By the time the dumplings were served, Yan Tingxu had already changed into clean clothes and was sitting at the table.
Shen Qingyou set out two bowls of dumplings and brought over a few small plates of side dishes — pickled radish skin she’d made ahead of time, fried peanuts, and a dish of Laba garlic.
“Third Uncle, eat while they’re hot.”
Yan Tingxu glanced at her and picked up his chopsticks.
Shen Qingyou sat across from him and also picked up her chopsticks, but instead of eating, she just watched him.
He picked up a dumpling and took a bite.
Pork and cabbage filling. The juices spilled out.
After two bites, he looked up.
“Good.”
Shen Qingyou’s eyes curved into crescents. Only then did she look down and eat her own.
Halfway through her meal, she suddenly remembered something. She got up, ran to the kitchen, and came back with a small bowl.
“Third Uncle, try this.”
The small bowl held vinegar, but the color was darker than usual, and a few slices of garlic floated inside.
Yan Tingxu glanced at it. “What’s this?”
“I mixed it myself,” Shen Qingyou said, a little embarrassed. “Added a bit of soy sauce, some sesame oil, and a little sugar. Give it a try.”
Yan Tingxu picked up a dumpling, dipped it in the bowl, and put it in his mouth.
He chewed. Paused.
Then he dipped again and ate another.
Shen Qingyou watched him, her eyes dark and bright.
“Is it good?”
“Mm.”
Just one syllable.
But Shen Qingyou knew — when he said something was good, that one syllable said it all.
She lowered her head and kept eating her dumplings, the corners of her mouth lifted.
……
After the dumplings were finished, Yan Tingxu went to wash the dishes.
Shen Qingyou tried to take over, but one look from him made her back off.
She sat at the table, watching his back as he washed.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist, efficient movements. He’d taken off his coat and was wearing that dark gray sweater she’d knitted — the little flower at the collar faintly visible under the light.
Her heart softened.
When he finished, he dried his hands and turned around.
His eyes met hers.
“What are you looking at?”
Shen Qingyou blinked. “Watching Third Uncle do the dishes.”
Yan Tingxu paused, then walked over and sat down across from her.
“These past three years,” he said, “how have your studies been?”
Shen Qingyou was taken aback for a moment, then smiled.
“Pretty good,” she said. “I will graduate from normal school next year. My teacher says I can be assigned to an elementary school in the city.”
Yan Tingxu nodded.
“Do you have enough money?”
“Enough,” Shen Qingyou said. “You leave money every time you go. I can’t even spend it all.”
Yan Tingxu didn’t say anything.
After a moment of silence, Shen Qingyou suddenly spoke.
“Third Uncle.”
“Hm?”
“How long can you stay this time?”
Yan Tingxu looked at her.
The girl sitting across from him had glistening eyes, with a hint of cautious hope in them.
He paused.
“I’ll leave after the fifteenth.”
Shen Qingyou’s eyes lit up instantly.
“Really?”
“Mm.”
She smiled, her eyes curving into crescents.
Yan Tingxu looked away and stood up.
“Get some sleep early,” he said. “You have to wake up early tomorrow.”
Shen Qingyou nodded and stood up to clear the dishes.
Just as she reached the kitchen door, she suddenly turned back.
“Third Uncle.”
Yan Tingxu stopped walking.
“Happy New Year.”
She stood there in her apron, dishes still in her hands, smiling with her eyes curved into crescents.
Yan Tingxu looked at her, his gaze pausing for a moment.
“Happy New Year.”
With that, he pushed the door open and went out.
Shen Qingyou stood in the kitchen, listening to his footsteps fade as he entered the main room. Only then did she lower her head and continue washing the dishes.
As she washed, she suddenly smiled to herself.
……
New Year’s Day.
When Shen Qingyou woke up, the sky was already bright.
The first thing she did was sit up and look out the window.
The door to the main room was open.
Her heart settled at once.
She got dressed, pushed open the door, and a cold wind hit her face. Pulling her neck in, she walked toward the kitchen.
At the kitchen door, she stopped short.
Someone was inside.
Yan Tingxu stood in front of the stove, lighting the fire.
He wore that dark gray sweater. The flames from the stove flickered across his face, bright and dark by turns.
Shen Qingyou stood at the door, watching him.
Hearing the noise, he glanced back at her.
“You’re up?”
Shen Qingyou nodded and walked inside.
“Third Uncle, how come you—”
“Lighting the fire,” he said. “Aren’t you going to cook?”
Shen Qingyou paused for a moment, then smiled.
She walked over, tied on her apron, and began to knead the dough.
The kitchen was very quiet. The only sounds were the crackle of firewood in the stove and the sound of her kneading.
As she worked the dough, she occasionally looked up at him.
He sat by the stove, adding firewood. The firelight fell on his face, softening those cool, indifferent features.
She suddenly remembered back when she first came — he’d been like that too.
A man of few words. Never said anything, but did everything.
“Third Uncle,” she called out.
Yan Tingxu looked up.
“What is it?”
Shen Qingyou shook her head.
“Nothing,” she said. “I just felt like calling you.”
Yan Tingxu gave her a glance, didn’t say anything, and lowered his head to keep adding firewood.
Shen Qingyou’s eyes curved into a smile. She went back to kneading the dough.
……
When breakfast was ready, the two of them sat in the kitchen to eat.
Plain porridge, steamed buns, pickled vegetables, and two boiled eggs.
As she ate, Shen Qingyou suddenly remembered something.
“Third Uncle, it’s New Year’s Day today. Where should we go?”
Yan Tingxu looked at her.
“You want to go out?”
Shen Qingyou nodded.
“I want to go to the park,” she said. “I heard there’s an ice skating rink there.”
Yan Tingxu paused.
“You know how to skate now?”
Shen Qingyou froze for a second, then thought back to three years ago.
She’d just arrived, standing by the river, asking if she could skate on the ice. He’d said the river wasn’t safe — that he’d take her to the park once spring came.
Then spring came, the ice melted, and they never went skating.
After that, he got busy, she got busy, and it just never happened.
She thought he had forgotten.
“I don’t know how,” she admitted. “I never learned.”
Yan Tingxu glanced at her.
“We’ll go after breakfast.”
Shen Qingyou froze.
“Really?”
“Mm.”
After breakfast, Shen Qingyou went to her room to change.
She put on her maroon cotton-padded jacket, wrapped her red scarf around her neck, and pulled on her navy blue pants.
Standing in front of the mirror, she suddenly felt a little shy.
She had grown quite a bit over the years. The clothes were a bit short on her now, but still wearable.
She hesitated, then pulled out the new pair of pants from the cabinet—the ones Third Uncle had bought her, which she’d never been willing to wear.
Once she changed into them, she looked in the mirror again.
Much better.
She pushed the door open and went out. Yan Tingxu was already waiting in the courtyard.
He stood next to the Forever bicycle, wearing a navy blue coat, holding two pairs of ice skates in his hands.
When he saw her come out, he looked up, and his gaze rested on her for a moment.
Shen Qingyou felt a little nervous under his stare.
“Third Uncle? What is it?”
Yan Tingxu looked away.
“Nothing,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Shen Qingyou nodded, walked over, and sat on the back of the bicycle.
The bike left the alley, heading toward the park.
The wind was a bit cold, nipping at her face. She tucked her chin into her scarf.
After a while, Yan Tingxu spoke.
“Cold?”
Shen Qingyou shook her head. “Not cold.”
As she said it, she snuck a glance forward.
His back was to her. He sat straight as he pedaled.
She suddenly remembered her childhood, back when her father used to give her rides on his bicycle just like this. She’d sit on the back, gripping his clothes, and when the wind blew, she felt no fear at all.
Then her father was gone, and she never rode on the back of a bicycle again.
Until she met Third Uncle.
She buried her face into her scarf. It was so warm.
The park wasn’t far—twenty minutes by bike.
It was New Year’s Day, so there were quite a few people around. Families with children, groups of young friends strolling together, a few old men playing chess in the corner.
Yan Tingxu parked the bike at the entrance, locked it, and led Shen Qingyou inside.
The ice rink was at the very back of the park—a man-made lake that had frozen solid for the winter.
People were already skating on it. Some sped across the ice on blades, some moved slowly while gripping the railing, and a few kids sat on little sleds while others pushed them along.
Shen Qingyou stood at the edge, watching the skaters with wide eyes.
“Third Uncle, they’re really good.”
Yan Tingxu glanced at her.
“Want to learn?”
Shen Qingyou nodded vigorously.
Yan Tingxu crouched down and helped her strap the skates onto her shoes.
When he finished, he stood up and looked at her.
“Try standing up.”
Shen Qingyou gripped the railing and slowly rose to her feet.
The moment she straightened up, her feet slipped out from under her and she fell backward.
A hand caught her waist.
Yan Tingxu steadied her and looked down.
“Careful.”
Shen Qingyou’s face flushed slightly.
“Th-Thank you, Third Uncle.”
Yan Tingxu let go and stood beside her.
“Hold the railing. Take two slow steps.”
Shen Qingyou nodded, gripped the railing, and cautiously moved one step.
Okay.
Another step.
Still okay.
She breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at him.
He stood there, watching her, his face expressionless.
But Shen Qingyou felt like he was smiling.
Not that the corners of his mouth had curved — but there was a smile in his eyes.
……
After practicing for a while, Shen Qingyou could move slowly while holding the railing.
But she didn’t dare let go.
The moment she let go, she felt like she would fall.
Yan Tingxu stood beside her, watching.
“Try letting go.”
Shen Qingyou shook her head.
“I’m scared.”
Yan Tingxu didn’t say anything. He walked over and stood in front of her.
“Hold my hand.”
Shen Qingyou froze for a moment, looking at his outstretched hand.
His hands were large, fingers long and slender, the knuckles distinct.
She slowly let go of the railing and placed her hand in his.
His hand was warm. He held hers firmly.
“Glide forward,” he said.
Shen Qingyou took a deep breath and slowly slid her feet forward.
He skated backward in front of her, still holding her hand.
Watching his face, she suddenly felt much less afraid.
After a while, she grew a little bolder and skated a bit faster.
He kept pace with her.
A little longer, and she realized she could do it.
“Third Uncle, I can skate!”
She called out excitedly and looked up at him.
He stood there, watching her, and the corner of his mouth curved upward.
It was faint. Brief.
But she saw it.
……
After skating all morning, Shen Qingyou was tired.
The two of them sat on a bench at the edge of the rink to rest.
Shen Qingyou unbuckled her skates and rubbed her ankles.
Yan Tingxu glanced at her.
“Does it hurt?”
Shen Qingyou shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt. Just a little sore.”
Yan Tingxu didn’t say anything. He reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and handed it to her.
Shen Qingyou took it and froze.
It was a handkerchief, folded neatly.
She looked up at him.
He looked away, toward the rink.
“Wipe your sweat.”
Shen Qingyou lowered her head and looked at the handkerchief.
White, cotton, with a small flower embroidered on the edge.
She suddenly thought of that little flower on the sweater.
She buried her face into the handkerchief.
……
On the way back, Shen Qingyou sat on the back of the bicycle, gripping his coat.
The wind blew, cool against her skin.
But she wasn’t cold at all.
She secretly pressed her face against his back.
Third Uncle.
This is so nice.
…