Chapter 4: Parting at the End of Summer

The entire courtyard was filled with an array of enticing aromas. The fragrant spiciness of the mala crayfish mingled with the rich, savory scent of braised pork in thick, red sauce.

Shi Chu carefully cleaned the mandarin fish, then fried it in hot oil until it turned golden and crisp, its shape resembling a squirrel. He then simmered a tangy and sweet sauce made from tomatoes, white vinegar, and sugar, drizzling it over the fried fish. The vibrant squirrel-shaped mandarin fish was now complete.

After preparing each dish, Shi Chu would always feed the young girl beside him.

“Wow—”

The squirrel mandarin fish was crispy on the outside, tender and juicy inside. Paired with the sweet and sour sauce, the layers of flavor ignited her taste buds instantly.

“Chu Chu, more, please!”

Ying Zhiyao felt as if her stomach was made just for Shi Chu’s cooking. No matter what he made, it always tasted wonderful to her.

While feeding Ying Zhiyao, Shi Chu also stir-fried some seasonal vegetables freshly picked from their own garden. These required little seasoning to taste refreshingly sweet and crisp.

Finally, Shi Chu personally made hand-pulled noodles—their birthday noodles.

By the time he finished, it was already noon.

The four of them sat around a small table. Shi Chu placed the cake in the center and lit the candles shaped as “18.”

After thirteen years apart, Shi Chu and Ying Zhiyao reunited at eighteen—the best years in each other’s lives.

“Make a wish,” he smiled at Ying Zhiyao.

The girl nodded. “Chu Chu, you make a wish too.”

“All right.”

They clasped their hands together, making wishes on their first birthday spent together, then blew out the candles side by side.

She wished to spend every birthday with Chu Chu from now on.

He wished for Ying Zhiyao to get well soon.

“Miss, the cake was also made by Shi Chu himself. It’s a cute little Shiba Inu,” Aunt He said with a smile, knowing Ying Zhiyao couldn’t see it.

“Wow, the squirrel mandarin fish looks so beautiful too—better than what a chef would make,” Ying Zhiyao’s dimples never faded from her lips. “It’s such a pity I can’t see it with my own eyes.”

“Don’t worry, Miss. I recorded the whole process and took plenty of photos. When your eyes get better, you can watch them anytime you want!”

“Mm!”

“And whenever Yao Yao wants, Shi Chu will make it for you anytime,” Shi Nuan added with a smile. “Although Yao Yao and Shi Chu were born on the same year, month, and day, Shi Chu was born in the morning, and Yao Yao at night, so Shi Chu is the older brother.”

“I like having an older brother,” Ying Zhiyao said with a sweet smile. “I don’t like those younger than me.”

Upon hearing this, Shi Chu silently raised an eyebrow—fortunately, he was the “older brother.”

And fortunately, fate allowed him to be born first. What did that feel like?

It was as if...

Look—since he was older, he was meant to protect her.

Everyone sang the birthday song together. Listening to the young man’s voice beside her, Ying Zhiyao thought Chu Chu’s singing was really beautiful. It was not as low and husky as his speaking voice but soft and soothing.

Finally, Shi Nuan raised her juice glass. “Well then, let’s wish the two birthday stars a happy eighteenth birthday! May you always be joyful and happy!”

...

Late summer still lingered with heat.

Early morning, Pingzhen was shrouded in a thin mist.

The boy steadily pedaled his tricycle through the fog.

On the carriage sat a delicate girl with her eyes covered by white gauze.

They had just finished selling vegetables and were heading home.

Aunt He had caught a cold, and Ying Zhiyao had insisted she rest well at home.

“Chu Chu,” the girl’s voice was filled with joy and softness, like a gentle southern melody.

“Hm?”

Even after hearing it many times, every time the girl called him “Chu Chu,” Shi Chu still felt a flush on his ears.

“I like the morning air in Pingzhen, and I like going to pick and sell vegetables with you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of the boy’s lips. “Today I’ll take you to catch crayfish, and tonight I’ll cook something delicious for you.”

“Mm!”

Unconsciously, Ying Zhiyao had already been in Pingzhen for over a month.

During this time, neither of them asked about the other’s past.

Shi Chu was healing Ying Zhiyao in his own way, soothing her inner pain and dispelling the darkness that enveloped her.

Ying Zhiyao loved being with the boy.

She loved everything he cooked.

She loved going with him to the mountains to pick fruits and to the river to catch shrimp and fish.

She loved Pingzhen—the feeling of dew soaking into her palms, the scent of the mountain breeze, the chorus of frogs and insects.

Though she couldn’t see, the boy was almost endlessly patient, guiding her to experience the pure beauty of nature.

Her grandmother, Song Yushu, had once established the first kindergarten here because she loved this place too.

When she was a child, she didn’t understand. Now, because of the boy beside her, she understood and had grown to love it here as well.

Ying Zhiyao spread her arms wide as the rising sun filtered through the mist, casting a hazy glow over her still somewhat pale face.

She wanted to get better.

Chu Chu had told her the starry sky in Pingzhen at night was breathtaking and that there were many fireflies. She wanted to see them with her own eyes.

She wanted to see Aunt Shi Nuan, a woman with a very gentle voice.

And...

She wanted most of all to see Chu Chu.

Ying Zhiyao placed her hand over her pounding heart.

She could feel the vitality of life; the wounds in her heart were slowly healing.

And it was all because of the boy beside her—Shi Chu.

...

Ying Zhiyao’s departure came suddenly.

Shi Chu brought freshly baked pancakes to see her but found the front door locked tight.

He stood there stupefied for a long time.

Finally, beneath a stone under the big banyan tree, he found a note.

In delicate handwriting, the girl had written: “Chu Chu, thank you. Don’t miss me. Goodbye.”

Shi Chu clenched the note, a bitter smile creeping onto his lips.

She had left after all.

He had her home phone number—why didn’t she make a call to say goodbye? At least let him see her off.

Though he had long known she didn’t belong here and would leave someday, when that day came, Shi Chu realized his heart could not accept it so easily.

He sat on the small chair she once used, chewing on the pancake with a dry mouth.

When they were five, they had sat side by side in the kindergarten of Pingzhen for half a day.

At eighteen, they had shared an entire summer vacation of memories in Pingzhen.

He had learned her name.

He knew she was still as well-behaved as she was in childhood—so obedient, so gentle.

He knew she was a girl who liked to daydream, a little absent-minded, speaking softly and slowly.

He knew she loved cherry blossom pink.

He knew every piece of her clothing was embroidered with a vivid cherry blossom—her namesake.

And that was all.

Shi Chu looked at his hands, rough and calloused, then thought of her soft, delicate little hands—the hands of a pampered young lady from a wealthy family.

He shook his head.

He and she were simply from different worlds.

He dared not hope for anything.

When they parted at five, he wished for that very well-behaved little girl to stop being picky, to eat well, and to live healthily and happily.

Now, it was the same, plus the wish he made on his birthday: that Ying Zhiyao would get better soon.

As for himself, he would take care of his mother and continue to strive forward.

Ying Zhiyao, may you be happy and carefree.