Tang Huiyi had not expected her daughter to refuse her so decisively. Disappointment flashed across her face, yet she did not ask why. A grown child has her own ideas; there might be a thousand reasons for a “no,” and prying could only hurt more.
Regaining her composure, Tang Huiyi quickly shifted the topic to that evening’s dinner.
Tang Yan felt relieved that her mother had not pressed her about why she would not come home for the New Year. She had no answer ready, no flawless excuse to offer. Her secret crush on Aunt Ji was perhaps the greatest secret of her life, one she had to protect for now.
“Senior, you quit drinking?” Zhang Miya sat alone, idly swirling a cup of sake.
“Yes. I haven’t touched alcohol in years,” Tang Huiyi replied.
“I remember back in college you could still handle a little.” Zhang Miya set down her glass with a mock sigh. “Fine, I’ll stop too. Drinking without company is no fun.”
Ji Yuqing teased her. “Your husband isn’t here to mop up the mess. If you get drunk, how will you get Dou‑dou home safely?”
“I can call a driver…” Zhang Miya’s voice faded—clearly unsure of herself. “But it’s hard to call one if you’re passed out. Alcohol is a tough habit to break. Someday I’ll make sure my daughter never touches it.”
After dinner they parted at the restaurant door. Tang Huiyi and little Xuan‑xuan climbed into Ji Yuqing’s car; she would drop them at their hotel.
On the way, Tang Huiyi remarked, “Zhang Miya really hasn’t changed at all.”
“No,” Ji Yuqing smiled as she drove. “Before and after becoming a mother, she’s still loud and carefree—just like a kid.”
“She clearly married the right man. Only someone who spoils her completely could let her stay that sunny. A woman who lives in constant anger ages quickly.” Tang Huiyi sighed.
“They planned to stay child‑free. They married soon after college and kept their two‑person world into their thirties. Dou‑dou was an accident they decided to keep. Maybe people just think differently once they hit a certain age.” Ji Yuqing shrugged.
Chatting like this, they soon reached the hotel. Ji Yuqing offered to walk them upstairs, but Tang Huiyi declined. Holding her sleeping son, she stood outside the car. “It’s late—no need. You two should rest.”
Ji Yuqing nodded and drove off. The moment the car started, Tang Yan sat upright.
“I thought you were asleep,” Ji Yuqing said, surprised.
Tang Yan rubbed her eyes. She had only been pretending—hoping no conversation would touch on her.
“Was the Japanese food good? Did you like it?” Ji Yuqing asked.
Tang Yan smiled sheepishly. “Everything but the sashimi.”
With a doting glance, Ji Yuqing asked, “Any ideas about New Year?”
Tang Yan shook her head—none.
“If you stay in Huadu with me, it might be quiet—only the two of us,” Ji Yuqing reminded her.
Tang Yan twisted her fingers. “I don’t want to go back with her, and I want nothing to do with that man. I’d feel awkward—that’s her new family.”
Sensing her gloom, Ji Yuqing freed a hand to pat her hair. “All right, we won’t go back. Spend New Year with Aunt Ji.” She sighed. “It’s been ages since I had company for the holiday.”
Company… Tang Yan’s heart skipped. So she was that company. If one day she could graduate from “company” to “lover,” she would wake from the dream laughing.
The next few days flew by. In a blink it was time for Tang Huiyi and her half‑brother to leave Huadu.
Aunt Ji had taken them to every famous sight in the city—each one packed. Most nights Tang Yan collapsed into bed the moment she got home.
They made countless memories and were forced into countless photos. Tang Yan had never cared for pictures; she was forever stiff‑faced, especially in the obligatory peace‑sign tourist shots. Yet in photos with Aunt Ji she smiled—shyly, but genuinely.
Her other friend in Huadu, Zhao Xiaoyun, posted nonstop about working overtime; year‑end pay was higher, she said, and she still had not decided if she would go home for the holidays.
As for senior Shen Yuyin, their contact had always been polite and infrequent. Since Shen’s drunken confession—and Tang Yan’s refusal—messages had become even rarer.
Huadu grew colder. On the farewell morning, Tang Yan saw thick frost on the sill and fog on the glass.
She rose early, applied simple makeup, pulled on the heavy down coat Aunt Ji had bought, and wrapped the beloved scarf that still carried Aunt Ji’s scent—a scarf she dared not wear too often for fear of drawing notice.
When she stepped into the living room, Ji Yuqing’s eyes lit up. “Yan‑yan, you look different today.”
“Do I? Ha ha… When are we leaving?”
Ji Yuqing glanced at her phone. “Right away.” She grinned. “Why are you so happy to see your mom off?”
Tang Yan shrugged impishly. “No idea—just… relaxed. Don’t tell her.”
Ji Yuqing laughed and lowered her voice. “Your secret is safe.”
They reached the hotel. Tang Huiyi emerged with Xuan‑xuan and a suitcase. Because Tang Yan’s door opened roadside, Ji Yuqing asked her to load the luggage.
Tang Yan gladly did so. Tang Huiyi was stunned: when had her frail girl become so strong? She thanked her at once.
“You’re welcome,” Tang Yan said coolly, shut the trunk, and climbed back in.
The car headed for the airport. Tang Yan, cheek in hand, watched the scenery and smiled to herself.
“Yuqing, thank you for everything—and for spending so much,” Tang Huiyi said.
“Please, Senior, that’s nothing. As long as you, Xuan‑xuan, and Yan‑yan had fun.” Ji Yuqing waved it off.
Then Tang Huiyi turned to her daughter. “Yan‑yan, once I’m gone, listen to Aunt Ji, don’t trouble her, study hard, and become someone useful.”
“I will,” Tang Yan answered, her good mood impervious to nagging.
“Don’t worry,” Ji Yuqing added. “Yan‑yan is thoughtful—she often gets up early to make me breakfast.”
“She makes you breakfast?” Tang Huiyi’s envy was plain. “That’s wonderful.”
At the airport they collected the boarding pass. Farewell time.
To be honest, Tang Yan felt almost nothing—far less than she felt each weekend when Aunt Ji dropped her at school.
Tang Huiyi’s eyes reddened; she did not know when she would next see her stubborn daughter. Little Xuan‑xuan stared blankly.
She asked for a final hug. Tang Yan did not refuse, but stood stiff, like a mannequin.
After hugging Ji Yuqing as well, Tang Huiyi waved and disappeared with her suitcase.
Side by side, Tang Yan and Ji Yuqing watched the mother and son recede, never imagining that their next meeting would erupt into fierce conflict.