She’d pester Yun Yueqin for it every few days, but Yun Yueqin always said too many sugary drinks weren’t good for you and rarely bought any. When she did splurge on a single bottle, Yun Chun would sip it in tiny amounts over three days, until all the fizz was gone and only flat lemon sweetness remained. That lingering flavor was something she savored endlessly.
But it had been years since Yun Chun last had any.
She’d all but forgotten what that lemony sweetness tasted like.
Yun Chun gave a faint smile. “Plain water’s fine.”
Yun Yueqin asked, “Don’t like it anymore?”
Yun Chun replied, “I still do. But didn’t you say it’s not good for you? I’ve remembered that.”
Yun Yueqin’s brows knit together. She fell silent for two seconds before saying, “Alright, then. Mom will go make lunch.”
Yun Chun murmured her assent.
As Yun Yueqin headed to the kitchen, Yun Chun started to follow, but she paused when Xu Lanmeng approached. “If you’re hungry, why make my mom cook for you?”
Xu Lanmeng glanced at her. “Your mom’s cooking is delicious.”
That much was true.
But it didn’t answer Yun Chun’s question.
From Xu Lanmeng’s tone, this clearly wasn’t the first time she’d had Yun Yueqin cook for her. The idea of bossing around a ghost like that made Yun Chun suspect some kind of threat.
She pressed, “But what gives you the right to have my mom wait on you?”
Xu Lanmeng looked puzzled. “Wait on me?”
After a beat, realization dawned, and she let out a wry chuckle. “Is that what you think this is?”
Yun Chun shot back, “Isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not.” Yun Yueqin walked over, a soft smile on her lips. “I get bored just sitting around. I offered to cook for A-Lan myself.”
She explained gently to Yun Chun, “Besides, A-Lan’s cooking is terrible—she won’t even eat what she makes herself. She eats out every day at restaurants. Sure, the food there tastes good, but it’s so oily. She loves meat, always orders meat dishes loaded with even more salt and fat. Can her body handle that forever? When she gets older, it’ll be high cholesterol, high blood pressure—problems everywhere.”
By the end, Yun Yueqin’s gaze had shifted from Yun Chun to Xu Lanmeng. The latter seemed utterly accustomed to the scolding; as Yun Yueqin lectured, Xu Lanmeng simply sipped her tea and tuned it out.
Seeing this, Yun Yueqin approached and set the bag of string beans in front of Xu Lanmeng. “And didn’t I tell you not to buy the old, tough ones? They take forever to stew and don’t even taste good.”
Yun Chun loved string beans stewed with potatoes and ribs. Knowing she’d see Yun Chun, Yun Yueqin had specially sent Xu Lanmeng out to buy string beans and other favorites.
Xu Lanmeng glanced at the beans, then up at Yun Yueqin. “I don’t like string beans. How would I know which ones are good?”
“I told you when you went shopping—get the thin ones, the tender ones.”
Xu Lanmeng pulled one from her pocket. “This one’s thinner than your finger, so I figured it was tender.”
She eyed Yun Yueqin’s hand. “Your fingers are about the same thickness, and they’re plenty tender. So why’s this one old?”
Xu Lanmeng was clearly making excuses to dodge the mistake. Yun Yueqin knew it but couldn’t bring herself to argue.
She took the bean, raised it playfully, and tapped it against Xu Lanmeng’s head. Xu Lanmeng didn’t flinch—she knew Yun Yueqin wouldn’t really hit her. Sure enough, Yun Yueqin pulled back just before contact, tossed the bean back in the bag, and chuckled softly. “Go ahead and string them.”
Xu Lanmeng nodded. “Got it.”
Before starting, she asked, “How long should I trim them?”
Yun Yueqin replied, “About as long as your index finger.”
Xu Lanmeng asked, “Why not my thumb?”
“Your thumb’s shorter. They need to be a bit longer.”
Xu Lanmeng looked up at her, lips curving into a grin. “Sounds like you know my fingers better than I do.”
Yun Yueqin’s smile faltered for a moment, then she said coolly, “I can see them just by looking down. No need to ‘know’ them.”
Xu Lanmeng agreed, “Fair enough.” She was tempted to add that you couldn’t tell how tender fingers were just by looking—but with Yun Chun standing right behind Yun Yueqin, she swallowed the quip.
She’d forgotten they had company.
Yun Chun watched the entire exchange between Xu Lanmeng and Yun Yueqin, her confusion mounting.
Something was definitely off. Really off.
Once Yun Yueqin headed into the kitchen this time, Yun Chun followed.
Yun Chun knew her way around the kitchen; as a child, she’d often helped Yun Yueqin with prep work. She washed her hands and deftly began assisting, chopping vegetables with practiced ease.
As she sliced, Yun Chun sighed inwardly at how long it had been since they’d shared a scene like this. Then she asked, “Mom, how do you know Master Xu…?”
“Mm, we’ve known each other since we were kids,” Yun Yueqin said. “A-Lan and I are from the same village.”
“Huh?” Yun Chun blinked in surprise. “You never mentioned that before.”
“I did tell you—maybe you forgot.”
“Then why do you call her A-Lan?”
“Her full name’s Xu Lanmeng. I used to call her A-Meng, but she didn’t like it. In our local accent, it sounded too much like ‘A-Niang’… so I switched to A-Lan.”
Speaking of their childhood brought a nostalgic glint to Yun Yueqin’s eyes. She added wistfully, “She’s two years younger than me—a little sister, really.”
Yun Chun fell silent.
“…”
She couldn’t see it at all.
Compared to Yun Yueqin before her cancer diagnosis, that first glimpse of Xu Lanmeng had made her seem several years older. And now this?
Yun Chun kept her head down and focused on chopping, letting the moment pass without further questions.
It still felt strange, but strangeness could wait. Right now, she cherished this alone time with Yun Yueqin. The questions could come later.
At the table, Yun Yueqin sat beside Yun Chun, constantly piling food onto her plate.
Every time Yun Chun finished a bite, Yun Yueqin added more. At first, Yun Chun was too lost in the familiar flavors of memory to protest. But soon, her bowl wasn’t emptying—it was piling higher.
Yun Chun swallowed her food and said softly, “Mom, you don’t need to keep serving me. I’m full.”
“Satiety from so little?”
“It’s plenty—more than usual. I had an extra bowl of rice.”
Yun Yueqin’s eyes filled with heartache. “No wonder you’re so thin. You must not eat properly most days.”
She really was skinny—holding her felt bony.
Yun Chun smiled. “It’s my constitution. I don’t gain weight no matter how much I eat.”
Yun Yueqin relaxed a fraction.
Her gaze drifted to Xu Lanmeng across the table. “A-Lan used to be skinny too. She hasn’t gained much, but at least her face has some fullness now.”
Yun Chun thought, True enough. Xu Lanmeng’s shift from gaunt to rosy-cheeked was clearly thanks to her mom…
She chimed in, “Didn’t you say Master Xu loves meat? How’d she stay so thin before?”
Xu Lanmeng, gnawing on a rib, replied, “Restaurant food doesn’t compare to your mom’s.”
The real reason, though, was Yun Yueqin herself.
Her heartache had finally healed.
Yun Yueqin smiled warmly and placed the last rib in Xu Lanmeng’s bowl. “That’s the final one—no more. After you eat, take out the kitchen trash. Get some movement to help digestion.”
Xu Lanmeng hummed in agreement, though she muttered, “Do you have to assign me chores?”
“Of course—once your checkup shows normal levels, you can do whatever you want.”
With that, Yun Yueqin turned to Yun Chun. “Little Treasure, have you had a physical this year? Any health issues?”
Before Yun Chun could answer, Xu Lanmeng spoke up. “Your mom never got checked, didn’t know about the cancer until it was too late. She’s asking because she wants you to get examined too—see if anything’s hiding.”
Yun Yueqin had nagged her into going for a full checkup.
No major problems, but Yun Yueqin fussed endlessly over the minor ones.
Yun Chun felt a pang in her chest. After a pause, she forced a small smile and said lightly, “Mom… I’m fine. The shop does annual employee physicals for us. My results were clean.”
“That’s good.” Yun Yueqin placed her hand on Yun Chun’s leg and gave it a gentle pat. “With Mom not by your side, you have to take good care of yourself. If your body feels off in any way, go to the hospital right away for a checkup, okay?”
“…Mm.”
“If work gets too busy, just quit and find something easier. It doesn’t matter how much you make—don’t wear yourself out.”
A surge of inexplicable emotions welled up in Yun Chun’s heart. All these years, she’d worked herself to the bone to make money, trying to fill the void inside her. And now her mother was telling her that money didn’t matter…
How could money not matter?
If there had been money back then, you wouldn’t have chosen to end your own life.
That was what Yun Chun thought, but she would never say it aloud. She knew her mother was concerned about her health.
Lowering her eyes, Yun Chun murmured, “…Okay.”
~~~
After dinner, Yun Chun took the initiative to clear the table while Xu Lanmeng carried the kitchen trash downstairs to toss it out.
Twenty minutes later, Xu Lanmeng looked at the person lying on Yun Yueqin’s lap on the sofa and asked, “Aren’t you heading back?”
Her question drew the attention of both the person and the ghost on the sofa.
“Back where?” Yun Yueqin asked.
“Back where?” Yun Chun echoed.
Xu Lanmeng frowned. “Back to your own home. Or do you plan to camp out at my place indefinitely?”
“Then I’ll go back with Little Yun,” Yun Yueqin said.
The words “Sure thing” were on the tip of Yun Chun’s tongue, but Xu Lanmeng’s earlier remark made her swallow them. She paused for a moment before saying, “No need, Mom. We’ll stay at Auntie Xu’s.”
Xu Lanmeng’s frown deepened. “Who are you calling Auntie?”
Yun Chun swung her dangling leg and flashed a roguish grin. “You grew up in the same village as my mom, didn’t you? Childhood friends and all—calling you Auntie is no big deal, right?”
“No big deal,” Yun Yueqin answered on Xu Lanmeng’s behalf.
She then turned to Xu Lanmeng. “A Lan, Little Yun and I haven’t seen each other in ages. Could we chat a little longer?”
Xu Lanmeng glanced at Yun Chun, then at Yun Yueqin.
What could she say when Yun Yueqin put it like that?
In the end, she could only nod. “…Fine.”
Yun Yueqin’s smile bloomed. “Thanks, A Lan.”
Xu Lanmeng’s heart tightened at the sight of that smile—like the pure glow of moonlight. Suddenly, the stumbles and setbacks of the past twenty-odd years didn’t seem to matter anymore.
The unfamiliar sensation in her chest left Xu Lanmeng flustered. She turned away abruptly, muttering, “I’m off to bed,” before retreating into her bedroom.
They had talked about chatting a little longer, but the autumn sunlight was so pleasantly warm, and Yun Chun had never felt more at ease in body and soul. Lying on her mother’s lap, she soon drifted off to sleep just like she had as a child, clutching Yun Yueqin’s arm contentedly.
Yun Yueqin’s fingers brushed through Yun Chun’s hair as she smiled down at her sleeping daughter.
The tender scene was witnessed by a figure lurking in the corner. The shadow flickered once and then vanished, its presence undetected by anyone.
That day, Yun Chun called in sick and skipped work, staying glued to Yun Yueqin’s side. That night, despite Xu Lanmeng’s protests, they ended up staying at Xu Lanmeng’s house.
The next day at three in the morning—Yun Chun’s usual time to get off work and head home—she lay sleeping soundly beside Yun Yueqin.
Meanwhile, in another house in the Old City District,
Lu Qingxue sat in a chair positioned for a clear view of the front door, waiting quietly.
