Chapter 7

When Pei Songxi found Yu Mian, the girl was standing at the roadside outside the school, a Red Armband Auntie beside her, along with a police officer in uniform.

She pulled over by the curb and rolled down the window, catching the child mid-conversation with the officer: “My name is Yu Mian. Yu as in ‘lush and green,’ mian as in ‘rolling on and on.’ After school, everyone walked forward, so I walked forward too. When I got outside the school, the car… the car just drove away. So I walked a little farther, and then I got lost.”

The Red Armband Auntie was very kind. She had just finished her street inspection when the little girl had called out to her from behind and asked if she could help. She’d agreed on the spot, but having no idea whose child this was, she’d simply called the community police.

The officer crouched down to her level. “Do you know where you live?”

Yu Mian looked up, bewildered. “My home… I don’t know.”

The Red Armband Auntie was indignant. “Your parents have no safety sense at all! You’ve started school, haven’t you? How can you not even know your home address? Do you know a phone number? Can you call your family?”

Yu Mian said blankly, “I don’t know…”

Now even the officer was at a loss. “Are you in school? Is it the primary school just ahead? What’s your teacher’s name?”

Yu Mian lowered her head, blushing. “Today’s my first day… I’m sorry, Officer.”

Like a dandelion adrift in the wind — young, soft, scattered at the first gust.

“Mianmian.”

Yu Mian startled, looked around, and saw a car stopped by the roadside, Pei Songxi walking toward her.

She blinked, then ran over, startled and overjoyed, throwing her arms around her leg. “Auntie Pei!”

Pei Songxi bent down, lowering her voice. “Be good — let go first.”

Yu Mian thought she had upset her and released her, dazed — only to feel the woman’s right arm sweep around her shoulders and lift her up. “I came too late.”

“Ah… you’re not late at all.”

As long as you came, that’s all that matters.

The Red Armband Auntie couldn’t help lecturing: “You’re the child’s guardian? Your awareness is really lacking, letting such a small child walk home after school with no one to pick her up.”

The officer nodded too. “She doesn’t even know her home address or phone number. There are a lot of bad people out there these days — you parents really need to be more careful, more vigilant.”

Pei Songxi lowered her eyes and inclined her head slightly. “Thank you both. I understand.”

The child peeked out from her shoulder and waved at them sweetly, her smile bright. “Thank you, Officer! Thank you, Auntie!”

Pei Songxi carried her to the car and set her in the back seat. “Take a nap.”

Yu Mian shook her head. “I’m not sleepy, Auntie Pei.”

“Mm… Were you scared just now?”

“Not scared…” Yu Mian sniffled. “Maybe a little scared. But I knew that if you get lost, you find a police officer, so I wasn’t too scared.”

Pei Songxi’s voice was low. “You’re very clever. Mianmian.”

If she hadn’t been so clever — if she had dashed through a busy intersection, been coaxed away by a stranger, been hit by a car…

Pei Songxi refused to think further.

When the car stopped, she glanced back — Yu Mian had fallen asleep in the back seat.

She opened the door and lifted her out. The child murmured in her sleep, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. “Auntie Pei.”

Pei Songxi stroked her back. “I’m here.”

Pei Zhiyuan was waiting in the living room. The moment he heard the front door open, he sprang off the sofa and ran out without his shoes. “Auntie!”

Seeing Yu Mian in Pei Songxi’s arms, he burst into fresh tears. “Is she okay?”

Pei Songxi touched his cheek. “It’s fine. Go wipe your tears. No more crying.”

Pei Zhiyuan nodded, eyes brimming. “Auntie, you’re not mad at me anymore?”

Pei Songxi felt a faint, helpless fondness. “Mm. Go on in.”

A child that small — she didn’t know how to blame him.

She carried Yu Mian into the living room. Pei Linmao saw the tear tracks on his son’s face and frowned slightly. “Children don’t know any better. Why scold him?”

Pei Songxi’s expression stayed cold, as if she hadn’t heard a word, and she crossed the living room and went upstairs.

The moment she laid Yu Mian on the bed, the child woke, blinking sleepily. “Auntie Pei, where are we?”

“My room.”

“Huh?”

Pei Songxi set her little schoolbag beside her. “You’re sleeping here tonight.”

Yu Mian’s eyes went bright. “Really? Can I sleep with you? Really?!”

Seeing her overjoyed, Pei Songxi’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Really.”

Yu Mian was so happy she wanted to roll around on the bed, but she didn’t quite dare cut loose; her eyes curved into little crescent moons. “I’m so happy!”

She didn’t know why Auntie Pei was being so kind to her. But it really did feel so wonderful!

She truly was a child easily satisfied.

Just then, Yu Mian’s stomach growled twice.

Embarrassed, she covered her belly. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Pei Songxi said nothing. She picked up the bedside phone and had a servant bring food up.

Only half of the blue curtains were drawn in the room, the pale daylight hovering between dim and bright. Her expression held a kind of cool tenderness, an aloof, timeless beauty.

Once awake, Yu Mian didn’t dare stay on her bed any longer. She put on her little shoes and sat at the edge. “Auntie Pei…”

“Mm?”

“…Can I know your phone number?”

Pei Songxi fell silent, looking at her without a word.

Yu Mian lowered her head, dejected, and said in the smallest of voices, “I’m scared that someday I’ll get lost again and no one will be able to find me.”

Pei Songxi nodded after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll write it down and put it in your pencil case.”

“Really?! Auntie Pei, you’re the best!”

She was a child of ardent, direct emotion. Even with a delicate, sensitive heart, she loved to smile and was so easily satisfied — she looked as if she might pounce over and kiss her, her clean, clear eyes curved into crescents.

Soon the servant brought in a tray — dishes the kitchen had made specially: tomato and scrambled eggs, shrimp and egg-drop soup, stir-fried choy sum.

Yu Mian sat on the chair swinging her legs and handed the chopsticks to Pei Songxi. “Auntie Pei, let’s eat together, okay?”

“Mm. All right.”

Pei Songxi had little appetite. She served Yu Mian dish after dish, and whatever she served, Yu Mian ate.

The child ate with real relish, sometimes biting her spoon while watching her with shining eyes; catching her gaze, she’d duck her head and take a big, happy mouthful of rice.

In the end, the food was polished off completely.

Yu Mian was so happy she could have bubbled over, but she didn’t dare laugh out loud, so she just held it in.

After the meal, Pei Songxi had work to handle.

Yu Mian was very quiet. She ran back to her own room for a fairy-tale book, then came back and sat at the edge of the bed, reading with utter seriousness.

In a pause between tasks, Pei Songxi looked back at her.

She was a happy child.

Who knew what she was reading — she was laughing so hard, then fighting to hold it in the moment she noticed Pei Songxi watching, as if afraid to be caught smiling.

Pei Songxi turned away, pretending not to look anymore. But there was a mirror on the desk — and so, in the mirror, she secretly watched her instead.

Yu Mian, gazing at her back, covered her mouth and giggled.

A gentle breeze, a bright moon, a fine night.

The heat of late summer had dissipated, leaving only a faint coolness.

When the lights went out, Yu Mian nervously edged closer to her.

The dark seemed full of nameless monsters; all these days, she had never slept without the light on.

Sensing her tension, Pei Songxi’s palm came down slowly, stroking the back of her head, then gliding down the back of her neck to soothe her spine, her voice mellow. “Sleep, Mianmian.”

Yu Mian gave a soft “mm,” and in the darkness couldn’t help smiling again.

She was so happy! If only she could stay by her side forever!

The tension and anxiety were smoothed away.

Nestled against her, Yu Mian’s breathing gradually slowed and lengthened. She was asleep.

The child’s body curled into a little shrimp, instinctively pressing close against her arm, trying to burrow her cheek in too, so very close.

A child’s breathing, long and soft.

A whole night of sweet sleep.