco dance hall on People’s Square, complete with a roller skating rink. It got really lively at night.
Yu Meizhen also blushed. She bent down, ruffled Yu Luan’s hair, and instructed him, “Xiao Luan, listen to your sister, okay? Don’t run off. Stay with her.”
Yu Luan was always obedient. He didn’t look at her, but he nodded, poking at the buttercream.
Yu Meizhen immediately turned to the dazed Tao Tao and gave her an appeasing smile. “Grape, thank you for keeping an eye on your little brother. When we get back, Auntie will buy you both snowman popsicles, okay?”
“You’re the best!” Tao Guangzhi added, flattering her.
Tao Tao: “…”
Two minutes later, they’d abandoned both kids and cycled off merrily to enjoy themselves.
Tao Tao stood there, frozen for a long moment.
Then she crouched down in despair, grabbing her two horn-like pigtails.
Help! Comrade Tao Guangzhi has absolutely no drive! He just takes each day as it comes!
No wonder their shop went under!
“Grape! Come out!”
Rao Lili came sliding over, holding a long bamboo pole. She poked her head under the roll-down door, annoyed. “What are you doing? I’ve been knocking on the drainpipe forever and you still didn’t come out. You didn’t forget, did you? Hurry up, let’s go!”
Fine, fine, whatever. She was only eight years old anyway!
As the saying goes:
When it comes to living, the most important thing is to be happy!
“Coming!” Tao Tao threw caution to the wind. She grabbed Yu Luan’s hand and ran out. “Taro—let’s go!”