Rao Lili’s mother’s maiden name was Luo, and since she was a teacher, everyone called her Teacher Luo. Zhangxi Town had only one elementary school with few teachers, each covering multiple classes, which meant almost every kid in the neighborhood had been taught by Teacher Luo. Because of this, she’d just give her daughter a few symbolic scoldings.
Which annoyed Rao Lili to no end.
Tao Tao, on the other hand, didn’t mind at all, because even if Zhang Jiaming’s mother came knocking, Tao Guangzhi never scolded her. He’d just say flatly, “What’s the use of you saying all this? Get this straight—your own Xiaoming wants to play with our Putao. We can’t exactly stop him, can we? You’ve come all this way to complain, but you’d be better off managing your own son.”
Zhang Jiaming’s mother would be so furious that she’d leave grinding her molars every single time.
Tao Tao remembered that when Zhang Jiaming grew up, he did indeed get an excellent score on the college entrance exam—something like 650-something points. He was even the top scorer in his subject in the county, ranking either fourth or fifth in science county-wide… she couldn’t quite recall. But she vividly remembered that Zhang Jiaming’s parents walked around with their chins practically pointing at the sky. But later, just two years into college, he dropped out without telling his parents, left behind a very long letter, and vanished without a trace.
His parents searched everywhere for him, even filed a police report. Whether they ever found him in the end, Tao Tao didn’t know.
After all, by that time, she had already left Zhangxi Town to study elsewhere.
Aside from Lili, she had long since lost touch with most of her childhood playmates.
The group walked out of the alley together. Along the way, Rao Lili and Tao Tao did most of the talking, with Zhang Jiaming excitedly chiming in now and then, only to be pushed away by a disgusted Rao Lili.
Yu Luan remained quiet as ever, simply holding tightly to Tao Tao’s hand without saying a word.
The four children walked all the way to the roadside.
Almost all the street trees lining Shengli Road were mango trees—known as “greenification mangoes.” In late winter and early spring, they would bloom with clusters of tiny mango flowers, layer upon layer. When the wind blew, the flowers would fall in a whirl, covering the ground. Stepping on them felt wet and sticky, and the smell was a bit unpleasant.
But summer was different. You could see mangoes hanging down from the lush branches and leaves—some as big as a palm, all with green skin, shaped very much like mangoes.
Pick the big, plump ones, knock them down with a bamboo pole, then leave them in a rice bin for a few days. These little mangoes would turn yellow, soft, and sweet.
Adults always said they weren’t very tasty, but every summer, children loved going out to knock down mangoes and eat them.
By the time Tao Tao grew up, no one bothered to knock down these mangoes anymore. They’d fall all over the ground, and you’d often be walking along when—bam!—a mango would hit you on the head. Probably because by then, kids were taught that these mangoes absorbed car exhaust and weren’t safe to eat.
But back in the 1990s, there were hardly any cars on the road. Owning a single motorcycle was considered quite impressive. Parents didn’t use such talk to scare their children. Tao Tao and Rao Lili knocked down mangoes every year, ate them every year, and were just fine.
Besides mangoes, Tao Tao remembered that Qingquan Temple had an especially large lychee tree. And in Yu Luan’s grandmother’s village, Lipu Village, there was a whole lychee orchard. Every summer, the entire island smelled of lychees. That’s how Lipu got its name—”Li” as in lychee, even though it shared its name with another Lipu famous for its taro.
Even Tao Tao’s elementary school campus had a longan tree older than all the kids. Because Zhangxi Town was backed by mountains, fronted by the sea, and had a hot climate, fruit trees like these always grew especially well. Memories of climbing trees to pick fruit were tucked into every corner of Tao Tao’s childhood.
Rao Lili was an expert at knocking down mangoes. She’d poke and hook the bamboo pole among the branches. The mangoes grew densely, so it didn’t take much skill—one good swing could bring down several.
Tao Tao and Zhang Jiaming would quickly gather the bottoms of their shirts and dart around underneath to catch them.
As for Yu Luan—well, don’t count on him. He stood there motionless, head tilted back, staring blankly at the mangoes in the tree, his thoughts already drifting somewhere far away.
Tao Tao got hit by mangoes several times, and a few that she missed fell to the ground and split open.
Still, the group returned with plenty. Finally, Tao Tao got caught up in the fun, rekindling her childhood joy. With a few running steps, she scrambled up the tree in a flash and broke off a big cluster of mangoes. Rao Lili was so thrilled she jumped up and down with her dog, clapping and cheering.
“Putao, you’re the best!”
“Wow, this cluster must have at least a dozen mangoes! So great!”
Zhang Jiaming looked up at her with admiration. Among all the kids in the neighborhood, Tao Tao was the best at climbing trees. He wanted to climb too, but he didn’t dare. If he got even a single smudge of dirt on his sleeve, his mother would interrogate him—and then he’d get slapped again.
They sat down under the biggest mango tree by the roadside to divide the mangoes. Zhang Jiaming squatted nearby, grinning goofily as he watched Rao Lili and Tao Tao hand out mangoes, one for you, one for me.
He didn’t take a single one. He was too afraid to bring any home.
Tao Tao saw him squatting there, looking so pitiful, that she felt through all the mangoes until she found one that had turned slightly yellow and a bit soft. Peeling a mango was similar to peeling a loquat—first, you scratch the skin with your fingernail, then you could easily peel it without sticking to the flesh.
“Here, Zhang Jiaming, have one first.” Tao Tao peeled half of it and handed it to him.
He was stunned for a moment.
Rao Lili chimed in, “Go on, eat it. It’s not like your mom’s going to make you open your mouth so she can smell for mango, is it?”
Zhang Jiaming broke into a smile again. He took the mango, lowered his head, and took a bite. His face scrunched up from the sourness and astringency, but his eyes sparkled as he held it out. “Hey! Do you guys want a taste? It’s sour and sweet—pretty good, actually.”
Rao Lili leaned over and took a bite. The astringency made her stick out her tongue in disgust, and she complained loudly, “What the heck, are you missing your taste buds or something?”
Zhang Jiaming threw his head back and laughed heartily.
It really must have been sour. Tao Tao quickly waved her hand. “Then I’m not eating any.”
“No way, you have to take a bite too.” Rao Lili was all about fairness. She snatched the mango, shoved it into Tao Tao’s mouth, and only when she saw Tao Tao’s face also scrunch up in pain did she finally feel satisfied and laugh along with Zhang Jiaming again.
Yu Luan looked left and right, then cleverly shrank behind Tao Tao.
Rao Lili spotted him and pointed excitedly. “Hey, your little brother should have a bite too!”
Tao Tao quickly stretched out her arms to shield him. “No, he can’t eat it.”
“Why not?”
“His mouth will get itchy if he eats it.”
“Huh?” Rao Lili tilted her head, sizing up Yu Luan.
Tao Tao’s new little brother was strange. He rarely spoke to anyone and often didn’t respond when spoken to. But he sure loved clinging to Tao Tao—even though she wasn’t exactly nice to him either.
Right now, it was the same. He stood quietly, watching Tao Tao, who had suddenly blocked his way, staring at the back of her head with its two ox-horn braids. His eyes never left her.
“Don’t give him any,” Tao Tao said, finally starting to feel a bit like a big sister.
Back then, the family planning policy was very strict. Apart from families who had come from the surrounding villages for work, most town residents had urban household registrations. Whether they worked for a state-owned unit or not, no one was allowed to have a second child.
Sure, some people braved the fines and went into hiding to give birth before coming back, but the families in this alley were mostly law-abiding. Apart from the Xiao family, who ran a breakfast shop and had three daughters, almost every other family had only one child.
But Tao Tao had gained a little brother because her father remarried, which made her situation special. At first, she’d actually been pretty proud of it.
But in her previous life, that pride had quickly faded because of how different Yu Luan was. Kids don’t have much patience, and they won’t treat you better just because you’re fair-skinned and cute. If you’re no fun, you’re no fun. On top of that, Tao Guangzhi hadn’t been upfront at first. By the time Tao Tao found out that Auntie Yu—who often bought her popsicles and little dresses—had become her stepmother, she simply couldn’t accept it.
Yu Luan was also a severely picky eater, which was actually a symptom of his autism. He would physically reject foods of certain colors or appearances, or dislike certain textures or flavor combinations. This had made it very hard for him to accept new foods from a young age. Back then, Tao Tao didn’t know that. She just thought he was fussy—why wouldn’t he eat this or that? So difficult.
It was only when she grew up that she learned it was called “neophobia.”
Mangoes were one of those unsafe fruits for him. Tao Tao remembered that not only did he dislike the slimy, stringy texture of mangoes, but he also had a mild allergy. His lips would itch after eating them, and he’d scratch so hard that his mouth would bleed.
If he wasn’t going to eat it, then fine. Rao Lili didn’t push further, especially since that mango had already been sucked and gnawed by the sour-resistant Zhang Jiaming until it was splitting apart, looking even more disgusting than Baixieji’s fur before his bath.
The group, dog in tow, gathered up the mangoes and the fallen branches and leaves, then hoisted the bamboo pole and skipped back home.
Tao Tao was using her shirt to carry a bulging pile of mangoes that were about to spill out. Just as she was about to leave, a small, fair hand appeared in front of her.
She turned her head. Yu Luan stood there obediently, hand outstretched, looking at her, waiting for her to hold it.
“…”
She silently locked eyes with his clear, dark, big eyes for a few seconds. Then, resigned, she used one hand to clutch the bulging bundle of fruit and strained to free the other to hold him.
Yu Luan’s chubby fingers immediately closed around hers, gripping tightly.
On the way home, Rao Lili said gloomily, “Hey, did you guys know? I heard that next year, the Spring Festival comes early, so the first half of second grade will be short. That means we’re starting school on the 25th—not September 1st, but the 25th… Putao, is your new little brother transferring to our class? I overheard your dad talking to my mom about it the other day.”
Tao Tao was born during grape season in September. Being a few days past the cutoff, she’d been assigned to the later half of the year and had to start school a year later. That’s why she and Yu Luan, who was a year younger, were in the same grade.
As soon as she heard about school starting, Tao Tao froze. “Huh? School starts on the 25th?”
Zhang Jiaming immediately covered his ears in agony. “Stop, stop, stop! I haven’t even finished my summer homework yet!”
Even though he got good grades, he didn’t like school at all.
Then again—who did like school when they were kids?
“Huh? How can that be? You haven’t finished? I was planning to copy yours!” Rao Lili hadn’t written a single page, after all—there were still over twenty days of summer break left, so it hadn’t even crossed her mind to start.
Zhang Jiaming scratched his face. “Well… I just haven’t done the illustrated poster yet. I finished everything else ages ago.”
Rao Lili’s eyes lit up. “Awesome! Hey, Zhang Jiaming, bring your summer homework over tomorrow so I can copy it? My mom was nagging me today to do my homework!”
“Okay… let me think. I’ll come over first thing tomorrow morning. My mom had someone buy a set of ‘Application Problem Compendium’ from the Xinhua Bookstore in the city. It’s pretty hard. I’ll tell her I’m bringing it over to ask Teacher Luo to help me take a look.”
As Tao Tao listened, it suddenly hit her: this was a terrifying thing.
School starting? Summer homework?
Right. She had been reborn. Which meant she still had to go to school!
And she had to start all the way from elementary school!
Let her calculate—she’d be in second grade next semester. That meant five more years of elementary school, three years of middle school, three years of high school, four years of college… Dear god, she’d barely survived it all the first time. Was she really going to have to do it all over again—another ten-plus years of school?
Tao Tao felt utterly defeated.