The last class finally ended, and Jia Lan pedaled her bicycle back toward the courtyard. The sky was a canvas of warm colors, brushed with streaks of orange, rose, and the faintest trace of violet, as if the day itself didn't want to leave. The golden sun dipped lower and lower, casting long shadows that stretched lazily across the road.
The air was crisp and cool, with that gentle sharpness of a season slowly shifting, neither fully winter nor truly spring. It carried the earthy scent of damp soil and woodsmoke curling from chimneys, so clean and refreshing it almost made her lungs ache with how different it was from the future she remembered.
The streets bustled with a quiet harmony men returning from work with their lunch pails clinking, their laughter mixing with tired conversations; women standing at doorways, sleeves rolled up, calling children in with mock scolding voices and children themselves running freely their shouts and giggles echoing like little bells against the twilight sky. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked, and in another yard, the metallic clatter of a cooking pot rang out.
For a fleeting moment, Jia Lan slowed her pedaling, her lashes lowered against the fading light. This really is a beautiful time to live in. A time before the smog, the honking horns, the choking rush of crowds. Here, everything was slower, simpler, so unguardedly alive.
Her bicycle wheels rattled softly against the uneven stone road as she turned into her familiar lane. The sound of her tires and the faint squeak of the pedals blended with the rhythm of life around her, steady and grounding. She reached her courtyard gate, one hand slipping to the handle, her thoughts already drifting toward a warm meal and a quiet evening.
But just as she was about to push the gate open, a figure materialized out of nowhere bright, grinning, and impossibly sudden, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment all along.
"Lan Lan!"
The call was too bright, too cheerful, and far too sudden. Jia Lan's hands tightened on her handlebars as Shen Mingrui came into view, grinning like the sun itself. His teeth gleamed, his eyes sparkled, and he looked altogether too pleased with himself.
"How was your day? Was it good?" he asked, tone bursting with earnestness.
Jia Lan gave him a flat look. "It was good. But.." she exhaled pointedly, "you should call me Jia Lannot Lan Lan."
Unfazed, Shen Mingrui only beamed wider, as though she had complimented him. "Jia Lan, Jia Lan… right of course. Still Lan Lan suits you better, doesn't it?" His words tumbled one over the other, and he leaned slightly closer. "You must be tired. Riding your bicycle all the way from college to home, that's no small effort..."
Yes, I'm tired, Jia Lan thought, resisting the urge to rub her temples. But that's not the point. Why is this fool even talking to me?
And Shen Mingrui wasn't done. His mouth ran like a leaky faucet. "You study all day then ride back, and the roads sometimes they're uneven, aren't they? Do you know you should eat more red dates for energy? Or walnuts? My grandmother says walnuts are good for the brain, but I'm not saying you need them for your brain! You're already..ah..what I mean is..."
Jia Lan pinched the bridge of her nose. "…"
He scrambled, trying again. "What I mean is, it must be hard for you! So, take care of yourself. Don't tire yourself out, Jia Lan. Or Lan Lan. uh and the roads..sometimes they're uneven, aren't they? Do you know there are small eateries near the bureau? They serve the best dumplings...piping hot, with just the right amount of vinegar. And there's a place by East Market Street that sells fried sesame cakes..you'd like them, I think, though they sell out if you don't go early. Oh, and...there's this soup shop near the train station that makes..."
Jia Lan's ears perked up despite herself. She wasn't the type to go hunting for greasy street food, but dumplings, sesame cakes, hot soup in the winter… That did sound good.
Her face, however, remained the very picture of disinterest. She lifted her chin slightly, one elegant brow arching as if to say, And what does that have to do with me?
Shen Mingrui, oblivious or perhaps just willfully blind kept babbling with the enthusiasm of someone announcing state secrets. His hands even moved as if he were describing military strategies instead of noodle shops"...so maybe, uh, next time you're tired from cycling, you could…um… try them. I can…uh… show you where they are! They're really good, not far, you'd like them.."
Jia Lan, feeling the beginnings of a headache, finally raised a hand, slicing through his ramble with surgical precision.
"I'm going inside," she said, her voice calm, almost gentle, but her tone firm enough to stop a train. "We can… talk another time."
Most people would have shrunk back, embarrassed, but Shen Mingrui simply nodded with all the cheer of a sunflower in July."Another time then! ...Uh… say goodbye properly next time!" he added hastily, as if that was the most natural request in the world. Then, as though he hadn't just been dismissed, he flashed her a wide grin. "Have a good evening, Jia Lan!"
He stood there, waving like a fool, his smile so bright it could have lit the streetlamp beside him.
Jia Lan turned away, her back perfectly straight as she pushed open the courtyard gate. She didn't look back, didn't even twitch at least, not on the outside. But the moment the door clicked shut behind her, she let out a very small, very inaudible sigh.
Dumplings, sesame cakes, soup… Her mind betrayed her. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask about those places later.
Outside, Shen Mingrui was still lingering in the lane, grinning at nothing in particular, like someone who'd just been handed a medal instead of being politely chased off.
For reasons she refused to examine too closely, Jia Lan found that image floating in her head even as she set her bag down inside. Fool or not, the idiot had managed to plant sesame cakes in her thoughts and once there, they were surprisingly hard to uproot.
Inside, the familiar warmth of the courtyard wrapped around her like a soft blanket. The faint scent of simmering broth drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the sharper fragrance of freshly chopped scallions. The quiet murmur of boiling water and the occasional clatter of utensils made the small home feel alive, grounded, safe.
Jia Lan slipped off her shoes with a soft tap against the threshold, shaking the light dust from her bicycle ride. Straightening her coat, she stepped inside and called, her voice calm yet tinged with the weariness of the day, "Aunt Li, I'm back."
From the kitchen came the comforting reply, steady and familiar as always. "Welcome back, Miss. There was a call from your home today. They said for you to call them back after dinner."
Jia Lan stilled mid-step, her lashes lowering in quiet thought. A call from home… whatever it was, it couldn't be urgent, or they would've insisted she answer right away. She breathed out softly, smoothing the front of her clothes, and allowed her shoulders to relax.
I'll eat first, then call, she decided, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Whatever it is, it can wait until my stomach is full.
The thought of a warm dinner, of the ordinary peace that Aunt Li's presence always brought, outweighed any flicker of curiosity. For now, she would savor the small comforts food, quiet, and the simple sense of belonging in this world that had begun to feel more like home than she ever expected.
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