The customer flow at Hundred Herbs Garden in the afternoon was quite consistent. From two to four o’clock, there were the fewest people, so she usually took this time to shelve the newly acquired secondhand books. Teacher Zhou dozed off in the rattan chair, the electric fan swayed its head as it blew, and occasionally neighbors would come in to borrow the restroom, flipping through a few pages of magazines while they were at it.
That afternoon, she was squatting in front of the lowest row of bookshelves in the literature section, restocking books, when the wind chime at the door jingled.
“Welcome,” she stood up and turned around.
Standing at the door was a tall, slender boy wearing Sanzhong High School uniform pants paired with a plain white T-shirt, holding a cup of milk tea in his hand. The moment he saw her clearly, his expression shifted from recognition to nervousness, the transition not entirely smooth.
“It really is you,” Ye Chao said. “I just passed by, saw someone who looked like you through the window, but was afraid I might be mistaken.”
Jiang Lai stuffed the book in her hand back onto the shelf. “What are you doing around here?”
“I went to the electronics mall up ahead to help my cousin look at computers.”
Ye Chao. A classmate from their first year of high school, sitting two rows in front of her, the math class representative. He spoke at a slightly slower pace, the type where when the teacher called on him to answer a question, the whole class would have to wait quietly for three seconds. Jiang Lai didn’t have much interaction with him.
“Thanks,” she took the milk tea and walked toward the cash register. “Want to sit for a bit? There’s no one in the shop right now. The boss is watering flowers in the backyard, so you can look around freely.”
Ye Chao stood at the door for a moment before walking over to sit in the chair opposite the cash register. He looked around, his gaze sliding from the old ceiling fan to the row of hardcover books by the wall, finally settling back on her.
“I heard you’re transferring schools?”
“Yeah, Mingde High School.”
Ye Chao’s eyes widened slightly. “The private Mingde? Isn’t that a school for the rich?”
“I’m just in the regular class.”
He didn’t press further about why she had the money to transfer schools but instead changed direction. “Um, are you free tomorrow afternoon?”
Jiang Lai looked up at him.
“Just,” he scratched the back of his head, “wanted to treat you to milk tea. You didn’t come out much at school before, and I haven’t seen you say anything in the group chat over the summer. After you transfer, I probably won’t see you at all.”
“Sure. I finish work at four tomorrow afternoon.”
The milk tea shop was on the street near the school, about a ten-minute walk from Hundred Herbs Garden. When Jiang Lai arrived, Ye Chao was already sitting inside, two cups of milk tea on the table—one original flavor and one strawberry. Not knowing which flavor she preferred, he had simply ordered both.
Jiang Lai sat down opposite him and took the original flavor cup. “You already ordered for yourself? Thanks.”
Ye Chao relaxed a bit. “Did everything go smoothly with your registration at the new school?”
“Smoothly,” Jiang Lai replied, though she wasn’t entirely sure why a not-so-close classmate had asked her out.
“That’s good. Mingde is quite different from our school. You’ll probably do even better there.”
He asked a few more questions—whether the bookstore job was tiring, if she had finished her summer homework. Jiang Lai answered each one, keeping the atmosphere in the casual chat zone between friends.
After about twenty minutes of conversation, Ye Chao’s speech began to slow down. Stirring the pearls in his milk tea, his eyes drifted between the tabletop and her face for a moment.
“Jiang Lai, there’s something I want to tell you.”
Jiang Lai set down her cup.
“I know you’re transferring schools, and if I don’t say it now, I might never get another chance.” He took a deep breath, speaking a bit faster than before, as if he had rehearsed these words in advance. “I noticed you right from the start of freshman year. You’re smart, beautiful, and have such a great personality. Talking to you always feels so comfortable. I… I really like you.”
He stopped speaking, the tips of his ears slightly flushed, but his eyes remained fixed on her without looking away.
Jiang Lai fell silent for a moment.
Being liked by someone, whether you accept it or not, is still a sincere gesture.
“Thank you, Ye Chao,” she said, her tone a little softer than usual. “You’re a really great person too. I know you might not mean anything more by it, but I just want to say that I’m not planning to consider these things during high school. Besides, I’m transferring schools, and there are some family matters to deal with.”
Ye Chao nodded, his expression caught between disappointment and relief. He picked up the strawberry-flavored milk tea and took a sip, seemingly thinking about what to say next.
“About your family… I heard,” he lowered his voice, choosing his words carefully. “Are you… doing okay?”
Jiang Lai’s phone vibrated once in her pocket.
[Keyword detected, triggering Compensation. WeChat transfer received: 5,000 yuan.]
“I’m managing,” she said. “Life goes on, after all.”
Ye Chao nodded firmly. “You have such a good attitude. I definitely couldn’t handle it as well as you.”
After chatting for another ten minutes or so, Jiang Lai glanced at the time and said she needed to go home to cook for her mom. Ye Chao insisted on paying the bill and said goodbye to her at the entrance of the milk tea shop.
She walked back along the street. The summer evening sky was still bright, and the plane trees lining the road cast dappled shadows. Halfway down the street, she pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the transfer record.
There was a market up ahead. She went in, browsed for a while, and finally bought a freshly roasted chicken, asking the vendor to chop it up and wrap it in foil. She also bought half a kilogram of boiled peanuts.
Carrying the chicken and peanuts on her way back, she was in a good mood and sent a message to Jiang Shan: “Mom, we’re having something special for dinner tonight.”
Lately, using her bookstore salary as an excuse and the convenience of passing by the market every day, she had been buying expensive foods like fish and seafood—things their family didn’t usually eat—every few days. While she wasn’t exactly living like a rich girl, she and her mom were now eating and dressing at a level comparable to a middle-class family, though her mom hadn’t noticed yet.
The next day, Zhang Yue came to see her.
Zhang Yue had visited several times over the summer and had become a regular at Baicaoyuan Bookstore. Each time, he brought her a cup of milk tea or iced water.
She sat in the rattan chair by the entrance, the air conditioning blasting, condensation forming on the outside of the milk tea cup.
“You’re taking this summer job way too seriously,” Zhang Yue said. “Out of the three times I messaged you, twice you said you were at the store.”
“I need to save money,” Jiang Lai replied naturally.
Zhang Yue fell silent for a moment, looking up at her.
Jiang Lai knew what that expression meant—Zhang Yue was thinking about her family situation.
Zhang Yue chose his words carefully. “At least your dad left you something before he passed.”
[Keyword detected, triggering Compensation. WeChat transfer received: 3,000 yuan.]
Her phone vibrated softly in her pocket.
Jiang Lai pushed the last old book onto the shelf. “Yeah, but I can’t just live off that forever. Once school starts and I’m living on campus, I’ll need to have my own living expenses ready.”
In late August, Jiang Lai informed Teacher Zhou in advance that she would work at the bookstore until three days before the start of the school year.
On the last day of work, Teacher Zhou wasn’t dozing in the rattan chair. He brewed two cups of tea and handed one to her.
“You, child,” Teacher Zhou said, holding a porcelain enamel teacup as he settled into the rattan chair, “have organized the shop better than I ever did over the summer.”
Jiang Lai took the tea and sat on the low stool beside him. “I’m glad I could help.”
Teacher Zhou took a sip of tea. “You’re in your second year of high school now, so your studies are important. If you want to come on weekends, feel free anytime.”
He paused, then asked, “Do you live nearby?”
It was the first time he had asked about her personal circumstances. Jiang Lai held the teacup, her fingers slowly tracing the rim of the porcelain enamel cup.
This was exactly what she had been waiting for.
“I live in that old neighborhood up ahead, just my mom and me,” she said, looking down at the tea in her cup. “Our family situation is a bit unusual. My dad ran off a while ago, left with someone else. My mom’s salary isn’t high, so that’s why I took this job.”
Teacher Zhou fell silent for a moment, then set down his teacup.
“It’s not easy,” he said, his tone calm and measured, much like when he taught. “But I can see you’re a child who handles things methodically and can keep things to yourself. At your age, that’s rare.”
[Keyword detected, Compensation triggered. WeChat payment received: 3,000 yuan.]
He picked up his teacup and took another sip, then seemed to remember something. “You wrote on the registration form before that you enjoy writing in your free time?”
Jiang Lai nodded. “Occasionally, nothing serious.”
“Would you like to give it a try?” Teacher Zhou said. “I have an old friend who works as an editor at Youth Literature. They often accept submissions from students—essays or short stories. If you’re interested, write something and give it a shot. The pay isn’t much, fifty yuan per thousand characters, but it’s a legitimate place to get published.”
Jiang Lai’s hand, holding the teacup, stilled for a moment.
“You’d recommend me?”
“Write something and let me take a look first. I’ll help you submit it.”