Chapter 7

Chapter 7

When Xu Meng arrived at the market, Zhang Guifen’s cart happened to be parked under a big tree.

Zhang Guifen was chatting with someone nearby while fanning herself with a palm-leaf fan.

That morning, she had sold just over ten watermelons, four of which Feng Yanwen bought for business. Honestly, Zhang Guifen never thought Feng Yanwen would amount to much with it. But when she saw Xu Meng standing before her with a basket on her back, she was still surprised.

Xu Meng greeted her with a smile and handed over the money for the melons they had bought on credit earlier.

They were all one-yuan bills, easy to tally—sixteen in all.

Zhang Guifen gaped in surprise. “You sold them all? How did you sell them so quickly?”

It wasn’t that she had underestimated Feng Yanwen, but watermelons weren’t selling well these days.

They were too big—unless a family had a lot of people, who’d buy them one at a time? The fact that only a few had been sold all morning showed just how hard it was to sell them.

Xu Meng smiled and said, “Aunt Zhang, I’d like to take four more. The ones from earlier were great—just pick ones like those.” She wasn’t in the mood to talk shop.

A deal’s a deal, after all. This was her livelihood, at least for now, as she relied on selling watermelons to make a living. Even if they were close, she’d rather wait a while before sharing her methods. So today, she didn’t want Zhang Shufen delivering the melons.

Zhang Guifen was thrilled to move four more melons and quickly began selecting them.

While the melons were being picked, Xu Meng studied the small cart. Zhang Guifen rode a small three-wheeled vehicle with a cargo box that could hold over twenty watermelons. There was also space in the back for two baskets, each capable of holding two more melons. Xu Meng couldn’t help but envy folks with their own wheels—even a bicycle would be better than having to carry everything in a basket.

Soon, four watermelons were chosen. This time, Zhang Guifen picked slightly smaller ones, adding up to a little over seventy pounds.

“I’ve put the bigger ones in your basket, and this smaller one you can carry in your arms,” Zhang Guifen said as she helped arrange the melons.

If Xu Meng hadn’t grown up doing hard labor, a basket full of melons like this would have crushed her.

Xu Meng said, “Aunt Zhang, I have another favor to ask. Will you be selling melons here again tomorrow?”

Zhang Guifen brightened. “Melon season’s here—I’m out every day.”

Xu Meng: “Then could you deliver some to me tomorrow morning? I won’t know exactly how many I’ll need until then.” She planned to have Zhang Guifen deliver them straight to her home.

Zhang Guifen quickly agreed. She had a set number of melons to move each day, and if she didn’t sell them all, she’d have to hawk them door-to-door till they were gone. She had to wake up at five or six in the morning to pick them from the fields, and she never knew when she’d make it home at night. Only when she landed a big customer could she return early.

An early day meant she could rest—no way she’d say no.

So the two settled on the delivery location and quantity. Once everything was arranged, Zhang Guifen steadied the basket as Xu Meng left. With Xu Meng and her mother taking eight melons in one go, the cart was looking a lot emptier. Figuring she could knock off early today, she started humming to herself, thinking that if Xu Meng could take seven or eight melons every day, she wouldn’t even pry about how they moved them.

Xu Meng carried four watermelons on her back. At first, it wasn’t so bad—after all, she had carried three that morning.

But as she walked, her load kept getting heavier. One more melon made it feel twice as heavy.

Xu Meng wanted to rest, but you couldn’t just hoist the basket back up without help. So she focused on the profits from selling the melons. Though she hadn’t counted the money before leaving, after deducting what they owed Zhang Guifen, Feng Yanwen’s pocket was still bulging with cash—pure profit.

The thought of that cash gave Xu Meng a second wind.

These days, what paid better with less risk than a little side hustle?

But why did this road feel so long? Despite her pep talk, Xu Meng was gasping for air. Just as she was about to give up, someone called out, “Xu Meng!”

After a few turns, Han Lingling ran into Xu Meng again.

At first, Han Lingling had called out to Xu Meng a few times, but when she got no response, she was about to get off the motorcycle to chase her. That was when Han Jiming noticed something was wrong and got off to help. Luckily, he caught her in time—or else all those melons would’ve hit the dirt.

Han Jiming glanced down and caught sight of Xu Meng’s glistening sweat and strikingly beautiful face.

To older folks’ tastes, Xu Meng's beauty might be considered too bold, but to younger eyes, she was breathtaking—her delicate, fair skin flushed with a rosy hue. He hadn’t paid it much mind earlier when he approached, but now his breath hitched slightly. Han Lingling’s babbling snapped him back to reality.

"Uncle, is she suffering from heatstroke?"

"She’s alright—just got too much sun." Han Jiming swung open the sidecar and helped Xu Meng sit down, then handed her a water bottle. "Rest here for a bit and drink some water."

Xu Meng had already started recovering.

She took the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a few sips. It was sugar water with a pinch of salt.

As the water settled in, her body gradually relaxed, and she didn’t look so pale anymore. Only then did she properly take in the two of them.

Han Lingling beamed at her, teeth gleaming. "Xu Meng, don’t you remember me? It’s Han Lingling! This is my uncle. You’re a trooper, hauling all that alone!"

Han Jiming nodded at her, noticing her large, round eyes—clear and bright, like the Persian cat his family kept, brimming with curiosity. Her look tickled him, and he grinned.

Xu Meng turned her face away and asked Han Lingling, "How did you recognize me?"

They hadn’t laid eyes on each other in five years. She’d grown up a lot since then, and after middle school, many former classmates no longer recognized her.

"How could I not? We were so close!" Han Lingling made sure she was settled in the sidecar while she and Han Jiming moved the watermelons into the main compartment. She then slid onto the seat behind Han Jiming and asked, "Where are you headed? We’ll give you a ride. We can chat on the way."

———

After that whole mess, Xu Meng had no confidence in carrying those watermelons any further.

So she gave them a destination, and Han Jiming got on the bike, heading toward the train station.

Han Lingling had actually been her elementary school classmate, and Han Jiming was her uncle.

Though they were of different generations, the age gap was only about four or five years. Even as a child, Han Jiming had been a heartthrob—handsome and effortlessly stylish. Back when they’d skate at Shichahai in winter, he always stood out the most. But in sixth grade, Xu Meng fell through the ice, fell seriously ill, and had to rest for months. By the time she visited the Han family again, she heard Han Jiming had transferred to another school.

Later, they attended different middle schools, and her friendship with Han Lingling faded, cutting off all contact.

The Hans were in a league of their own—they lived in the Shijia Hutong area, a neighborhood that’d been home to Ming and Qing dynasty officials. In the late Qing era, their residence had been the private estate of a Hanlin academician. During the Republic, it was home to Beijing’s elite. After liberation, those families fled, and the state redistributed the properties, splitting them among new residents.

The Hans landed a two-courtyard siheyuan.

Back then, Xu Meng didn’t get it—she just thought the Han family’s home was big and beautiful, like a park, and she loved visiting. Fortunately, the Hans were warm and welcoming.

But as she grew older, she visited less.

Their families were worlds apart—like how she still dreamed of owning a bicycle while Han Lingling was already tearing around on a motorbike.

Han Lingling asked, "Why are you taking watermelons to the train station?"

Xu Meng: "I’m running a small business there."

Han Lingling went, "Oh!"—suddenly impressed by Xu Meng’s hustle. She laughed. "That’s great! I used to beg to work odd jobs as a kid, but my family wouldn’t even let me clear the table. But you’re starting senior year next term, right? This won’t affect your studies, will you?" She sounded genuinely worried.

Xu Meng: "Oh, but it’s summer break..." Once school started, she’d naturally return.

It clicked—Han Lingling was fishing to see if she’d quit school.

In her memory, Han Lingling had always been this considerate. Even though their family backgrounds differed, Han Lingling rarely spoke down to her or acted superior. Memories of their childhood came flooding back, dissolving the awkwardness of years apart. Xu Meng replied without hesitation.

"Mom and I are running a little side gig to earn some money over the summer. What about you? Where do you go to high school?"

Han Lingling's eyes curved as she kept smiling: "I'm at Tsinghua University High School. High school studies got a bit tough for me, so I chose the humanities track. But the humanities require a lot of memorization, which is also quite hard for me. That's why I roped my uncle into coming out with me as soon as he got his summer vacation."

Xu Meng then glanced at Han Jiming.

In her mind, Han Jiming was already a household name—a businessman radiating success.

Years later, she had once caught a distant glimpse of him but hadn't dared to approach and say hello. Later, she heard that Xu Jia’s career at school had greatly benefited from the help of the Han family. She just couldn’t fathom how Xu Jia had gotten connected with them in the first place.

She wanted to smile at Han Jiming too, but he was too dazzling to look at.

Luckily, they had arrived at the train station.