Chapter 21

Chapter 21

As they were talking, someone else approached from behind—it was Han Lingling’s mother, Jiang Huiqi.

Upon hearing that her daughter wanted a place to study, Jiang Huiqi immediately smiled warmly and said enthusiastically, “Go to the reception room. It’s quiet there, and the lighting is better. You must be Xiao Xu, right? It’s been years since you last came here. No wonder Xiao Wuer’s actually willing to study now.”

Jiang Huiqi was the wife of Han Shuping, the second son of the Han family. She’d been living with her in-laws all these years. The Han family’s eldest uncle had long since moved away for work, leaving Han Shuping, as the second son, to stay at home and accompany the elderly. Although there was still Han Jiming in the family, he was much younger than his two older brothers and pretty much seen as a kid in their eyes.

From what Xu Meng remembered, Jiang Huiqi had always been easygoing and polite to young guests like them.

She took the two inside and pushed open a door, revealing a spacious, well-lit room with a sofa, a desk, and a large window. In earlier years, this had been Old Master Han’s office, but now that he had fully retired, the room was no longer in use and had been turned into a reception room.

Easily the nicest room in the entire compound.

“Thank you, Auntie.”

As soon as Xu Meng sat down, someone brought in fruit. Han Lingling immediately looked annoyed and snapped at Jiang Huiqi, “Mom, I’m trying to study! All this traffic in and out is really distracting!”

Jiang Huiqi was very indulgent with her daughter and replied gently, “Alright, alright, we won’t disturb you.”

Still, she had tea brought in.

Xu Meng inhaled the fragrant aroma of the tea and recognized it as West Lake Longjing—she hadn’t had such fine tea in years.

Han Lingling kept muttering to herself, but when she saw Xu Meng already opening her test papers and starting to work, she fell silent and took out her own books. They lost track of time studying, and when they next looked up, over two hours had gone by.

“Honestly, when I study alone, I can never focus. But today, I actually studied for so long. Xu Meng, will you come again tomorrow?”

Xu Meng hesitated to promise. She already had a regular study partner.

But Han Lingling wouldn’t take no for an answer. She grabbed Xu Meng’s arm and pleaded, “Come on, please? Even if it’s every other day?”

Xu Meng found it hard to refuse. “But isn’t school starting next week?”

Han Lingling persisted, “A few days is fine too. I get so much more done when you’re here. I used to get distracted all the time, but seeing you working seriously, I actually managed to control myself and not look around.”

Was studying like eating—better with friends around?

After a short break, the two went out for a walk.

As soon as they stepped outside, they ran into Jiang Huiqi again. Seeing how diligently Han Lingling had been studying, she became even more enthusiastic toward Xu Meng, asking if there was anything she wasn’t comfortable with and what snacks she liked.

Xu Meng wasn’t used to such warmth. “I’m fine with anything—no, no, I’ll be going home for dinner soon. It’s too close to dinner for snacks now. Lingling and I just came out for a short walk, and we’ll go back to studying soon.”

Han Lingling, sensing her discomfort, frowned and said, “Mom, Xu Meng and I need absolute quiet when we study. Just bring us two more cups of tea later.” She’d noticed Xu Meng enjoyed the tea.

Xu Meng breathed a sigh of relief. If they kept being this hospitable, she’d feel too awkward to come again.

Jiang Huiqi returned to the kitchen in the backyard, where she happened to see Han Jiming hanging around like he was scouting for food. She couldn’t help but laugh. “Aren’t you a bit old to be sneaking into the kitchen for snacks?”

Though Han Jiming was her brother-in-law, there was a twenty-year age gap between them. When she married into the family, he had still been toddling around. In her eyes, he was practically no different from the younger generation, so she spoke to him casually.

Han Jiming wasn’t offended. Instead, he grinned and said, “Who knows? Maybe I’ve got a late growth spurt. I had some tea this afternoon and got hungry soon after. I checked the time—dinner’s still over two hours away—so I thought I’d snag something to hold me over. Got anything that’ll stick to my ribs but won’t spoil dinner?”

“Nonsense! You’re way too old to still be growing!”

“You never know. I’m prepping for grad school—it’s brain drain.”

Jiang Huiqi slapped her forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that? All I sent you this afternoon was fruit. I’ll have Aunt Li bring some snacks when she takes in the tea later.”

Han Jiming was nowhere to be found.

He probably went to grab a bite, Jiang Huiqi thought to herself.

The homemade chestnut cakes were delicious, so she instructed Auntie Li to send a portion to the guest.

As soon as Jiang Huiqi left, a twenty-something girl came in from outside, bursting in and complaining that she was starving. She said to Auntie Li, "Mom, my friend is here—give me some chestnut cakes."

This was Auntie Li's daughter, Sun Miao.

Sun Miao was twenty years old this year. Both her parents worked for the Han family—her father had been Old Master Han’s bodyguard and hadn’t retired yet, while her mother, Auntie Li, was the family cook. Since they held two positions, they were given two back rooms by the gate of the Han residence as their quarters. Sun Miao had practically grown up in Shijia Hutong and, being around the same age as the younger generation of the Han family, was treated as family, coming and going freely in the inner courtyard.

Auntie Li said, "But Huiqi just asked me to serve the guest. There aren’t many chestnut cakes left in the kitchen, and I need to save some for the old master."

"What guest?"

"The girl who came in earlier with Lingling."

Sun Miao had wanted to use the reception room but found it already occupied, which had already rubbed her the wrong way. Now, hearing that chestnut cakes were also being sent there, that really got under her skin. It wasn't really about the cakes, but she just had to make an issue of it.

"What classmate?"

"That Xu girl." Auntie Li thought for a moment. "Seems like she used to come over often when she was little."

"Xu Meng?" Why was she back? They hadn’t kept in touch for such a long time. How did she end up hanging out with Han Lingling again?

"Mom, my friend is important too. Her dad is the principal of No. 17 High School. This kind of connection is good for my network."

"But Lingling—"

"Han Lingling doesn’t even eat these things. Just send over these Yundou Rolls instead. If Auntie Jiang asks, say you made a mistake and the chestnut cakes were all gone."

"But the Yundou Rolls were made yesterday. In this heat, they're probably stale."

"It's fine. Lingling won't eat them anyway." Sun Miao waved it away. "If anyone asks, just say there weren’t enough chestnut cakes left and the rest were saved for the old master."

When it came to choosing between her daughter and an outsider, Auntie Li didn’t hesitate—she chose her daughter.

A box of Yundou Rolls was sent to Han Lingling.

Coincidentally, the two girls were caught up in their chat and didn’t notice the details. Han Lingling happened to be hungry, so she glanced at the plate, took a piece for herself, and then pushed the plate toward Xu Meng: "I’ve gained over twenty pounds since starting high school. If I keep eating like this, I’ll probably hit thirty by graduation. It’s terrifying, but I get so hungry it’s distracting."

Han Lingling frowned after one bite—the Yundou Roll tasted stale, maybe because it had been sitting out too long.

Seeing Han Lingling stop eating, Xu Meng helped herself to a few more pieces. "How is your English not good? I thought someone from your family would naturally do well in English."

"Why wouldn’t I have trouble? Many of our middle school teachers barely understood the subject themselves before teaching it. The high school teachers are better, but my foundation is weak, so catching up is hard. My mom’s been worried sick, hiring one tutor after another. It's helped a little, but not much. I’m more curious about how your English is so good." And her pronunciation sounded like she’d studied abroad.

Xu Meng’s speaking and listening skills were honed by watching British and American shows. In her previous life, she had no trouble communicating overseas.

Besides, Feng Yanwen’s English was truly excellent. She often had Xu Meng listen to BBC recordings to train her ear. British and American accents differed, and now Xu Meng’s speech tended toward a British accent, just like what the textbooks required.

"My mom used to be an English teacher," Xu Meng said, tossing the last bit of Yundou Roll into her mouth. She couldn’t finish it—there were still a few pieces left on the plate.

"My mom taught me the basics and played me a lot of recordings, so out of all my subjects, English is the one I’m most confident in. Math and Chinese are my weak points."

Han Lingling slouched dramatically in her chair as if struck by something terrible, lamenting, "You can memorize Chinese, drill math problems, but English is the worst."

Xu Meng grimaced. "Memorizing’s no picnic either. You have no idea what a pain classical Chinese is to memorize."

The two glanced at each other and laughed.

They also set up a time to study together later. Xu Meng wanted to come by in the evening to practice problems, since the lighting at her place wasn’t good enough for her to read at night.

“That works, but I’m just worried it’ll be inconvenient for you to go back late.”

Xu Meng: “No problem. The whole way is busy, and I won’t cut through any side streets.”

The Shijia Hutong neighborhood didn’t have many residents. Beyond it was the train station, where plenty of people were on duty at night. The only quiet part was the alley leading to her home. But after living there for a month, she noticed that while the house was run-down, the area was actually safe. As she chatted with Han Lingling and walked toward the gate, they happened to meet Sun Miao, who was seeing off a guest.

Sun Miao was walking with a woman in her twenties. She looked scholarly, slightly plump, and wore gold-rimmed glasses.

Han Lingling pouted unhappily and leaned closer to Xu Meng, whispering, “Sun Miao introduced her friend to tutor me, but I didn’t want it. She even complained to my mom about it. She’s so full of herself, acting like she’s my superior.”

Xu Meng: “Is her father still working for your grandfather?”

Han Lingling nodded. “Still hasn’t retired. How come he hasn’t retired yet!”

He had a formal government job with decent rank and benefits.

Han Lingling: “But he’s considered an old-timer. After leaving the military, he got assigned to my grandfather’s staff. I really wish her parents would retire soon and move out of our place.”

Then she felt bad saying that and added, “Actually, the house was allocated to them, and ownership still belongs to the state. Once my grandfather’s gone, the house goes back. As for Sun Miao, her parents’ rank isn’t high enough—once they retire, they’ll have to give up the house.”

“Our family has bought our own place, but Grandpa is used to living here and won’t move. Once he passes, we’ll probably move out.” She’d grown up in Shijia Hutong, so the idea of moving someday made her a little sad.

Xu Meng, however, thought the woman looked familiar and asked, “What’s her name? She looks familiar.”

Han Lingling tried hard to remember but couldn’t, so she gave up. “She teaches English. I can’t recall her name. Her dad wanted to use my dad’s connections for a promotion. I told my mom it wasn’t worth owing a favor for something that might not even pan out.”

“My uncle taught me to say that.” She looked proud. “At first, when I said I didn’t want her as a tutor, my mom scolded me. But after I explained it this way, she agreed. My uncle’s pretty slick, right?”

It wasn’t worth owing a favor for something this small.

As they talked, they reached the main gate. Xu Meng stopped and waved Han Lingling off.

The four of them met at the gate, and the woman with Sun Miao still looked familiar. Xu Meng stared at her a few times but still couldn’t place her.

Sun Miao, however, walked straight up to her, glanced at the books in her hands, and sneered, “You’re actually studying?”

Xu Meng studied her for a moment, noticing the school-branded bag she was carrying, and replied, “What else would I be doing? You think I’m here to mess around?”

Sun Miao: “Getting into college isn’t easy. The admission rate’s super low every year. Do you know who this kid is? Teacher Feng’s daughter. She and her mom spent the whole summer selling watermelons at the train station. With that half-hearted effort, you think she can actually study well?” She directed this at the woman beside her.

“You’ve been watching me?”

Xu Meng was surprised and looked at the woman again.

She wouldn’t even look her in the eye—totally stuck-up.

Birds of a feather—no wonder she and Sun Miao get along. Xu Meng had often played there as a kid and knew Sun Miao well. She always acted like she was better than everyone.

She prided herself on growing up in Shijia Hutong, choosing friends based on background and looking down on people from Big Locust Tree, which she thought was a sketchy, low-class area.

Earlier, while seeing someone off at the train station, Sun Miao had seen Xu Meng selling watermelons—looking like a total mess. Even in that state, she’d still try to climb up. Classic Big Locust Tree behavior—cheap and scheming.

“I’m just saying,” Sun Miao went on, “there’s nothing wrong with trying hard, but you should know your limits. Lingling, seriously, do you even know what she does? She spent the whole summer selling watermelons at the train station. A street vendor like her—you think she’s got time to study? You need to be more careful who you hang out with. Some people will grab any chance to worm their way into our lives.” She probably quit school ages ago—why bother pretending now?

Han Lingling was livid. Who did Sun Miao think she was, daring to claim to be family?

Of course, part of the reason was that the Han family had always treated her well, but Sun Miao's arrogance was selective—she only acted high and mighty when adults weren't around.

Xu Meng sneered, "What's wrong with being self-employed? What's wrong with selling watermelons? Looking down on working-class people like this—do you have some ideological problem? Lingling, don't be angry, this has nothing to do with you."

She expected Sun Miao to argue back, but the other girl clammed up.

Just as she was about to ask why the sudden change, she saw Han Jiming coming down the hallway.

Xu Meng seemed to realize something. She glanced at Sun Miao and, sure enough, saw her go quiet, her eyes fixed on Han Jiming.

Han Jiming smiled and said lightly, "Still talking about the watermelon-selling thing? Last time, you even borrowed my motorcycle to transport them. Carrying such heavy stuff yourself—what were you thinking?"

He said it like it was no big deal, as if borrowing his motorcycle for watermelons was completely normal.

At this, Sun Miao looked ready to explode.

Was he calling her out? For someone he barely knew? Sun Miao tried to defend herself: "Jiming, that's not what I meant—"

"Xu Meng," Han Jiming suddenly spoke up, "Can you get back on your own?"

Xu Meng knew he was having her back. Suppressing a laugh, she replied, "I can."

Han Jiming nodded. "Forget it. I’m heading out anyway—let’s go together."

Leaving behind everyone gaping after them, they walked out together.

Xu Meng kept her head down, holding back her laughter until they reached the next intersection, where she finally burst into giggles. It was rare to see Sun Miao so thoroughly put in her place, and she felt exhilarated, making no effort to hide her emotions—especially when Han Jiming had said they’d leave together, and Sun Miao’s face had turned as dark as the bottom of a burnt pan.

Han Jiming turned to look at her, his eyes bright, the corners of his lips curling up. "What's so funny?"

"You should've seen her face!"

"I didn’t even look at her."

"..." Hahahaha, that made it even funnier. Xu Meng thought of a possibility but hesitated, biting her tongue before asking.

Han Jiming watched her hesitate, then give up, finding it dull. For a moment, neither spoke.

"I thought you'd dropped out," Han Jiming said lazily. "Still in school?"

Xu Meng pressed her lips together. "I'm in the same grade as Han Lingling..." Did he think she'd quit school?

"Alright, study hard." Han Jiming raised his brows slightly, his tone meaningful. "Prove the doubters wrong."

This guy was something else—was he telling her to humiliate Sun Miao?

————

Han Jiming killed time near the train station before heading home, where dinner was already being prepared.

Jiang Huiqi spotted him immediately and said, "Where have you been hiding? We’ve been looking for you! And Xiao Wuer too—it’s this late, and she didn’t even stay for dinner with her classmate."

Han Jiming thought for a moment. "She'd feel awkward. Not everyone wants to stay for a meal at our house."

Jiang Huiqi was setting the table, not looking up as she continued, "That’s true. I remember that child was always very polite, bolting right when it's time to eat. Definitely well-mannered from a proper family. Anyway, why are you still standing there? Go call your father for dinner."

Old Master Han was already in his seventies, but he was still going strong—he could eat two heaping bowls of rice per meal, along with half a bowl of braised pork. He was old-fashioned that way; every meal required the whole family to be present before anyone could start eating.

Han Jiming walked toward the back and had just reached the door of the reception room when he saw Wang Jie coming out. His gaze swept over the plate in her hands. "What's this?"

Wang Jie replied, "These were served to the guests earlier this afternoon."

Han Jiming glanced at them and picked up a pastry to eat.

Wang Jie panicked. "Don’t eat those! I think these are from yesterday."

As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Serving guests day-old pastries was highly improper.

She had meant to serve chestnut cakes, but when she turned around, the plate had disappeared. Then Auntie Li said she’d take care of it and told her not to worry.

It wasn’t until she was cleaning up that she realized that the plate sent out contained yesterday’s pastries.

In this sweltering summer heat, with temperatures unbearably high, pastries left unrefrigerated would spoil by the next day. Who would serve that to guests?

Han Jiming’s eyes turned sharp as knives.

Seeing Wang Jie silent, her head bowed even lower, his tone grew harsher. "Why were yesterday’s pastries served to guests?"

Now, Auntie Wang didn’t even dare raise her head at all.

The kitchen was shared between her and Auntie Li. Auntie Li had seniority, and Wang Jie preferred feigning ignorance to crossing her. Han Jiming seemed to realize something and asked, "Did Sun Miao also host guests earlier?"

Normally, Sun Miao entertained guests at her own place or in the front courtyard rooms, but today was an exception—she had brought them to another reception room in the back courtyard.

That was strictly forbidden.

But having grown up in the household, occasionally bringing a guest into the front courtyard was something no one would seriously reprimand her for.

The back rooms and front courtyard were connected, and that area also served as staff quarters—where the housekeepers, drivers, and guards lived. Their families seldom hosted guests in the Han residence, let alone eat from the family’s kitchen. Only Auntie Li had leeway—her husband had served Old Master Han for decades.

Wang Jie’s voice was barely audible. "The guest Sun Miao hosted was Lingling’s tutor."

What kind of tutor? Han Lingling had outright refused one.

But Sun Miao? Using the Han residence to entertain her own guests, taking the family’s pastries to serve them, and giving spoiled food to the household members—who knew if this was a one-time slip or a recurring issue? Once was already unacceptable.

Han Jiming suddenly thought of something else and strode quickly toward the dining room.

Old Master Han had already taken his seat at the head of the table, and the rest of the family were in their usual places.

Dinner had been delayed waiting for him, and Old Master Han’s irritation was plain. Just as he was about to scold Han Jiming for his hurried entrance, he saw him walk swiftly to the dining table, his gaze darkening as it landed on the large pot of chicken soup placed before the old man.

"Jiming, sit down and eat," Jiang Huiqi cut in, trying to smooth things over before Old Master Han lost his temper.

Old Master Han grumbled, "The whole family is waiting for you. Where’s your sense of propriety?"

"Father," Han Jiming cut in, "there’s been a breach of household rules. I’m handling it now, and I’d like you to give me a moment to explain."

The atmosphere in the room instantly grew tense. Han Lingling, who had been about to pick up her chopsticks, froze mid-motion and looked at him, mouthing, *What happened?* What could possibly be so urgent that her uncle would disrupt dinner?

Han Jiming usually didn’t seem like a serious person, but the family knew he was dependable. He seldom raised issues at mealtime—who’d spoil the meal like this?

"The household rules have been broken," Han Jiming said, scanning the dining room. Not seeing the person he was looking for, he added, "Call Auntie Li here."

Auntie Li was one of the most senior staff members, and given her husband’s long-standing service to Old Master Han, she carried significant weight in the household. Han Jiming, whom she had watched grow up, had always spoken to her politely—rarely with such severity.

Wang Jie seemed to understand what was happening but hadn’t expected Han Jiming to address it before dinner. She rushed to the kitchen, where Auntie Li was already gathering her things to leave.

"Auntie Li, they're calling for you in the front."

Auntie Li raised her head slightly but still put down what she was holding. Only when Old Master occasionally liked a dish would he call her over to ask a few questions.

"Alright, I'll go after washing my hands."

"You'd better hurry over." Seeing her wash her hands unhurriedly, Sister Wang urged her.

Auntie Li's temper flared instantly. She tossed the hand towel carelessly by the sink and snapped, "What’s the big deal that you’re nagging me like this? I heard you, I heard you!"

Sister Wang had meant to give her a friendly reminder, but seeing how quick she was to anger, she swallowed her words.

Forget it. Let her be.

When Auntie Li arrived at the dining room, she noticed the Han family hadn’t eaten yet, and the atmosphere was unusually tense. She gave Old Master a slight bow. "Old Master, did you need me for something?"

The family was usually so easygoing; they had never been this serious before.

As soon as Sister Wang left, Han Jiming had briefly explained what had happened. He'd always been quicker than most, with an exceptional ability to articulate things clearly in just a few words. Though the matter of the Yundou Roll seemed trivial, it revealed how sloppy the household management had gotten.

With so many people living under one roof, some things needed to be clarified.

Part of the Han family’s ingredients came from the procurement department for officials’ households, but the quantities were fixed—no more, no less. The rest had to be covered by the family’s own expenses. The work unit sure wasn’t footing the bill for feeding so many extra mouths.

The old master lived off his salary and some manuscript fees, nothing more. It wasn’t enough to support such a large household, so the second son’s branch had to chip in, while the help got meals as part of their job—but separate from the family’s meals. These were the rules, established since the household was first set up.

Using family pastries for personal guests—even Jiang Huiqi hit the roof when she heard.

The nerve of Sun Miao!

Of course, Old Master couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Jiang Huiqi’s face was cold as she said, "Auntie Li, you’ve been with this household a long time. This afternoon, I asked for chestnut cakes to be served to our guests. Why did you send Yundou Rolls instead? And those rolls were leftovers from yesterday. We don’t do leftovers—you know the household rules."

Though the Han family was well-off, they lived only slightly better than regular folks. They prepared one type of pastry each day, in fixed quantities. After setting aside a portion for Old Master, any leftovers were brought to the dinner table to be finished. Meals were planned based on the number of people—four or five dishes with soup—and they cleaned their plates. Waste was not tolerated.

Auntie Li’s expression darkened instantly. "Must’ve been a mix-up. I didn’t get it straight—I thought I was supposed to serve that teacher."

Jiang Huiqi’s face hardened. "Whether it was a misunderstanding or not, you know the truth. Regarding Teacher Jiang, I’ve already said I don’t think she’s suitable and there’s no need for her to come back. Ask yourself—whose guest was she really?"

Auntie Li, no fool, knew better than to argue at this point. She quickly admitted fault. "It was my mistake. I’ll talk to Sun Miao about it. She probably just felt awkward hosting Teacher Jiang in the front—"

Jiang Huiqi’s impatience showed on her face.

She was usually easygoing, but that didn’t mean she could be pushed around without limits.

Sun Miao might be familiar with the family, but she wasn’t truly part of it. Jiang Huiqi had been too lenient, treating her like one of her own children—Han Cheng, Han Jiming—and that had given Sun Miao ideas too big for her britches.

"Fine. You make sure she gets it—the household has its rules. She should remember who the real masters of this house are."

Who did Jiang Huiqi think she was, daring to speak to her like this? Auntie Li’s eyes flashed with resentment as she looked at Old Master, but even he wasn’t as cordial as usual.

"Old Master, you know me—I’ve been with this family for years. Of course I know the rules. To scold me over a plate of pastries—I won’t accept this. They say no job is beneath dignity. I may be the family cook, but this is a socialist society. I’m also a unit employee assigned to take care of your daily needs. Who do you think you’re talking to?"

Now she was pulling the victim card, flaunting her seniority!

Jiang Huiqi had tried reasoning with her, but Auntie Li was acting downright shameless.

"So what you’re saying is, from now on, you’ll only cook for my father—is that it?"

"If you insist on seeing it that way, then I guess you're right," Auntie Li said with displeasure. "Out of all the cooks in the unit, I have the most work. I have to cook for so many people in this household, and also prepare meals for all those staff members. I just don’t have the good fortune like someone like Fang Ping—those lucky ones only need to cook for two elders. I’m the one who works hard but gets no appreciation, only complaints. But normally I don’t let things bother me—if you don’t want me to do it, then I won’t. I’ve got my pension anyway; I don’t need to beg you."

Fang Ping was a housekeeper for another leader’s family, where the household was small and she only had to care for two elderly people.

Jiang Huiqi was almost laughing in frustration.

After all, if it hadn't been for the old master promoting her, she would have known nothing about cooking when she first came here. It was the old master who arranged for the previous head chef to train her, and later even secured her a permanent staff position so she could receive a pension in her later years.

As for cooking duties, some people are lucky enough to be assigned to households with just two elderly people who have no children, while others end up cooking for large families. If you’re willing to do the job, fine; if not, no one's forcing you. And if you have complaints about your post, you’re free to request a transfer.

Just because you feel overworked and treated unfairly, does that give you the right to help yourself to the family’s belongings?

After all these years, who knows how much she's helped herself to from this household?