Shen Tingwan, fighting off her drunken haze, asked the question casually. It was rather brazen, laced with a hint of playfulness.
Sang Ning froze in place. She could tell Shen Tingwan was joking, but after a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “Do you want me to?”
Seeing how serious Sang Ning was, Shen Tingwan knew that even if she was being thick-skinned, Sang Ning would oblige and stay out of politeness. But she’d already imposed enough for one night.
“I’m just kidding. It’s not that dramatic.”
Sang Ning still stood there, confirming once more, “Are you really okay?”
“Really.” Shen Tingwan gave a helpless smile. “I hold my liquor pretty well.”
That doesn’t mean you should drink too much, Sang Ning thought to herself. She had no right to interfere too much, and besides, socializing often left little choice.
“Then I’ll head out.” Sang Ning called after her just in time. “No need to see me off. Get some rest.”
Shen Tingwan nodded, her voice soft and husky from exhaustion. “Text me when you get home.”
The words felt far more intimate than simple thanks. Sang Ning suddenly sensed it viscerally—she seemed to have stepped into Shen Tingwan’s life… Dazed, she replied, “Okay.”
The door closed gently behind her.
Shen Tingwan went to the kitchen and poured herself another glass of water. She opened the fridge door, where two jars of peach jam sat neatly arranged, complete with production dates labeled thoughtfully.
She smiled at the jam. Earlier, she’d only been teasing. For some reason, she felt that even offhand remarks like that, Sang Ning would fulfill with utmost seriousness. Such a good temper.
In the blink of an eye, it was late August, and Birch City still sweltered under relentless heat. With Qixi approaching, the studio was swamped that week.
Yu Shuang hefted her camera and summed it up succinctly: “No holiday for us, but plenty of work.”
Sang Ning smiled and pitched in, helping set up the scene.
After a solid half-afternoon of work, Yu Shuang ordered afternoon tea as a treat. Sang Ning eyed the two big bags of takeout in her hands. “Why so much? Aren’t you trying to lose weight?”
“Starting tomorrow. I had a buy-fifty-get-thirty-off coupon— it’d hurt not to use it.” Yu Shuang unpacked the bags. “Help me eat some. Share the calorie load.”
Sang Ning chuckled; she was used to these excuses by now.
After a hearty afternoon tea, Yu Shuang patted the flesh around her waist. “Tomorrow, I really start dieting.”
Sang Ning had heard it all before and didn’t take it seriously. But this time, Yu Shuang seemed determined. The next day, she showed up to work in athletic wear to prove it, declaring they should go night jogging after hours.
That evening, Sang Ning had company for her run. Considering Yu Shuang’s lack of regular exercise, she slowed her pace considerably.
They hadn’t gone far along the street before Yu Shuang stopped, hands on her hips, panting and waving her hands. “Can’t run anymore. Done, done.”
Sang Ning stopped too and walked back a bit. “We haven’t even hit two kilometers.”
Yu Shuang stared at her, not even winded. “Your stamina is insane.”
“You’ll get used to it. You just don’t run enough.” Sang Ning walked alongside her. Spending all day in air conditioning, a bit of hot evening breeze felt refreshing.
In the end, Yu Shuang’s forty-five-minute jog goal devolved into a brisk walk.
They strolled idly, passing a night market barbecue stall. The savory aroma wafted over, and Sang Ning saw Yu Shuang’s eyes glaze over like they were fixated on roasted pig trotters.
Yu Shuang ground to a halt. “Smells so good.”
Sang Ning watched her for a moment before saying mildly, “Why not start your diet tomorrow instead?”
“No way, I have to stick to it.” Yu Shuang’s gaze was resolute. She shouldn’t have dragged Sang Ning along for supervision—Sang Ning was too soft-hearted to enforce it.
Yu Shuang persisted longer than Sang Ning expected—about five minutes.
They sat at a small table by the barbecue stall. Sang Ning reined her in a bit, or Yu Shuang would’ve ordered a full feast.
As Yu Shuang chowed down on skewers, she asked, “Got plans for the holiday?”
Sang Ning: “Nope.”
Predictable answer. Qixi fell on a weekend, so Yu Shuang pressed, “Want Big Sis Yu to take you out? Might meet a pretty lady and finally get yourself a girlfriend.”
Sang Ning sipped her cola. “Not going. Good luck to you.”
“You’re not into pretty ladies.” Yu Shuang blurted it out. “Not even someone like your senior does it for you.”
Sang Ning: “…”
Yu Shuang always brought up Shen Tingwan as an example.
Street barbecue had that authentic, smoky vibe. Hygiene aside, it tasted worlds better than mall food, and the evening breeze made it perfect.
Yu Shuang had eaten chicken breast for lunch; now she devoured like the whole chicken family was on the menu, adding grilled eggplant and bread slices.
A little cat wandered over, rolling around coquettishly nearby. Sang Ning found it adorable and snapped several photos. As she did, she wondered if she should send them to Shen Tingwan.
They didn’t message often, but Shen Tingwan occasionally shared pics of Bouncy, Jumpy, and Pi Pi.
Yu Shuang called her name. “Sang Ning.”
Sang Ning glanced over. “What?”
“Is your reluctance to date tied to your hearing?” Yu Shuang asked casually, though it was the first time she’d broached it, treading lightly.
Sang Ning thought it over. Denying it outright felt unrealistic; it did have some impact. Growing up mocked and pitied, surrounded by people urging her to be grateful for “good enough” matches—that was reality.
Sometimes she wondered how she dared to like Shen Tingwan. Even harboring a secret crush felt bold. This secret had to stay buried deep.
“Don’t overthink it. You’re great,” Yu Shuang said with her usual bright laugh. “Someone who truly likes you will love all of you.”
“Mm.” Sang Ning smiled warmly. Despite the malice she’d faced growing up, kindness outnumbered it. Pushing past the gloom revealed a world not so bad. She often recalled first meeting Shen Tingwan—that’s when she’d started trying to clear the haze…
Her phone screen lit up. Sang Ning checked the message—from the very person on her mind.
[Shen Tingwan] Bouncy’s birthday today.
Sang Ning tapped the photo: Jiang Yunchun affably placing a birthday hat on Bouncy for the little cat’s celebration.
She smiled and naturally sent back the photos of the stray kitten.
Shen Tingwan received them and couldn’t help laughing. Tit for tat?
Jiang Yunchun had wrestled with Bouncy for ages, unable to get the hat on, and finally gave up. She asked Shen Tingwan, “Who’re you sending pics to?”
Shen Tingwan: “Your Little Teacher Sang.”
Hearing Sang Ning mentioned sparked a thought in Jiang Yunchun.
Sang Ning saw Shen Tingwan’s reply, asking if she was free for a call. Slightly startled, not knowing why, she immediately typed back, “Yes.”
The voice call connected seconds later.
Sang Ning stood and stepped aside to answer. But upon connecting, it wasn’t Shen Tingwan’s voice.
Jiang Yunchun greeted her first: “Little Teacher Sang, it’s Grandma.”
Sang Ning: “Hello, Grandma.”
Jiang Yunchun: “Are you free this weekend? Come over for dinner.”
Sang Ning had added Jiang Yunchun on WeChat before; the older woman sometimes asked photography tips, likely as thanks. “Grandma, no need to be so polite.”
“It’s not politeness. Last time you visited, we didn’t make you a proper meal.” Jiang Yunchun invited warmly.
Before Sang Ning could reply, the line went quiet, then a soft, pleasant low chuckle came through—Shen Tingwan this time.
“She’s probably scheming to pick your brain on photography again. She’s still obsessed with taking photos…”
Sang Ning listened to Shen Tingwan’s explanation and agreed, “Mm, okay.”
It was set for Qixi Day.
Sang Ning bought some fruit and headed to Jiang Yunchun’s at noon. The old lady greeted her kindly upon arrival. “Little Ning’s here!”
Sang Ning politely greeted her and entered. She didn’t see Shen Tingwan; Jiang Yunchun explained she had business and wouldn’t make it for lunch.
Jiang Yunchun: “She misses out on good food today.”
Auntie Zeng chuckled nearby. “Probably on a date. It’s Valentine’s Day.”
“I’d be happy if she had a date, but no—work as usual.” Jiang Yunchun knew her granddaughter well. Realizing it was Qixi, she turned to Sang Ning. “Hope I didn’t pull you away from anything today?”
Sang Ning: “I had no plans.”
The old lady gossiped lightly, “No date, huh?”
“Nope.”
Jiang Yunchun beamed. “Grandma will keep you company for the holiday and cook you something delicious.”
Sang Ning felt touched. Her senior’s grandma was a gentle soul too.
Jiang Yunchun was a skilled cook, though she rarely cooked these days due to age. In high spirits today, she took charge in the kitchen herself.
Sang Ning joined her. “Let me help.”
Auntie Zeng assisted the old lady. “You’re a guest; that won’t do.”
“What guest?” Jiang Yunchun brushed it off, not wanting Sang Ning to sit idly and feel awkward. “Little Ning, come help me.”
Sang Ning: “Okay.”
Jiang Yunchun noted Sang Ning’s deft movements—not a kitchen newbie. She was impressed. “You can chop veggies too? Cook?”
“Just home-style dishes.” Sang Ning had learned to cook in her teens. Though Sang Mingjuan hadn’t taught her, she’d wanted to ease her mother’s burden and figured it out.
A young woman who took great photos and* cooked—Jiang Yunchun liked her even more, praising lavishly. “Impressive. Not many young people cook these days.”
With the old lady cooking and Sang Ning prepping, they made quick work.
…
Shen Tingwan entered the living room, hit by the aroma of dinner. She headed to the kitchen but paused. Sang Ning focused intently, wearing a light cotton-linen shirt tucked into jeans, her back view serene and soft.
Jiang Yunchun stir-fried a quick dish and spotted her. “Back already? Eaten?”
Shen Tingwan finally spoke. “Not yet. Done with work—wanted the master’s cooking after all.”
Hearing the familiar voice, Sang Ning turned. Shen Tingwan wore a white shirt, cradling two bouquets that brightened her smile even more.
Their eyes met quietly.
“Perfect timing—food’s ready.” Jiang Yunchun continued, eyeing the flowers. “Pretty. From someone?”
“Bought them myself.” Shen Tingwan handed one to Jiang Yunchun, bending down. “Teacher Jiang, Happy Qixi.”
“You and your sweet talk.” Jiang Yunchun took the flowers delightedly, grinning ear to ear.
Sang Ning watched the other bouquet head her way, fragrant and vibrant.
Shen Tingwan smiled. “Happy Qixi.”
