Chapter One: A Summer Reunion

July, summer.

A rumble of muffled thunder drew open the gray curtain of the sky, heralding a torrential downpour over Ping Town.

Hospital.

Ji Shichu carefully packed his mother’s medicine into his backpack. The faded, well-worn bag was adorned with a small cherry blossom Shiba Inu charm, delicate and endearing—a chubby, smiling dog with a cherry blossom nestled atop its round head.

Suddenly, fierce winds swept through, rain poured in sheets, blocking the boy’s path. Ji Shichu sat in the crowded lobby, watching the rain pelt the glass in a relentless rhythm. He pulled down the brim of his black cap and closed his eyes to rest.

Until a malicious whisper reached his ears.

“Boss, it’s a blind kid!”

“Look at her watch—it must be expensive.”

“That bag by her feet is designer, from that donkey brand.”

“This is a hospital—don’t make a scene. Don't touch anything on the blind kid, just take the bag.”

“Alright!”

Ji Shichu tilted the brim of his hat and saw three figures sneaking toward him. These were local layabouts, notorious troublemakers known as the “Traffic Light”—so named for their hair: one dyed red, one green, one yellow.

Blind kid?

Ji Shichu glanced around and fixed his gaze on the girl sitting beside him. Her eyes were covered with white gauze, her complexion sickly pale, body frail. Despite the lobby’s chaos—patients and families trapped by the rain—she simply sat quietly next to him, as if separated from the world.

By her feet sat the luxury bag; evidently, she was the “blind kid” the Traffic Light had been discussing.

Just as the yellow-haired one approached her, Ji Shichu stretched out his leg. The unsuspecting yellow-haired thug stumbled and fell face-first with a heavy thud.

“Who the hell tripped me!” he spat blood, cursing—his front tooth knocked out.

Ji Shichu scoffed, pressing his cap back down, arms folded, eyes half-lidded as he watched the trio.

The Traffic Light, recognizing Ji Shichu, turned pale as if they’d swallowed dirt and bolted.

Ji Shichu—madman with a reputation for fighting recklessly, bones harder than anyone’s, even ghosts feared him.

The yellow-haired one clutched his broken tooth, cursing in pain.

Yet, despite the commotion, the girl beside him remained calm.

Ji Shichu wasn’t particularly compassionate; his own life was miserable enough. His intervention had been more instinct than kindness—she couldn’t see, and he couldn’t let those thugs get away with it.

He knelt down, straightening the luxury bag and picking up the picture frame that had fallen out.

He wondered if the frame was broken, but when his eyes landed on the photo inside, his breath caught.

In the photograph, a woman in a cheongsam gently stroked a little girl’s hair, her expression full of loving warmth. The little girl, about four or five, held a Shiba Inu with a cherry blossom hairpin, smiling at the camera—her dimples brimming with summer’s sweetness.

Ji Shichu instantly recognized the woman: Song Yushu, the girl’s grandmother.

Then…

He took a deep breath and looked again at the girl beside him, his previous indifference replaced by a barely perceptible anticipation.

He wanted to ask: Why do you have this photo? Who are you?

But would it be too abrupt?

As Ji Shichu hesitated, the quiet girl softly spoke two words:

“Thank you.”

Her voice was gentle and sweet, like the soft mountain breeze—fresh and soothing. Though blind, her ears were keen, and she must have guessed what had happened.

“The frame is broken…” Ji Shichu carefully took the photo out and placed it in her hand.

Her slender fingers traced the photograph, her voice trembling slightly: “This is my grandmother.”

He understood. “The girl in the picture?”

“That’s me.” She spoke in the direction of his voice, introducing herself: “My name is Ying Zhiyao.”

Ji Shichu’s suspicion was confirmed. He looked at Ying Zhiyao with a hint of nostalgia.

Ying Zhiyao—Yaoyao, grown-up Yaoyao.

The summer’s weather shifted quickly, and the sudden rain stopped. The sky cleared, sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating the girl’s pale face.

The summer before his second year of high school, Ji Shichu met the little girl from his memories once again.

Their first encounter had been in another cicada-filled summer—

A blazing summer day.

Ping Town Kindergarten.

Song Yushu, Ying Zhiyao’s grandmother, would finish her tenure as principal today and leave Ping Town. On her last day, she brought her precious granddaughter with her.

Ying Zhiyao was five, and by chance, she sat beside Ji Shichu, who was the same age.

She wore a pale pink, fluffy dress, her hair tied in two little pigtails, delicate and adorable. She sat quietly by his side and soon fell asleep.

In the noisy classroom, she slept soundly like a little piglet—so sweet, so well-behaved, like a perfect child.

He hardly dared to breathe, afraid of waking her.

At noon, as he prepared to eat, he took out his lunch from home and went off to wash his hands.

When he returned, the sweet child was awake, sneakily eating from his lunchbox.

His family was poor, and the food was simple—wild greens he’d picked and stewed, paired with a coarse bun.

He hadn’t expected her to eat so happily.

He watched silently, a smile breaking across his delicate face.

Song Yushu came over, somewhat embarrassed: “Yaoyao is so picky, always weak and frail. It’s usually a struggle to get her to eat, but today she’s eating so well.”

So her name was Yaoyao.

How lovely.

Weak, was she? No wonder she slept so much.

Song Yushu tried to give Ji Shichu money, but he refused. His food wasn’t worth much.

What mattered was how happy she was eating it.

He felt happy too.

Ji Shichu quietly walked away, thinking he’d return when the sweet child finished eating—he didn’t want to embarrass her.

But when he came back, she was gone.

The food in his lunchbox had been replaced with six large meat buns.

Inside his desk, she’d left a cherry blossom Shiba Inu charm.

The smiling Shiba Inu, its plump head adorned with a cherry blossom.

Beside the charm was her clumsy handwriting: Thank you, the food was so yummy. Yaoyao’s favorite puppy for you.

When he took the charm to find Song Yushu, he was told she’d already left with her granddaughter.

That year, he only heard Song Yushu call her Yaoyao.

He never got the chance to tell her his name.

Soon after, he left Ping Town with his mother for the city, seeking a living.

He had never spoken of this to anyone.

Nor had he expected they’d ever meet again.

But he hoped that sweet, well-behaved girl would stop being picky, eat well, and grow up healthy.

As for him, he would keep struggling through the mud, fighting his way forward.