When they got home that evening, the newly arrived Auntie Dong had just finished cooking. She greeted Pei Songxi, then crouched down and smiled at Yu Mian. “You must be Miss Yu?”
Yu Mian shook her head. “Just call me Mianmian!”
Pei Songxi gave a faint “mm” as well. “Her name is fine.”
Auntie Dong was kindly and warm. “All right, I’ll call you by your name then. Mianmian, write down what dishes you like, and I’ll make them for you tomorrow.”
“Wow! Thank you, Grandma!”
“No need to thank me, silly. Miss Pei, I’ll head home for today.”
“Mm. Thank you for your trouble. Wei Yi will discuss the pay with you.”
Pei Songxi was always cold toward outsiders, but Auntie Dong was very respectful toward her, shaking her head quickly. “After the money you lent our family, which we still haven’t repaid — how could I take your money? Don’t stand on ceremony! I’m in a hurry, so I’ll be off. You two eat.”
The door clicked shut.
Yu Mian blinked, smelled the fragrance drifting through the living room, and was over the moon. “I’m so happy!”
Pei Songxi took her hand and led her over. “How do you find happiness so easily, Mianmian?”
The little girl was already lost in the world of food, but still found time to answer. “Because I am happy!”
She truly was the most easily satisfied child in the whole world.
Happiness, it seemed, was contagious. Watching Yu Mian smile, the gloom in Pei Songxi’s own heart cleared away too, and she looked down with a smile.
After dinner, Pei Songxi went to the study to handle work while Yu Mian did homework.
In a break between tasks, Pei Songxi returned and quietly peeked at the little girl at the desk.
She wore cotton loungewear, a small stretch of pale calf showing, legs swinging gently under the table — yet her posture was perfectly upright, her grip on the pen exceptionally earnest, her small face solemn as could be.
She softly pulled the door closed. There were newly bought black beans in the fridge; she blended a cup of soy milk and brought it to her room. “Mianmian, finished your homework?”
Yu Mian didn’t even look up, young as she was wearing the air of someone above worldly affairs. “Mm. Almost.”
Pei Songxi stood waiting beside her. A few minutes later, Yu Mian closed her notebook, looked up, and beamed. “Done!”
Pei Songxi found it a little funny. “Was the homework hard?”
“Mm, not really.”
“Then why so serious about it?”
Yu Mian sipped her soy milk in small mouthfuls, dreaming all the while of her hair growing thick overnight, as she answered, “Because if you do homework seriously, you get good grades. Good grades mean good studying, and good studying gets you into university. After university you can earn money — and I’ll give it all to you, and buy you a big house to live in!”
Pei Songxi listened seriously to the whole long chain of logic, her smile tender. “All of it for me?”
Yu Mian tilted her head back and drained the soy milk. “Yep!”
Pei Songxi stroked the crown of her head. “How was school today? Anything unhappy happen?”
Yu Mian looked up and nuzzled into her palm. “Nope. I was very happy.”
Pei Songxi gave an “mm” and stood. “I’ll go back now. Finish your homework and sleep early.”
The side room had been renovated — pale pink wallpaper, powder-blue flooring, a fresh, lively palette overall. But Yu Mian looked at the big room, watched her walk out, and couldn’t help wrinkling her nose.
She wanted so badly to sleep with Auntie Pei. She didn’t want to sleep alone… but, but she was a big girl now; maybe she couldn’t cling to Auntie Pei like this anymore.
She finished her homework, rolled around on the bed a few times, and suddenly remembered something — she sprang off the bed and ran out.
Pei Songxi had just come out of the study. Her father had handed her two small companies to manage; everything was only just settling onto track, and there was plenty of work.
She returned to her room for documents and had barely sat down when she heard knocking. She went over and opened the door. “Mianmian?”
Yu Mian hugged a pillow, her cheek pressed into the soft surface. “Auntie Pei, I have a homework assignment I haven’t done — we have to do it with an elder.”
“Mm?”
“Teacher said we should go home and have one well-reasoned argument with our parents.”
“An argument? I don’t know how to argue.”
Yu Mian burrowed inward, hugging her pillow, eyes curving with glee. “See, see? This problem is so hard. Let me in so I can think.”
Pei Songxi saw straight through her little scheme. “…Mianmian.”
Yu Mian hugged the pillow, her eyes clean and bright. “Auntie Pei… just one night, okay?”
Pei Songxi nodded helplessly. “But I don’t know how to argue — least of all with you.”
Yu Mian, thoroughly satisfied, plopped the pillow onto the bed, kicked off her little shoes, and climbed up. “Then you scold me!”
Pei Songxi watched those little white feet kicking about on the bed and laughed, pulling the quilt over her. “Scold you for what? You’re so good.”
Yu Mian clung to her arm, refusing to let go. “Then you can scold me for… being a bald little nun?”
Pei Songxi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, ruffling her hair. “All children’s hair is fine and soft. How are you a bald little nun?”
Yu Mian: “No, no, Auntie Pei, you’re supposed to scold me like that, and then we can start arguing! Once you finish scolding me, then I can…”
Pei Songxi gazed at her, the light in her eyes clean and tender, her voice dropping a little lower. “Mm. And then you can call me what?”
Yu Mian froze completely. After a while she laughed. “I could never scold you. If you say I’m a little nun, then I’m a little nun.”
“Then what about your homework?”
“It’s fine! I’ll go tell my teacher that my Auntie Pei is the best person in the whole world, and I can’t possibly argue with her. The assignment is unreasonable.”
Pei Songxi smiled and stroked her cheek. “I’m not as wonderful as you say.”
Yu Mian turned her head, nuzzling her palm, as if begging for affection. “Yes you are, yes you are!”
At the sight of her acting spoiled, Pei Songxi’s cold heart quietly softened. Clearly no more work was getting done tonight — she might as well lie down and listen to the girl chatter about school.
Yu Mian was wide awake now, lying on her stomach, propped on her elbows, chatting away. “Auntie Pei, are you busy every day?”
“Not that busy. Just some things to handle at the company.”
“Are you the most powerful person there?”
“No.”
“Oh,” Yu Mian pouted, then suddenly pointed at her lashes. “There’s a tear mole here! They say people with those cry a lot.”
“Hm? How do you know that?”
“A classmate has one too. Little Yan told me.”
“I see,” Pei Songxi said with a faint smile. That little imp Xu Xiaoyan — no surprise she knew so much. “But I don’t cry much.”
Yu Mian gave an “mm” and smiled sweetly. “I don’t cry either!”
She was a child who loved to laugh, her feelings ardent and pure, and so good when she was quiet.
Lying on the pillow, leaning against her, she flicked a fingertip lightly across her long, thick lashes. “Wow… Auntie Pei, your lashes are so long, like butterfly wings.”
Pei Songxi still wasn’t quite used to such close contact — but the person pressed against her was a tiny little girl. She smiled helplessly. “Mm?”
“Then… do you know how many eyelashes you have?”
“No idea. Does Mianmian know?”
Yu Mian giggled. “I don’t know either! Let me count for you!”
Outside the window, a full moon hung high in the night sky, its light falling on the painting brought from the old house — mistless wind, mountain and sky one color, inscribed with the four characters: Pine Stream Under the Moon.
Inside the window was a little girl whose eyes outshone the stars, watching her with burning brightness.
Pei Songxi had no defense against her.
A quiet night, time flowing gently by.
And so, without quite realizing it, she indulged the girl’s childishness and innocence, a tenderness in her voice she herself had never noticed. “Mm. Count.”
