They were indeed somewhat tired. After Xiao Wanqing and Lin Xian had lunch together and watched some TV in the living room to digest, they exchanged good afternoons and each returned to their own bedroom for a midday nap.

  That nap was unusually sweet, and it felt like time had stretched endlessly. When Lin Xian groggily awoke, the sky outside her window had already dimmed into twilight. Aside from the rustling of leaves in the wind and rain, everything else was silent.

  Turning her head to glance at the clock on her nightstand, she saw it was already past five in the evening.

  Still a little dazed, she rubbed her eyes and sat up, getting out of bed to look for Xiao Wanqing. She wasn’t sure if Aunt Xiao was up yet—if not, she could start preparing dinner.

  As she stepped out of her room, she glanced into Aunt Xiao’s bedroom and saw the door wide open. It looked like she had already gotten up.

  Sure enough, after walking a few more steps, she heard the faint clinks of pots and bowls coming from the kitchen. The sounds were a bit dull and muffled, as if something was off. Following the noise, she walked toward the kitchen. Just as she reached the doorway, she called out softly, her voice still husky with sleep, “Aunt Xiao…”

  Xiao Wanqing was sorting vegetables. Hearing the voice, she turned around and saw the girl standing there, head slightly tilted, her hair messy from sleep, and a gentle smile on her lips.

  With a touch of guilt in her voice, she asked, “Did I wake you?”

  Lin Xian walked in and sat on her little chair in the corner—her usual spot—smiling with eyes curved, and shook her head. “No, I woke up naturally,” she said cheerfully. Then, curious, she added, “What are you making? What’s for dinner?”

  At her question, a trace of helplessness appeared on Xiao Wanqing’s gentle face. She glanced at the rice cooker and sighed. “I was thinking, since you’re still recovering from a cold, something light would be better—so I was planning on making some porridge and a couple of simple dishes.”

  Lin Xian beamed and stood up with a grin. “Sounds great! I’ll help you then.” She washed her hands and got ready to assist.

  But Xiao Wanqing continued, “But… the porridge isn’t cooking.”

  “Huh? Why not? Is the rice cooker broken?” Lin Xian paused, confused.

  Xiao Wanqing blinked and pointed upward at the ceiling light with her slender index finger. “Take a guess.”

  Lin Xian had just reached her hand toward the vegetable bowl when she froze, looking first at Xiao Wanqing, then at the unlit light. Suddenly, she had a realization. “Oh! The power’s out?”

  It wasn’t surprising she hadn’t noticed—she had come straight out to look for Xiao Wanqing upon waking and hadn’t paid attention to whether there was power or not. But now that she thought about it, it was odd—dusk had already fallen, and Xiao Wanqing was in the kitchen without the light on, which clearly wasn’t normal. Power outages were pretty common after big typhoons; she just didn’t know how long this one would last.

  Xiao Wanqing’s cool hand gently covered Lin Xian’s warm one, her tone affectionate as she said, “Silly girl…” Then, she pulled Lin Xian’s hand out of the bowl. “I’m almost done with the prep. Don’t touch cold water—it’s not good for you. Does your head still hurt? When you first fell asleep, I checked your temperature—it’s gone down. Want me to check again?”

  But Lin Xian was stuck on something else. She blinked her wide deer-like eyes, surprised. “You checked my temperature earlier? I didn’t even feel it!”

  Xiao Wanqing rinsed the vegetables again and teased her, “That’s because you slept like a little piglet.” She had guessed Lin Xian was usually a light sleeper—after all, she'd been woken up last night by just a small sound. But today, she must’ve been truly exhausted to sleep so deeply.

  Lin Xian pouted, then took a step back dramatically, crossing her arms with mock indignation. “That’s so dangerous for me!”

  Xiao Wanqing responded absentmindedly, “Hmm?”

  With a blink and a pout, Lin Xian grumbled playfully, “Now that you know my secret—that I sleep really deeply—what if you take advantage of me in my sleep someday…” Her voice dipped into an exaggerated, syrupy tone, like a melodramatic little girl’s, making Xiao Wanqing’s brows twitch.

  “Take advantage of you?”

  Xiao Wanqing repeated the words slowly, emphasizing them. Her hand, still holding a spatula, paused slightly mid-motion. Turning her head, she gave Lin Xian a long, pointed look—as if seeing her in a new light. Her eyes scanned her from top to bottom, from her crossed arms… to her completely flat chest.

  Then, all of a sudden, she burst out laughing with a loud pfft.

  Now Lin Xian was indignant. She put her hands on her hips, stamping her foot in mock anger. “Aunt Xiao! What kind of look was that?!”

  Xiao Wanqing couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from curving up even more. She tried to rein in her laughter, her graceful face flushing slightly from the effort. After a few moments, she finally managed to calm herself down and replied, feigning composure, “Nothing.” But after a pause, her eyes flicked back to Lin Xian, that usual gentle look now tinged with mischief. “Do you like papaya? I’ll go buy some next time—make you papaya pork rib soup. How does that sound?”

  “…"

  Lin Xian froze, then flushed red. Without warning, she launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around Xiao Wanqing, burying her face in her elbow. With her pointy chin, she jabbed into her in protest. “Aunt Xiao! You’re bullying me!!”

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  Xiao Wanqing had slowly gotten used to Lin Xian’s frequent affectionate gestures, but she still tensed up a little at the sudden hug. Then, she relaxed.

  She reached out and gently ruffled the soft hair on Lin Xian’s head. “I’m not. Xianxian, don’t be shy—it’s something every girl goes through.” Though she had been teasing a little, she was also genuinely concerned. When she had been Lin Xian’s age, her own mother had secretly bought tons of papaya, cooking it in every way imaginable to coax her into eating more. Back then, she didn’t understand. Looking back now, her mother had been truly thoughtful.

  At the thought, a wave of sadness suddenly washed over Xiao Wanqing.

  Mom… my mom…

  She inhaled quietly, a barely perceptible sniffle, but her nose had already started to sting.

  Though it was soft, Lin Xian heard it. She immediately sensed something had changed—Xiao Wanqing, still in her embrace, seemed… suddenly a little sad. Lifting her face from Xiao Wanqing’s arm, she looked at her carefully—and saw that the smile from her lips had completely vanished. Her gentle brows were now shadowed with faint sorrow.

  Stunned for a moment, Lin Xian finally spoke in a soft, cautious voice, “Aunt Xiao… what’s wrong?”

  Xiao Wanqing’s warm eyes met Lin Xian’s clear gaze. She forced a small smile, shaking her head lightly to reassure her. “It’s nothing.”

  She turned on the gas stove, poured in the oil. As it heated, it began to sizzle and crackle. Yet the atmosphere in the kitchen had suddenly thickened, as though frozen in place.

  “…I just suddenly thought of my mom,” she said, her voice as gentle as always, but carrying something heavier beneath the surface.

  Lin Xian pressed her lips together, unsure of what to say.

  She was, in fact, a little curious. Over the years, though she hadn’t seen much of Xiao Wanqing, she had heard bits and pieces about her from her mother and grandfather.

  She knew that Xiao Wanqing’s parents had passed away in a car accident, just days before the Lunar New Year, a few years back.

  But what Lin Xian didn’t know was why, all those years ago, Xiao Wanqing had argued so fiercely with her parents. She didn’t know why, in the years that followed, Wanqing no longer came with Grandpa and Grandma Xiao to their house for New Year’s dinner. She didn’t know why her grandpa had always kept quiet, refusing to tell her mother what had really happened that year to make the Xiao family nearly fall apart.

  Just as she was still hesitating, unsure of how to comfort Xiao Wanqing, Xiao Wanqing had already collected herself. Her tone returned to its usual bright and natural rhythm as she turned her head and asked, “There’s not much left in the fridge—just some noodles I can make. It might be a little simple. Don’t mind it, okay?”

  Lin Xian looked at her warm, easy smile and suddenly felt a little sting in her chest. This elegant woman always faced others with her best self. All these years… had she always been like this, pushing herself through everything? Maybe someone could share in her joys, but no one had ever shared in her sorrows.

  And now, there was nothing Lin Xian could do. She had always been perceptive, emotionally sharp from a young age. Deep down, she knew: no matter how gentle and sincere Xiao Wanqing had been with her, the truth was, they weren’t that close—not yet. Xiao Wanqing hadn’t fully let down her guard. And that guard wasn’t about anything specific, really. It just felt like a natural form of emotional self-protection. Perhaps even with her own mother, Zhou Qin, Xiao Wanqing might not have ever truly let it go.

  So Lin Xian did the only thing she could—pretend not to notice, pretend she hadn’t sensed anything. She went along with Wanqing’s change of subject, letting that moment of heaviness pass by gently. She matched her light tone with cheerful compliance. “It’s totally fine! Aunty Xiao, your cooking is literally the best I’ve ever had. Whatever you make, I’ll think it’s delicious.”

  Xiao Wanqing tossed a handful of noodles into the pot, a faint dimple appearing as her lips curled up slightly. Her voice carried a rare trace of playfulness as she teased, “You’re such a sweet-talker. But that doesn’t sound like the truth at all.”

  Lin Xian wouldn’t have that. She instantly cried injustice, reaching out to pull Wanqing’s left hand—the one not holding the spatula—gently over to her chest, laying it over her own heart. Her eyes curved into a smile as she looked at her earnestly. “You don’t believe me? Feel my heartbeat. Isn’t it behaving perfectly well and politely telling you, ‘Whatever Aunty Xiao cooks, little Lin xian will find it delicious’?”

  At first, Xiao Wanqing was suddenly pulled by Lin Xian and had her hand pressed against her soft chest. Her hand felt as if it had been burned, and she subconsciously wanted to pull it back in a fluster. The next second, she saw the young girl looking at her with dark and sparkling eyes, clear and bright, a radiant smile blooming within them. She steadied her mind, let out a breath of relief, calmed down, and really did seriously feel the rhythm of Lin Xian's heartbeat for a moment before slowly withdrawing her hand, teasing her, “To me, it sounded more like, ‘Don’t trust little Lin Xian, she’s just a little rascal…’”

  Lin Xian burst into a fit of laughter, then immediately switched to a dramatic, teary-eyed pout. She sniffled and whined, “Aunty Xiao, you said you couldn’t hear my sincerity… I’m so heartbroken, what should I do? My poor little heart, it hurts so much…”

  Xiao Wanqing couldn’t help smiling as she listened to the girl carrying on with her dramatic solo act. The corners of her lips kept curving higher and higher. She pretended not to hear Lin Xian’s exaggerated sighs of sorrow as she moved gracefully to turn off the heat, grab some bowls and chopsticks, and scoop out a steaming portion of noodles just for her. Holding the bowl with both hands, she placed it in front of the girl and said gently, “Alright, that’s enough now. Hungry? Let’s eat.”

  Lin Xian pouted even harder. She stomped her foot and huffed in mock indignation, “You didn’t even care that I was heartbroken. All you care about is your noodles!” But even as she spoke, she obediently took the bowl from Xiao Wanqing, eyes lighting up as she breathed in the fragrant steam.

  Xiao Wanqing chuckled and served herself a bowl as well, reminding her softly, “Those noodles are yours.”

  “Hmph!”

  In truth, Lin Xian was starting to feel genuinely hungry. She stayed put, waiting for Xiao Wanqing to finish up so they could go to the dining room together. But she couldn’t resist leaning down to take a sip of the hot soup. The flavor hit her all at once, and she was instantly conquered. Content and satisfied, she declared graciously, “Delicious! Aunty Xiao, for your great effort and selfless labor, I shall forgive you for breaking my heart just now.”

  Xiao Wanqing’s eyes shimmered with a mix of indulgence and helplessness. She playfully surrendered, “Yes yes yes, thank you, Lady little Lin Xian, for being so gracious and forgiving of us mere mortals. Come on, let’s go.”

  Lin Xian grinned back at her, flashing a row of bright, pearly teeth. Then she turned and led the way into the dining room.

  The sky had fully darkened. Everything outside was draped in deep shades of grey and black. Without anyone speaking, a quiet kind of silence settled over the place—a heavy stillness.

  Xiao Wanqing looked at the girl’s slender silhouette walking away, and for no reason at all, her heart felt full.

  So full of life.

  Over the years, she had been to plenty of lavish places, dazzling with lights, full of crowds and grandeur. They were big, beautiful, bustling. But none of that noise ever really belonged to her.

  Now, in this small hush of darkness, Lin Xian stood there like a flickering little flame, casting a dim, warm light. It wasn’t dazzling. But it lit up this tiny corner of the world.

  This liveliness was small.

  But it was real.

  And it was hers.

  Hers alone.