Chapter 21 Part 1

Fang Zhi wasn’t much good at blow-drying hair. Holding the dryer too long made her arm ache, and it slipped from her hand, bonking Chen Nian on the head three times.

Chen Nian didn’t make a peep. When Fang Zhi apologized, she just grinned and said, “No problem, no problem.”

Her hair was coarse and stubborn; if it wasn’t dried right, it poofed up like a bomb had gone off. Fang Zhi stared at the frizzy mess, her brows knitted in a deep frown.

Chen Nian grabbed a hair tie and bundled it all up in a ponytail. “Mom’s gonna braid it for me tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Fang Zhi said.

Chen Nian scooted closer. “Tomorrow afternoon, let’s go dig up some little flowers at the Welfare Institute.”

“Mm-hmm!” Fang Zhi agreed brightly.

True to her word, Chen Nian got up early the next morning and sat still in front of the mirror, letting her mom weave a whole headful of tiny braids.

Her family had scraps of fabric everywhere, and Mom loved turning them into colorful clips and headbands. Now they fluttered all over Chen Nian’s head like a garden in bloom.

Fang Zhi clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled. Chen Nian snatched the brightest clip for payback and stuck it in Fang Zhi’s hair—but somehow, it looked perfect on her.

“Sigh…” Chen Nian let out a long breath, her heart full of inexplicable joy.

That afternoon, Mom had errands and headed out. Chen Nian led Fang Zhi on their planned adventure: first a bus to the nearby Flower Market for pots and a trowel. Then two more buses back to the Welfare Institute.

The moment they stepped off, Fang Zhi froze in place, her eyes locked on the gates. She didn’t budge an inch.

Chen Nian studied her face and offered, “Want me to go alone? We don’t need both of us. You can wait right here.”

Fang Zhi blinked and tilted her head. “You sure you can handle it?”

Chen Nian puffed up proudly. “Little sis has this. Why bring out the ox-cleaver to slaughter a chicken?”

Fang Zhi: “???”

Fang Zhi: “You called me a cow.”

Chen Nian cracked up. “Let’s go home and drill the idiom dictionary together.”

Memorizing came easy to Fang Zhi. Her memory was sharp as a tack—once she got something, a few reads and it was locked in.

She nodded, then watched Chen Nian’s slight frame lugging the heavy bag of pots. She darted over and grabbed her hand.

“We don’t need this many,” Fang Zhi said. “No room at home.”

“Huh?” Chen Nian blinked.

Fang Zhi opened the bag and pulled out pots until only four remained. “Four’s plenty.”

They’d planted far more than that. The row hugging the wall in the Vegetable Garden was packed solid, courtesy of Chen Nian.

They hadn’t checked in days, so she had no idea how the seedlings were faring. Playing it safe, she’d bought just enough pots.

Cheap plastic ones—lightweight and inexpensive.

But once filled with dirt, they’d be a beast to carry with their small builds. Chen Nian wondered if Fang Zhi had remembered that and balked at the weight, or if something else was holding her back.

“We could line ’em up along the balcony,” she suggested. “Or plant downstairs if needed.”

Fang Zhi’s gaze drifted, lost in thought for a few seconds. In the end, she shook her head. “No need for so many.”

“Got it.” Chen Nian always went along with her on stuff like this. “I’ll pick the heartiest ones to take home, then.”

“Mm,” Fang Zhi murmured.

Chen Nian hefted the bag and trudged toward the Welfare Institute. Teachers and kids recognized her right away, calling out greetings all the way to the backyard.

She crouched by the wall. Nearly every seedling had sprouted tender new buds—plump shoots brimming with life, poised to explode with growth come full spring.

A swell of emotion rose in Chen Nian’s chest. She picked out the sturdiest ones with care, determined to nurture that promise at home.

Someone hunkered down beside her: the little boy with the crippled arm.

“Did Fang Zhi go to your house?” he asked.

“Yep,” Chen Nian said.

“Does she get lots of good food?”

“Yep.”

“Does she have her own place to live?”

“Yep.”

“Does she have mom and dad now?”

Chen Nian’s nose tingled. She turned to him. “Fang Zhi’s always had wonderful parents.”

“Yeah!” The boy beamed, his smile lighting up the world. “That’s great.”

The yearning in his eyes shone plain as day.

It reminded her of him at their dinner table, eyeing her candy and asking if it was yummy. She could share a piece, but she couldn’t carve out a family for him.

Chen Nian kept digging up seedlings, and the boy stuck by her side.

He peppered her with idle questions. Finally, as she finished potting and stood, he pointed at the leftovers. “You don’t want these anymore?”

There were plenty still rooted. “It’s not that,” Chen Nian said. “I can only carry so many. The rest’ll thrive right here.”

“Will they grow big and bloom?” the boy asked.

Chen Nian said, “Yes, if someone takes care of them.”

The boy asked, “How do you take care of them?”

Chen Nian replied, “Just water them.”

The boy shouted excitedly, “Then I can do it!”

Chen Nian chatted with him for a good while longer, sharing every bit of flower care knowledge she had—which admittedly wasn’t much.

The boy was thrilled and trailed after her like a shadow, insisting on helping carry her bag.

Chen Nian split the plastic bag’s handle in two and handed one part to him.

Together, they carried the pots of flowers toward the exit. When they reached the big iron gate, the boy returned his share of the handle and said goodbye.

“Goodbye,” Chen Nian called out, waving to the entire Welfare Institute.

Fang Zhi was waiting for her right where they’d left off, just outside the gate.

Chen Nian quickened her pace into a jog and rushed over. When she reached Fang Zhi, she opened up the plastic bag for her to see. “They’ve all sprouted!”

Fang Zhi gasped. “Wow!”

Chen Nian beamed. “After the New Year, they’ll grow leaves!”

Fang Zhi’s eyes widened. “Wow!”

Chen Nian went on, “Who knows—maybe by summer they’ll even bloom.”

Fang Zhi leaned in closer. “What color flowers?”

Chen Nian burst out laughing. “I have no idea.”

The old man had given her nothing but bare stems, and that’s all they were when she planted them.

Now that they’d sprouted, Chen Nian knew they were hardy roses that could thrive, but she had no clue what color or shape the blooms would take once they matured.

It didn’t matter, though. Any flowers they nurtured together with their own hands would be lovable, no matter what they looked like.

The two girls returned home and prepared some flowerpots. After airing out Fang Zhi’s room properly, they arranged the little pots along her windowsill.

Liu Chunhua turned a blind eye to the whole thing. She didn’t ask where the flowers had come from, nor did she question where the girls had been during their long outing together.

Fang Zhi settled into her own little room, and Chen Nian returned to hers.

Their rooms were right next to each other, with the beds positioned side by side against the shared wall. Before bed each night, Chen Nian would knock on the wall—tap tap tap—and Fang Zhi would knock back from the other side—tap tap tap.

That was their way of saying goodnight. Good morning meant opening the door and saying it face-to-face.

Then they’d brush their teeth and wash their faces together, eat together, read together, do chores together, play together, and amuse Liu Chunhua and Chen Junjie together.

In the blink of an eye, the New Year was upon them.

Chen Junjie was on vacation, and Liu Chunhua stopped taking on work. They divvied up tasks to shop for New Year’s goods, but they always had to bring the kids along—and Chen Nian hated being separated from Fang Zhi.

So instead of one adult with one child, it became Dad taking both girls one time and Mom the next.

After enough of these outings, the neighbors and the shop owners nearby all knew that the Chen family’s child had gone from one to two. The new girl was tall and pretty, and though she called them uncle and aunt, they doted on her like a little princess.

Buying food for her, clothes for her, speaking softly and gently, waiting on her hand and foot.

On New Year’s Eve, they rose bright and early, loaded up with big bags and small packages, and headed back to their hometown.

Grandpa and Grandma were there, and Chen Junjie’s older brother lived nearby too, so both families gathered together for the holiday.

As soon as they got out of the car, Fang Zhi was captivated by the big white goose at the village entrance, her eyes following it as it waddled about. Chen Nian darted to her dad’s side and motioned for him to pick her up.

Chen Junjie scooped her into his arms, and Chen Nian whispered in his ear.

“Have you told everyone?”

“Told them what?” he asked.

“That you have another kid now.”

Chen Junjie chuckled. “You little worrywart—you think about so much. Yes, I’ve told them all. I’ve told them Niannian isn’t lonely anymore. She’s busy from morning till night…”

Chen Nian giggled. “Well, there’s a lot going on!”

“There sure is,” he agreed. “Even tying a flower hair ribbon for Little Zhi is a huge deal.”

Chen Nian steered the conversation back. “What about Eldest Uncle and Eldest Aunt?”

“I’ve told them.”

“What did they say?”

“What could they say? It’s our family’s business.”

Chen Nian gave him a big thumbs-up.

Her grandpa had two sons, and this eldest uncle was the closest relative on her dad’s side.

But Chen Nian didn’t like him much—just like her mom always said, the uncle was a fool, while the aunt was sharp as a tack. Now that the Chen family was doing well in the city, Eldest Aunt wasn’t happy about it. She was always egging Eldest Uncle on to pick fights with Grandpa, griping that he’d spent too much money back in the day sending Dad to school.

Little Chen Nian hadn’t understood any of that as a child and hadn’t cared. But grown-up Chen Nian saw it all as clear as day.

Though her grandpa was a farmer, he was hardworking and clever. He always planted whatever crops were valuable.

Grandpa often made some extra money. It was just a small business, but their family was doing far better than most others in the village.

Back in the day, they had sent both children to school without playing favorites. Eldest Uncle had dropped out early because he never bothered studying properly. He skipped classes every day to chase sheep on the back mountain, declaring that he wanted to be a shepherd when he grew up.

Well, now he really was one. Eldest Uncle had started a modest livestock farm. It wasn’t large, and the output wasn’t high, but the income was respectable enough.

Chen Nian’s family had never looked down on Eldest Uncle’s household, but Eldest Aunt always felt they were a cut below. After all, they were just in the business of slaughtering pigs and sheep, nothing like Chen Nian’s father with his secure government job.

There had been more than a few arguments over it, but they never amounted to anything.

Later, after Grandpa passed away, he left the family farmland to Eldest Uncle, and Eldest Aunt finally settled down for a couple of years.