Chapter 12

That evening, dinner became a small problem of its own.

Wei Yi was still contacting housekeepers. Pei Songxi had always been averse to strangers, disliked loud voices, had a mild case of mysophobia, and refused to eat takeout — she was truly difficult to serve.

The fridge held only two bags of frozen Tangyuan. Pei Songxi hesitated. “Mianmian. Is tangyuan all right?”

Yu Mian peeked into the fridge — there was fresh meat and vegetables inside. “Okay… Auntie Pei, you can’t cook?”

Pei Songxi shook her head, a little embarrassed, the tips of her ears reddening.

Yu Mian blinked, feeling as though she’d discovered a small but significant secret… So Auntie Pei couldn’t cook either — just like she still couldn’t put on her own trousers.

Hey, that meant she wasn’t that dumb after all.

She giggled and shook the hem of her clothes, voice sweet. “I love tangyuan!”

Pei Songxi breathed a sigh of relief.

Since her mother died young, she had never grown close to anyone again — aloof and cold. This careful, faintly guilty feeling was one she hadn’t experienced in a very long time… because she hadn’t spoken to anyone like this in ages.

But Mianmian was, after all, just a small child.

The water in the pot soon came to a boil, gurgling loudly. Yu Mian stood on a little stool, urging her on. “Ah! The water’s boiling! Quick, put them in, put them in!”

Pei Songxi tipped the tangyuan in — for once in her life flustered, a rare touch of everyday human warmth.

When the tangyuan were cooked, the big one and the little one both stared at the pot, watching the plump tangyuan slowly bob to the surface.

“They’re done, they’re done! Take them out! Auntie Pei, hurry!”

Pei Songxi already had the ladle in hand; at the girl’s urging she nearly scooped the tangyuan right onto the floor, and couldn’t help laughing. “Why don’t you go wait outside? You’re just making a mess here.”

Yu Mian blinked, eyes curving as she looked at her.

Ah… Auntie Pei smiled. She so rarely, rarely saw her smile — and she’d never seen her smile this happily. She was so pretty!

Yu Mian covered her mouth, giggling, hopped off the stool, and ran out. “Then I’ll go sit at the table and wait for you!”

But she couldn’t sit still at all — not even a minute passed before she ran back to the kitchen. “Do you want me to carry something?”

Pei Songxi had just taken bowls and chopsticks from the cabinet. “No carrying for you. Take the sugar out, okay?”

“Mm!”

Yu Mian nodded hard, hugged the jar of sugar to her chest, and skipped out like a lively little fox.

Pei Songxi walked behind her, watching her back with a smile she couldn’t suppress.

She sat down across from Yu Mian and took a small porcelain dish. “Want sugar?”

This bag of tangyuan was pure glutinous rice, no sesame filling; though a little brown sugar had gone into the pot, the flavor was still rather plain.

Yu Mian ran over from across the table and sat down pressed close to her, thinking seriously. “Can I eat it?”

She was teething these days and couldn’t have much sugar.

“Just a little. Want to try?”

“Okay… just a little bit, okay?”

Pei Songxi poured a little sugar into the dish and handed her chopsticks. Yu Mian’s grip was still a bit off; she barely managed to pick up a tangyuan — her hand trembled, and it rolled a full circle in the sugar. When she lifted it, her little face was scrunched.

“Too much sugar!”

“Then don’t eat it.”

“No! Teacher said we can’t waste food.”

Yu Mian bit off a mouthful, eyes curving. “So sweet!”

Pei Songxi handed her a tissue, smiling too.

Between the two of them, the plate of tangyuan was soon polished off. It was still early, and Yu Mian couldn’t sit still; she tugged her hand. “Auntie Pei, let’s go up and look around, okay? Is there a balcony upstairs?”

Pei Songxi lifted her up. “Mm. Let’s go look.”

The air carried that crisp freshness unique to autumn; even the wind was cool and gentle.

The sky had only just darkened, like a clean curtain of ink-blue. Soon the moon climbed up bit by bit, threading through the clouds, past the treetops, spilling soft moonlight down.

Yu Mian hopped down from her arms and looked at the flowers and plants arranged on the balcony. Children were endlessly curious about everything; she reached out and touched a petal, lightly, then quickly drew her hand back.

When she turned around to call Pei Songxi downstairs, she found her looking up at the moon.

The moon’s cool halo fell over her, plating her with a faint chill.

Yu Mian had the feeling she might drift up into the clouds at any moment, become a fairy in the sky, and just fly away.

So she flung herself at her and hugged her. “Auntie Pei…”

Pei Songxi turned, stroking her head. The girl sat down obediently beside her, tilting her small face up, asking in her baby voice, “What are you looking at?”

“Tonight’s the sixteenth. Isn’t the moon very round?”

“It is very round. Do you like the moon?”

“Mm.”

“Ah… I remember Great-Grandma calls you Yueyue. Is that your name too?”

Pei Songxi stroked her head. “Mm. A pet name.”

“Can I call you that?”

“Do you want to?”

Yu Mian shook her head. “Better not.”

Auntie Pei was Auntie Pei — an elder, a grown-up. She had to be good.

The moon’s cool radiance fell, two figures big and small leaning together as the night deepened.

Pei Songxi picked Yu Mian up. “Time for bed, Mianmian.”

Yu Mian had been sleepy for a while already. Leaning on her shoulder, she gave a dazed “mm.” “Auntie Pei… am I dreaming?”

“Hm?”

“I dream every night… that you come to take me home.”

Pei Songxi’s steps faltered. The trust and hope this child placed in her, wholehearted and complete, was heavier than she could imagine — going to see her, bringing her home, had been nothing more than a single thought.

What if she hadn’t gone?

She couldn’t understand Yu Mian’s instinctive attachment to her, just as she couldn’t explain why she had brought her home. She couldn’t even give herself a reason — and yet she had done it, with no intention of turning back.

The bedroom door pushed open. She set Yu Mian on the bed. “Mianmian, bath first, then sleep.”

Yu Mian perked up a little. “Okay! I learned to bathe myself!”

Pei Songxi truly didn’t know how to handle a child. “Mm… can you take your clothes off yourself? Do you need… help?”

“No need!”

Yu Mian laughed and covered her eyes with her hands. “Mianmian is a big girl now — having Auntie Pei take off my clothes would be so embarrassing!”

Pei Songxi stroked her hair. She really was still such a tiny thing.

“Then go in by yourself. Call me if you need anything.”

“Mm!”

Pei Songxi carried her clothes into the bathroom and adjusted the shower to just the right temperature, looking at those pale little feet. “Sure you don’t need help?”

“No need!”

Yu Mian stood up to push her out and nearly fell; Pei Songxi caught her in one arm, noticing her trouser legs had grown longer again. “Did Auntie Ding buy these?”

“Mm…”

“Throw them out. Wear the clothes I bought you last time.”

Yu Mian smiled sweetly. “Okay!”

The little girl bathed in the bathroom, the sound of water pattering, and before long she started singing, her baby voice surprisingly carrying: “I have a little donkey, I never ride it…”

When she came out after her bath, Pei Songxi was drinking water with her back to her. “All done bathing, little donkey?”

“Auntie Pei!”

Yu Mian let out a whoop and flung herself at her, climbing up her legs, a sweet-smelling, soft little bundle. Pei Songxi hurriedly steadied her. “I haven’t bathed yet.”

“What’s this?”

Yu Mian pointed at the small white bottle on the table. “Are you taking medicine?”

Pei Songxi paused, her expression mild and faintly cool. “Mm. It helps me sleep.”

With that she put the Medicine Bottle into the small drawer and locked it in passing, unwilling to say more.

Yu Mian stared blankly, then suddenly said, “I’ll be very good.”

Medicine was bitter. If she was good, Auntie Pei would be a little happier.

Pei Songxi didn’t understand why she said it again, but her expression softened. “You don’t have to be so good. Mianmian. Just be happy.”

Yu Mian looked into her eyes and asked, very seriously, “Then are you happy?”

Pei Songxi answered honestly. “No.”

Yu Mian tilted her head up to look at her, then suddenly broke into a bright, radiant smile. “Then I’ll be extra happy! I’ll have double happiness and give you half!”

Pei Songxi gazed into those clear, childish eyes, momentarily stunned.

Like a sinking stone catching sight, in a daze, of a piece of driftwood.

She slowly lowered her lashes, thick and long, hiding the heavy weight of her thoughts, and gathered Yu Mian into her arms, her voice soft as a sigh. “All right.”