For New Year’s Eve dinner, the Zhou family gathered around the hot pot as they did every year. Zhou Ya had started preparations since the afternoon—simmering stock, slicing crispy fish maw, chopping lobster.

Fang Long, meanwhile, kept Ma Huimin company preparing ginkgo nuts, getting ready for the after-dinner dessert of taro and ginkgo sweet soup.

Using a small knife to split open the ginkgo shells, a toothpick to pick out the bitter white core, then tossing them into water to soak—the steps were simple, and the process was relaxing.

Fang Long really enjoyed doing this. Or rather, she really loved this kind of atmosphere at her aunt’s house during the New Year.

As a small child she couldn’t remember much, but by the age she could form memories, those Lunar New Years had gotten worse year after year.

She hadn’t minded not having new clothes or new shoes; she hadn’t been heartbroken when Fang Deming took her lucky money to gamble with. What made Fang Long sad was only that while everyone else’s family was happily eating their New Year’s Eve dinner, her own home was cold and empty.

In the first few years, her mother Ma Yulian would still go out specially to buy groceries and make three or four dishes, and the three of them would have a simple meal together.

But before the dishes were even finished, Fang Deming would rush out the door, leaving her and Ma Yulian alone at home.

In the years after that, Ma Yulian gradually stopped spending New Year’s at home too, or she’d come back once, bring some food, and call that the “New Year’s Eve dinner.”

“Auntie, you know, one year my New Year’s Eve dinner was actually a burger and a Coke.”

Fang Long found it rather amusing—something that had once been so upsetting, she could now say with a smile, seemingly lighthearted. “Back then, everyone in my class had already eaten McDonald’s, some kids even had birthday parties at KFC—I was the only one who never had.”

Ma Huimin asked, “Mc… McWhat?”

Fang Long paused, then quickly said with a smile, “Oh, it’s just a fast food place! We have one in our town too—that ‘McDeji’ place.”

—There was a gap between big cities and small ones, and a gap between small cities and small towns. Anzhen Town had no McDonald’s or KFC, but it had a knockoff fast food joint called “McDeji.”

Ma Huimin understood. “Oh, the place that sells fried chicken burgers.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, McDonald’s is pretty much like it. I really wanted to try it back then too, never thought I’d actually get to eat it on New Year’s Eve—my mom went out specially to buy it for me.”

As Fang Long spoke, she picked out another white-cored nut.

Some words that had always been hidden in her heart seemed to be pried loose by that same sharp toothpick tip.

“Ah, your mother really was…” Ma Huimin couldn’t help but sigh. “Who eats that kind of thing on New Year’s Eve? I know she didn’t like cooking, but it’s New Year’s—at least make a couple of hot dishes, right?”

Fang Long dropped the last ginkgo nut into the steel basin and smiled. “Even though the burger and fries had gone cold by then, I was happy as a fool. It wasn’t until winter break ended and school started again, and I mentioned to my classmates that I’d had McDonald’s on New Year’s, that everyone thought it was strange—that’s when I realized no family eats fast food on New Year’s Eve.”

Ma Huimin, aching with sympathy, took her hand and carefully wiped her fingertips with a damp towel, comforting her gently. “That’s all in the past now. Our Long Long’s good fortune is still ahead.”

Fang Long smiled, her eyes crinkling, her little canine tooth showing, and she leaned sideways to bump her aunt’s shoulder. “No need to wait for later—right now is already the luckiest time of my life!”

Zhou Ya, knife in hand, was slicing pale white fish.

He’d already turned off the stove and the range hood, so the whole kitchen was quiet, and he could hear every word the girl said clearly.

Listening, his furrowed brow gradually eased, and without realizing it, the corner of his mouth curved into a smile.

Winter days grew dark quickly; lights came on in every household, and the old buildings stood so close together that sitting in the dining room, you could hear the TV sounds from other homes.

Fang Long adjusted the position and angle of the living room TV so they could watch the Spring Festival Gala while eating hot pot at the dining table.

She hurried over to the liquor cabinet and picked up a glass, asking, “Auntie, are you drinking a bit tonight?”

“Sure, sure, I want to drink—” Ma Huimin suddenly went quiet, sneaking a glance at Zhou Ya.

Zhou Ya had just changed the gas canister on the portable stove; with a click, he turned the knob, and a ring of blue flame flared up.

He gave a short laugh. “I’ll make an exception tonight, you can have a little.”

Ma Huimin’s eyes curved with a smile, and she made a “scissors” hand gesture like a child. “Yay, thanks, son!”

Then she went over to pick out drinks with Fang Long.

A clay pot replaced the steel one, and the milky white broth quickly came to a boil.

Though only three people sat at the table, and Zhou Ya was a man of few words, Fang Long’s chatty mouth alone could make up for ten people.

She had something to say about every single program on the Spring Festival Gala, keeping the table lively the whole time.

Happy, Ma Huimin took a few more sips of the rice wine.

As the alcohol took effect along with her emotions, she grew both joyful and sorrowful, her eyes gradually growing damp. “I haven’t done anything great in this life. The thing I’m proudest of is bringing you two home with me. I don’t know how many more years I have left—I just hope I get to see A’Ya marry a wife, see Long Long marry well…”

Fang Long quickly said, “Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey! Auntie, you’re going to live to a hundred, don’t say such unlucky things.”

Ma Huimin said, “Life and death are fated, I’ve never forced anything. I just hope that before I go, I get to see you both doing well…”

Zhou Ya couldn’t take it anymore either. “Mom, we’re doing fine right now.”

Ma Huimin wiped her tears with the back of her hand and glared at him. “Fine how? You don’t even have a girlfriend, all day focused on making money, all alone… look at your classmates, look at the Ren family upstairs—build a family first, then a career. You’ve got it all backward.”

The conversation circled around and still couldn’t escape the topic of Zhou Ya’s love life.

After drinking and eating her fill, Ma Huimin got sleepy quickly. Fang Long walked her back to her room, where Ma Huimin whispered to her, “Long Long, if you know any suitable girls, introduce one to your brother, would you?”

Fang Long didn’t know when it had started, but it felt like her chest was being filled with blocks of stone, pressing uncomfortably on her heart.

“That girl who’s always been close with you, what’s her name… what’s her name…” Ma Huimin thought for a moment and remembered. “Wu Danchun, I think she’s quite good, sweet and pretty—”

Fang Long cut her off directly. “Auntie, she already has a boyfriend.”

The whole sordid business of her ex-boyfriend getting together with her ex-best-friend—Fang Long had never mentioned that to Ma Huimin.

When it came to reporting good news but not bad to family, it turned out she and Zhou Ya were quite alike.

“Oh, never mind then.”

Ma Huimin didn’t pursue the topic further. She pulled open the bedside drawer and took out two red envelopes, handing them to Fang Long with a beaming smile. “Auntie can’t wait until midnight. I’ll give you your red envelope early—happy new year, grow up well.”

Fang Long’s nose stung, and she pressed her lips together as she took them. “Thank you, Auntie.”

Two red envelopes, both large ones, but one thick, one thin.

Ma Huimin explained, “The thick one is from your brother. He didn’t have a red envelope packet ready, so he gave me the cash and asked me to pack it for him.”

Fang Long smiled softly. “Okay, I’ll thank him in person later.”

But Fang Long never did thank Zhou Ya face to face.

When Ma Huimin was around, the two of them could interact somewhat naturally; the moment she wasn’t there, they each went about their own business, keeping as much distance as possible, not even meeting each other’s eyes.

An unspoken understanding, yet trying too hard to hide it that it showed all the more.

They didn’t finish watching the Gala; Fang Long went back to her room early.

Unable to sleep, she found a novel to distract herself. She’d been reading for who knows how long when suddenly the sound of firecrackers shooting into the sky rang out beyond the window.

One after another, blooming into flowers with loud bangs in the dark night.

It was the new year now.

In the end, she opened QQ and sent Zhou Ya a message: “Got the red envelope, thanks boss.”

Another firework rose into the sky, and at the same moment her phone buzzed with a series of dings.

Fang Long opened it—it was from Zhou Ya.

“Happy new year, grow up well.”