The summer night breeze drifted in through the half-open window, carrying the faint, barely-bloomed fragrance of gardenias from the back courtyard—light and wispy, settling softly in the room.
The room was quiet, save for the soft clatter of Xie Yushu’s abacus beads.
She pored over the ledgers, flipping through the pages carefully—not just her own workshop accounts, but the Su Family Bun Shop’s as well.
When she’d had enough, she set down the books, propped her chin on one hand, and rubbed her tired eyes. Then her gaze drifted, almost unconsciously, to Su Chi.
He sat on the edge of the bed, a delicate chest at his feet, lined with pieces of insect-repellent fragrant wood. The faint scent of herbs mingled with the wood’s aroma, seeping out little by little.
He was folding Tuan Tuan’s tiny clothes, smoothing each one’s corners flat before arranging them neatly in the chest.
Everything related to the child and to her, Su Chi insisted on doing himself—especially personal items. He never tired of it.
The flickering candlelight traced a gentle outline on his lowered face—too beautiful for words.
Xie Yushu closed the ledgers and moved quietly behind him without a sound. She didn’t speak—just leaned in and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in the crook of his neck, her voice carrying a hint of weariness: “Almost done?”
Su Chi kept folding the garment in his hands, not stopping, but tilted his head slightly to touch her cheek, pressing his face to her forehead in an intimate, natural gesture—one they’d done a hundred times before. His voice was gentle: “Almost.”
“Why does the little one have so many clothes?” They were covering the whole bed.
Su Chi smiled, quickening his hands as he explained: “Summer’s here—Tuan Tuan loves to play, running all over the house. He needs at least two outfit changes a day. Father had a bunch of little clothes made for him. I already packed one chest—this is the second.”
His unhurried tone made it sound like the most ordinary thing.
Xie Yushu moved to help, but the moment her fingers touched the fabric, Su Chi gently swatted her hand away.
“Don’t worry about this. Go lie down and rest—I’ll be done soon.”
She didn’t move, just held him tighter, putting on a pitiful act: “Are you saying I’m in the way? Or that I’m clumsy?”
He was pinned in her arms, but he didn’t mind. A soft smile played on his lips: “It’s not that. This isn’t your job. You go out every day and run a whole household—that’s hard enough. I can’t let you do these things too.”
His gentle words melted her bones. She clung to him, unwilling to let go.
Then she let her gaze roam over him without shame, inch by inch across his face.
Su Chi was still Su Chi—the one she could never hold enough. But having become a father, there was something new in him.
His brow no longer held the simplicity of youth—it had gained a warm, settled calm, born of raising a child and sharing a life. There was a gentle fatherly depth to him now, as soft and comforting as the cloth he folded. Once touched, you never wanted to let go.
He seemed softer, more tender than before—so much so that she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
Su Chi finally finished, closing the chest. Before he could straighten up, he was pulled into a warm embrace and met with a flurry of kisses—from the back of his neck to his soft earlobe, eager and impatient.
“Mm—”
“No…” Su Chi turned his head, trying to push her arm away, but it wouldn’t budge. He pleaded softly: “Tuan Tuan will be back soon.”
Xie Yushu’s lips brushed his ear, her voice coaxing: “He’s having his milk. After that, he’ll want to swing with Xiuwei, then go find his grandfather—he’ll be a while yet.”
As she spoke, her fingers traced down his collar, stopping at his waist, lingering there: “We have time.”
Since Tuan Tuan was born, their intimate moments had grown fewer.
The baby had always slept in the same room as them—he had his own little bed, but he’d insist on squeezing in between them.
Su Chi doted on him and gave in. And Xie Yushu, rarely home during the day, felt she owed Tuan Tuan time, so she indulged him too—whatever he wanted, she’d go along with.
Su Chi missed her too. His resistance faded. He let himself be laid down on the bed.
Just as their passions began to rise, a childish voice called from outside: “Mama! Baba! Tuan Tuan is back—”
The door wasn’t locked. Tuan Tuan was patting it urgently, his little hands quick and loud. The two of them shot upright, hearts pounding, breath quick—caught off guard.
Tuan Tuan was too small to open the door, so he just kept urging Xiuwei: “Open it, open it!”
“Wait a moment, little master.” Xiuwei held him back, holding his little toy in one hand, now sweating himself, praying the two inside would hurry up.
Soon, the door opened from inside.
Xie Yushu crouched down and scooped up the little milk-bundle, taking the cloth tiger Su Chi had sewn from Xiuwei, and sent him off to rest.
“Mama~” Tuan Tuan said sweetly, his little arms wrapping around her shoulders.
“Sweetheart.” The tension on Xie Yushu’s face melted away the moment she saw her precious baby.
Seeing that face—so much like his father’s—all the previous awkwardness vanished in an instant.
“Mama… wouldn’t open the door?”
Tuan Tuan could speak now, though not yet clearly—simple sentences, mostly. He was asking why she hadn’t opened the door just now.
Xie Yushu lied to the child without the slightest flicker of guilt, pinching his little cheek: “Mama and Baba were both asleep.”
Tuan Tuan let out a soft “ah,” then giggled silently and said nothing more.
She placed the child on the bed, relieved they hadn’t gone any further.
Su Chi was now fully under the covers, pulling them up to hide half his face.
Overwhelmed with embarrassment, he tugged the blanket higher.
Tuan Tuan wriggled into his father’s arms with practiced ease and wrapped his little arms around his neck: “Baba~”
“Cold?” Tuan Tuan tilted his head curiously, noticing his father bundled up tightly.
But it was so warm outside—he felt hot.
Su Chi took a moment to compose himself, then steadied Tuan Tuan on his lap, supporting his bottom. He told his first lie to his child: “Yes, Baba was a little cold just now. But now that I’m holding Tuan Tuan, I’m not cold anymore.”
Tuan Tuan snuggled into his father’s chest, sweetly smiling. Su Chi took the handkerchief Xie Yushu handed him and wiped his baby’s brow.
Tuan Tuan wore a pale yellow fine-cotton undershirt, with plump little arms and soft, creamy-white skin so thin you could see the delicate veins beneath.
He was every bit the baby—soft and plump all over. Su Chi couldn’t get enough of holding him.
“Didn’t you go see Grandfather?”
Tuan Tuan clutched his father’s shirt: “Grandfather sleepy. Tuan Tuan can’t bother him sleeping.”
“Is that so? Tuan Tuan is such a good child.”
Tuan Tuan loved being praised, but always got shy afterward and buried himself in their arms. Tonight was no different.
Knowing Su Chi was still feeling embarrassed, Xie Yushu scooped the milky little bundle into her own arms, giving him a bounce—he’d definitely gained a little weight. “Sweetheart, did you have your milk?”
The little one looked up at his mother and nodded seriously: “Had it! Xiu-wei gave it to me!”
Xie Yushu pretended to sniff for the milky scent on him: “Hmm? Then why can’t Mama smell it?”
“I did! Tuan Tuan did!” The little one clung tightly to her neck, proudly offering her his milk-scented self.
Grandfather always said he smelled like milk—how could she not smell it?
They played together for a while. Then Su Chi helped Tuan Tuan change into fresh clothes, and the family of three finally settled down to sleep.
·
The Tang and Xie children were born only five or six months apart, so the two fulang often got together to chat about parenting.
Jiang Wanxue’s daughter was fair and delicate, taking after him in looks—but her temperament was all Tang Zhiyi.
Other children her age were clingy and demanding of affection, but she didn’t like being held. If you held her too long, she’d wiggle and squirm to get down and walk on her own.
She was softer with her father, but with everyone else—including her mother—she’d just give them a cold, stony stare, silently telling them not to touch her.
Jiang Wanxue said his daughter was like a little adult—two years old with the disposition of a five- or six-year-old. Maybe even more composed than that.
Even her crying was measured. She rarely cried; if she did, she’d wipe her own tears with a handkerchief, her little face stubbornly set against anyone seeing her upset.
It worried him.
Su Chi would often comfort him: “That’s a good thing. Your wife has a fine temperament—if your daughter takes after her, that’s wonderful. I actually hope Tuan Tuan takes after Yushu more than me.”
Jiang Wanxue disagreed: “I think your temperament is wonderful too—what’s wrong with it?”
“Besides, Tuan Tuan is so lovable—everyone adores him. Don’t you find it hard to discipline such a sweet child? I bet you can’t bear to scold him.”
Su Chi laughed and said, “True.”
Just then, Tuan Tuan came trotting over with a plate of freshly made pastries from the kitchen, holding it carefully with both hands.
“Baba and Jiang Fulang, please enjoy~” Tuan Tuan mimicked the way the older servants spoke when guests arrived.
Jiang Wanxue laughed behind his handkerchief. After Tuan Tuan had set the pastries down properly, he couldn’t help but lift him up and hold him close.
Having visited the Xie home often, Tuan Tuan was familiar with this beautiful fulang. He wasn’t shy at all—his little chubby legs kicked in the air as he settled into Jiang Wanxue’s arms.
In his little head, all he knew was that he smelled sweet—just like his father.
Jiang Wanxue held the soft little bundle and sighed: “So sweet—so much softer than my little wooden doll.”
Tuan Tuan blinked his big, watery eyes with curiosity: “Jiang Fulang, who’s Little Wooden Doll?”
They both laughed at the child’s innocent question.
Su Chi took the opportunity to take Tuan Tuan back and put on a rare stern face: “You mustn’t call Sister Tang a little wooden doll.”
Tuan Tuan’s world was still filled with eating, drinking, playing, and being cute at home. He didn’t have a strong impression of the Tang family’s daughter, but he obediently nodded and said, “Okay.”
·
One lunchtime, Xie Yushu couldn’t make it home in time. Su Chi prepared several dishes and had Xie Jiu deliver them. His father had also gone back to the village for a while due to an urgent matter, so it was just Su Chi and Tuan Tuan eating at home.
The night before, Tuan Tuan had curled up in his father’s arms and said he wanted his fried meat. So Su Chi made it happen today.
At noon, he fried a big batch of crispy pork. For Tuan Tuan’s portion, he left out the Sichuan peppercorns and cut the meat into very thin strips—smaller than the adult version.
Children’s mouths were delicate, and he worried about the hard pieces hurting his soft palate. So Su Chi tore each strip in half, blew on them, and placed them in his little bowl: “Eat slowly. Take gentle bites.”
Tuan Tuan picked up his chopsticks and took a bite—the crisp texture and juicy, flavorful meat instantly won him over. His eyes narrowed with pleasure, his little feet swinging happily. Then he smiled sweetly:
“So good, Baba.”
“Baba’s the best.”
“Baba’s cooking is the most fragrant.”
Tuan Tuan was sweet-tongued with everyone, but especially when praising Su Chi—he never held back his love.
His mother always taught him, whispering in his ear, that Baba loved him so much, so he mustn’t fuss or make Baba angry. He should praise Baba every day, so Baba would know how much he loved him too.
Tuan Tuan remembered that well, so he always found new ways to compliment Su Chi.
Su Chi was used to his little one’s praise by now, but it always moved him. He said softly, “Good boy, eat more. Let Baba get you some soup.”
He kept adding food to Tuan Tuan’s bowl, wiping his little mouth, and seeing him eat so happily filled him with more satisfaction than eating himself.
How lucky was he to have such a wonderful child?
Just knowing that the sweetest little one on Hedong Lane was his made Su Chi’s heart overflow with happiness.
His child was perfect in every way—except when being stubborn, which was both exasperating and heartbreaking.
When Tuan Tuan was six or seven months old, Wang Wen had to return to the village to tend to the fields and tell his late wife about Tuan Tuan.
Before he left, Tuan Tuan cried for a long time, big tears streaming down, his little hands clutching his grandfather’s collar, refusing to let go.
Wang Wen was in tears too, holding and soothing the little one for ages. Only when Tuan Tuan had cried himself to sleep did he grit his teeth and slip away.
Just remembering it made Su Chi’s heart ache.
His little one had never cried that hard before.
Thankfully, this time, Tuan Tuan had grown a lot more understanding. He didn’t cry as fiercely—just held the hem of Wang Wen’s clothes and said, “Grandfather, please come back soon. Tuan Tuan will miss you so, so much.”
As Su Chi was lost in thought, Tuan Tuan held up his empty bowl: “Baba, I’m all done!”
Su Chi snapped out of it, patted Tuan Tuan’s head, and couldn’t help praising him: “Tuan Tuan is so good. Xiuwei will take you for a nap later, and when you wake up, we’ll have sweet jujube cakes and mung bean soup with osmanthus honey, okay?”
These were all Tuan Tuan’s favorites. His eyes lit up at the mention, and he nodded eagerly like a little chick.
The evening coolness drifted over the back courtyard wall, brushing against them after dinner—slightly chilly but pleasant.
Xie Yushu and Su Chi walked side by side in the back courtyard to digest their meal.
Tuan Tuan had grown sleepy early and had been taken to bed by Xiuwei, clutching his beloved cloth tiger, with a bit of milk still at the corner of his mouth, sleeping soundly.
The swing, rarely empty, was finally theirs alone.
Xie Yushu made Su Chi sit down and stood behind him, pushing gently: “This swing was made for you, but Tuan Tuan’s taken it over. And you’ve been so busy with the shop—you never have time to sit.”
“I’m not a child—why would I fight Tuan Tuan for it?” Su Chi said, though he did love sitting on it—especially when she was the one pushing.
His feet off the ground, hands gripping the ropes, swaying back and forth with her steady rhythm, the evening breeze against him—even now, Su Chi couldn’t quite believe this happiness was his.
He turned halfway on the swing and whispered: “Yushu…”
Hearing him call her, she immediately leaned in: “Hm? What is it?”
“Come closer.”
“Bend down.”
“Why—”
The rest of her words were caught in a kiss.
Su Chi pulled back after a moment, but Xie Yushu held the back of his head and deepened it.
In the moonlight, they shared a long, lingering kiss.
Their lives ahead together were still long—so very long.
—The End of the Main Story—
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