Because they had gone to bed so late, when the alarm dragged Su Man awake the next day, her whole head felt foggy, and she’d had a string of strange dreams.

But she was young and her constitution was strong — after washing her face, she was more or less back to herself.

Once she finished freshening up, she remembered that Lu Yuwen still had no towel, no toothbrush, and no cup. She hurried downstairs and called out toward the staircase:

“Auntie Zhang, could you find a full set of toiletries…”

No response.

By this hour, Auntie Zhang should already have arrived.

Su Man shuffled downstairs in her slippers and heard voices coming from the direction of the kitchen —

“Mr. Lu, this congee you made is just wonderful. You’re so talented. I’ve taken note of your method — next time Madam wants congee, I’ll make it just like this.”

“I work in the restaurant business — I wouldn’t call myself a proper chef, but I do know a few cooking techniques. Your method was actually quite good to begin with…”

Su Man blinked and walked into the kitchen to find Lu Yuwen chatting with the family’s cook, the electric clay pot bubbling and steaming, the bright kitchen filled with the fragrance of rice.

“You’re up early,” she said, genuinely surprised — and she hadn’t expected him to have gotten acquainted with Auntie Zhang so quickly, let alone be in such easy conversation with her.

Lu Yuwen turned and smiled at her. “Good morning.”

He was handsome — a clean, elegant sort of handsomeness. The moment he smiled, it was as though he blended into the morning light behind him, carrying a quietly soothing quality.

“Good morning…” Su Man replied faintly.

Then she suddenly remembered something, let out a startled cry, and looked quickly at the cook. “Oh no — Auntie Zhang, my mom said no pork or seafood for the next few days. You didn’t put any shrimp in the congee, did you?”

— Auntie Zhang’s specialty was seafood congee: shrimp congee, crab congee, scallop congee. Even when stir-frying everyday dishes, she liked to toss in a handful of dried shrimp for flavor. Su Ba and Su Ma both loved it. But Su Ma had specifically reminded her yesterday to watch what they ate for a while.

Auntie Zhang’s round face broke into a broad smile. “I know, I know — Mr. Lu already told me. Today I made shredded chicken congee — very nourishing, and not at all heavy.”

Su Man hesitated. “Is that suitable for someone recovering from an injury?”

“It is,” Lu Yuwen explained gently. “More nutritious than plain vegetable congee, and still easy to digest. When are you heading to the hospital? Eat breakfast first — your parents are probably still sleeping.”

Su Man thought about it and nodded. “Mm, you’re right. I took the day off anyway, so there’s no rush.”

She had taken the day off to attend Li Li’s commendation ceremony.

The thought brought Li Li to mind, and she wondered if he was up yet…

Auntie Zhang lifted the lid of the clay pot, releasing an even richer wave of fragrance. The white, velvety shredded chicken congee was ladled into small celadon bowls, and the scent made Su Man swallow involuntarily.

Today’s congee really was exceptional.

“Auntie Zhang, is there any extra? I’d like to bring a bowl to Li Li,” Su Man said.

Auntie Zhang nodded. “Plenty — I made extra. I’ll scoop a generous serving. Li Madam and Li Mister can have some too.”

She took out a larger bowl and filled it to the brim, then handed it to Su Man.

Su Man took it happily and, still in her pajamas, slipped out the door with a light step.

Lu Yuwen watched her go, and after a thoughtful pause, asked Auntie Zhang in an offhand tone, “Miss Su’s boyfriend — does he live next door?”

He had actually heard about this from Su Man the night before, but he wanted to hear a different perspective.

“No, no, he’s not her boyfriend.” Auntie Zhang laughed, waving her hand as she wiped the counter. “Though it’s not far off either. Those two children grew up together — they’re very close. Both families have tacitly accepted them as a couple. It’s just a matter of waiting for the Li boy to come around.”

Lu Yuwen raised an eyebrow slightly. “…Come around?”

Auntie Zhang didn’t look up. “He’s just read too many books — his head is so full of academics, he doesn’t know how to be tender with a girl…”

Lu Yuwen turned the phrase over slowly in his mind:

“Doesn’t know how to… be tender with a girl…”

—