The day Ruan Mian moved with her mother to West Pingjiang Alley happened to coincide with the opening ceremony of the 2008 Olympic Games—a time of nationwide celebration.

Every household in the alley had their doors and windows wide open. Songs and cheers from television sets mixed together and spilled out into the street. Silhouettes moved about inside the homes, and moonlight filtered down through the gaps between the antennas coiled and intertwined overhead and the clothes randomly hung by families upstairs, illuminating this cramped little world.

Her mother, Fang Ruqing, was repeating in her gentle voice instructions she had already given many times before: “When we get to Uncle Zhao’s house, remember to greet everyone properly. Be well-behaved.”

Walking behind her, Ruan Mian kept her eyes lowered, watching the tracks left by her suitcase wheels rolling over the bluestone pavement. She responded without much emotion, “I know.”

Fang Ruqing heard the reluctance in her daughter’s words. She glanced back at her, then turned around again and continued walking forward. Her thin high heels, five centimeters tall, clicked rhythmically as they precisely avoided every pothole and uneven spot on the road. Her figure was slender and capable. “I know you still blame me for divorcing your father, but Mian Mian, maintaining a marriage isn’t as simple as you imagine. There are some things you don’t understand yet.”

Ruan Mian’s father, Ruan Mingke, was a researcher. He and Fang Ruqing had been schoolmates at the same university and fell in love at first sight at the freshmen welcome party. Right after Fang Ruqing graduated from college, the two of them applied for and obtained a marriage certificate. Less than two years later, Ruan Mian was born, and the family of three lived happily for seven years.

Around the time they hit the fatigue period of their marriage, when Ruan Mian was eight years old, her parents began to frequently argue and give each other the silent treatment. The house was constantly filled with tension.

The fighting never stopped after that.

Until three years ago, when Ruan Mingke was transferred away from Pingcheng due to work reasons. Before leaving, he and Fang Ruqing had an honest, frank conversation, and the couple entered a brief period of reconciliation.

But this reconciliation period only lasted half a year. Ruan Mingke’s work nature meant he was rarely home year-round. The frequent quarrels over many years had already worn away all the love between the couple. Now, with the added distance of time and space, this marriage existed in name only. Divorce was their final and best outcome.

At the end of October last year, the couple divorced peacefully. The house and car went to Ruan Mingke, while Fang Ruqing only asked for custody of Ruan Mian.

After the divorce, Fang Ruqing, who worked as a finance team leader at a foreign trade company, had many prospects. She quickly entered a new relationship with Zhao Yingwei, a supervisor from the business department at the same company.

Fang Ruqing brought Ruan Mian to meet Zhao Yingwei once during the Spring Festival this year.

After that, things progressed very naturally. Zhao Yingwei began to frequently appear in Ruan Mian and her mother’s lives. A week ago, the two of them obtained their marriage certificate.

Ruan Mian never participated in or expressed opinions about her parents’ decisions. As early as the first time Ruan Mingke and Fang Ruqing started fighting in front of her without any reservations, Ruan Mian had already guessed that such a day would eventually come.

She looked at her mother’s back and only said after a long while: “I don’t blame you.”

Fang Ruqing didn’t continue this line of conversation. As they passed a fruit stand in the alley, she stopped and had Ruan Mian pick out two watermelons.

While the owner was weighing the watermelons, Zhao Yingwei came from home with his son Zhao Shuyang to meet them. The middle-aged man in his forties wore a gray-white shirt and dress pants. His posture was straight and tall, his physique hadn’t gone out of shape, and his demeanor was refined and scholarly.

He walked over to the fruit stand and naturally took the suitcase from Fang Ruqing’s hand. “Didn’t I tell you to wait with Mian Mian at the alley entrance so I could come pick you both up?”

“It’s not that far anyway.” Fang Ruqing reached out to take the backpack from Ruan Mian’s shoulder and reminded her to greet him.

“Hello, Uncle Zhao.” Before Fang Ruqing could say more, Ruan Mian looked toward the little boy hiding behind Zhao Yingwei. She pulled two White Rabbit candies from her pocket and held them out. “Would you like some candy?”

Zhao Yingwei met Ruan Mian’s gaze, feeling both surprised and gratified. He gripped his son’s shoulder. “Aren’t you going to thank your sister?”

Zhao Shuyang took the candies and said timidly, “Thank you, Sister.”

“You’re welcome.” Ruan Mian naturally reached out to pat his head, her smile barely noticeable.

The Zhao family’s two-story house was deep in the alley, an old building several decades old. It was only a few dozen meters away from the government-approved demolition line.

Besides his son Zhao Shuyang, left behind by his late former wife, Zhao Yingwei’s household also included his daughter Zhao Shutang and his mother, Duan Ying.

Zhao Shutang was about the same age as Ruan Mian. According to Zhao Yingwei’s arrangements, after the new semester started, Ruan Mian would transfer to her class.

That evening, the two families sat down together for dinner. Afterward, Zhao Yingwei and Fang Ruqing took Ruan Mian to a bedroom on the second floor. The room wasn’t large, but it faced the sun with abundant light and was decorated warmly.

On the desk sat several unopened boxes. Fang Ruqing explained, “Your Uncle Zhao specifically had someone bring these model kits back from abroad for you.”

Ruan Mian walked over and opened one, then turned around to say thank you. “Thank you for the trouble, Uncle Zhao.”

“It’s no trouble. As long as you like them.” Zhao Yingwei didn’t linger in the room. After explaining a few things about the house layout, he went out first.

Fang Ruqing made Ruan Mian’s bed and sat on the edge. “No. 8 Middle School’s teaching quality is on par with No. 6 Middle School. Your Uncle Zhao has already contacted the teachers and arranged your class. Registration is on August 30th. Until what date does your tutoring class at No. 6 Middle School run?”

“The 16th.”

“Then it’s only a few more days. Otherwise, I’ll call Teacher Zhou and you can just skip it. It’s quite far to take the bus from here.”

Ruan Mian blinked. “No need. I’ll still go. It’s only seven or eight days left anyway, and besides, I still have test papers and study materials in that classroom.”

“That works too.” Fang Ruqing didn’t insist. She stood up. “Then go take a shower in a bit, and rest early tonight. I’ll call you for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, good night, Mom.”

“Mm.” Fang Ruqing patted her head. “Good night.”

After Fang Ruqing left, Ruan Mian opened her large suitcase and took out the clothes inside to put in the wardrobe. Only after she could no longer hear voices outside did she take her pajamas and go downstairs to bathe.

Aside from the master bedroom, the old house only had one shared bathroom upstairs and downstairs. While Ruan Mian was showering, she heard Zhao Shuyang knocking on the door outside saying he needed to use the toilet.

She called out that she’d be done soon. Without even using body wash, she grabbed a bath towel, hastily wiped the water from her body, put on her pajamas, and came out to let Zhao Shuyang in.

The door wasn’t closed properly. Ruan Mian heard sounds from inside, frowned slightly, then turned and went back upstairs. She found a small hair dryer in her suitcase, dried her hair, then turned off the light and lay down on the bed.

The sound of people walking back and forth continued in the hallway outside. Ruan Mian rolled over and, smelling the unfamiliar laundry detergent scent on the pillow, let out a long sigh.

The next morning, Ruan Mian didn’t eat breakfast with the Zhao family. From West Pingjiang Alley to the tutoring class was an hour and a half bus ride—she didn’t have time to sit down and eat.

Fang Ruqing saw her off to catch the bus. During the day, West Pingjiang Alley had more life to it than at night. The alley was filled with various grocery stores, hair salons, and fruit stands. The plastic signs in aluminum frames had faded from their original colors after being exposed to wind and sun.

The morning sunlight was beautiful, illuminating the entire alley brightly.

When they reached the bus stop, Fang Ruqing gave worried instructions: “If there’s an exam and class gets out late, call me and I’ll come pick you up.”

“I know.” When the bus arrived, Ruan Mian got on carrying soy milk and fried dough sticks in her hand. Commercial shops lined the roadside, and across from West Pingjiang Alley, a corner of Pingjiang Manor came into view.

The bus drove farther and farther away, gradually leaving behind this world where prosperity and decay intersected.

For the next week, Ruan Mian basically made this nine-to-five round trip every day, until the last day when the tutoring class organized a dinner gathering and she came back four hours later than usual.

It was nearly nine o’clock when she got off the bus. Ruan Mian carried her backpack and bought a popsicle at a small shop by the roadside, eating it as she walked toward the alley.

At this hour, the neighbors had all closed their doors and turned off their lights. Only occasionally could a bit of television light be glimpsed through a window. Moonlight became the only illumination in this place.

The alley was a complicated maze—one wrong turn and you’d go the wrong way. Ruan Mian stopped at an unfamiliar crossroads, hesitating about which direction to turn, when two men talking and laughing suddenly emerged from the alley on the right. Their gazes lingered on her for a few seconds.

Ruan Mian instinctively tightened her grip on her backpack straps. Before waiting for them to walk far away, she turned and headed toward another alley that had some light in the distance.

Behind her, there was silence for a few seconds, but soon the sound of unhurried footsteps followed. Ruan Mian’s entire scalp tingled, but she didn’t dare look back—she could only quicken her pace.

Eventually, she even started running. The sound of wind whistled past her ears, carrying the atmosphere of summer—sweltering and oppressive.

The light in this alley came from an internet cafe by the roadside. Several male students stood on the steps at the entrance, and someone was selling barbecue nearby.

Ruan Mian ran all the way to the barbecue stand. Li Zhi, who was brushing sauce on lamb skewers at the grill, was startled by her. “You—”

She caught her breath. “Boss, I’ll have twenty skewers of grilled lamb.”

After saying this, Ruan Mian pretended to casually glance back at the path she’d come from. It was completely empty, as if all the heart-pounding danger just now had been her own one-person show.

She withdrew her gaze and met the male student’s somewhat puzzled look. She reached up to touch her face. “What’s wrong?”

Li Zhi smiled. “Nothing. Twenty skewers, right? They’ll be ready soon.”

While waiting for the grilled skewers, Ruan Mian pulled out her phone to call Fang Ruqing. No one answered. She called three more times with the same result.

She didn’t have Zhao Yingwei’s number saved in her phone, nor did she have the Zhao family’s landline number. She could only call Fang Ruqing every few minutes, but even after the twenty skewers were done, Ruan Mian still hadn’t gotten through.

Ruan Mian stood by the roadside holding the packaged grilled skewers, hesitating whether to continue waiting here to make calls or to brave going back.

Li Zhi on the side brought the grilled meat skewers to the table and called to the male students standing nearby, “You guys eat first. The grilled fish will be ready soon.”

Hearing this, Ruan Mian turned to look back. Her gaze inadvertently swept to the side, and she immediately spotted the male student standing on the steps looking at his phone.

He was very tall. His hair looked somewhat brown or perhaps chestnut-colored in the light and shadows from the internet cafe—in any case, not black. But he wore a black short-sleeved shirt with matching athletic pants with white stripes, and white low-top canvas shoes on his feet. His eyes held a deep, piercing intensity that seemed etched into memory.

People are sensitive to being watched. The male student sensed it and looked up, glancing around. Before he could look her way, Ruan Mian lowered her head first, her hands and feet so stiff they didn’t feel like her own.

Chen Yi didn’t look in Ruan Mian’s direction.

Without much concern, he withdrew his gaze and stepped down a couple of steps. “Sister Lu said the internet cafe is out of cigarettes. I’ll go to the store and get two cartons.”

“Perfect timing, I’ll go with you to bring back a case of alcohol.” Li Zhi handed his tools to someone else with an instruction: “Watch my fish for me.”

Someone responded, “Got it.”

Li Zhi took off the apron from his chest and tossed it on a stool. “Let’s go.”

Chen Yi came down from the steps, and Li Zhi draped his arm over his shoulder. After walking a few steps, Li Zhi turned back to look at Ruan Mian. “Little sister, it’s so late—aren’t you going home?”

Ruan Mian gripped the plastic bag tighter in her hand. Seeing the male student standing beside him, she felt momentarily short of breath. “I’m heading back now.”

“You just moved here recently, right? I’ve never seen you before.” Li Zhi scratched his neck and asked with a frown, “Which part of the alley do you live in?”

Ruan Mian thought for a moment. “The Zhao family in the alley.”

“Zhao Yingwei?”

Ruan Mian nodded. “Yes.”

“Then how did you end up here? Did you take a wrong turn?” Li Zhi laughed, removing his arm from Chen Yi’s shoulder. He turned his head to speak to him. “Isn’t the Zhao family in that alley up ahead?”

Chen Yi looked up, his gaze sweeping past Ruan Mian’s face. His voice was clean and clear, like spring water flowing slowly through an empty valley. “No impression.”

“I remember it seems to be there.” Li Zhi looked at Ruan Mian. “Do you know the Li Family Supermarket? The Zhao family is right where you turn at that intersection, but that supermarket closes after eight o’clock. You probably didn’t notice it when you passed by. Come on, we’re going that way anyway—we’ll take you along.”

“Thank you.” Ruan Mian carried the grilled skewers, which had already lost most of their heat, and followed them forward. Her palms and back broke out in a layer of sweat.

Halfway there, Ruan Mian received a return call from Fang Ruqing. After a few words, Zhao Yingwei, who was listening nearby, understood the situation and told her to wait at the supermarket entrance—they would come pick her up now.

Li Zhi glanced back at her, then continued chatting idly with Chen Yi. When they reached the supermarket entrance, he asked Ruan Mian, “Is your family coming to pick you up?”

“Yes. Thank you so much for today. Next time I’ll come buy grilled skewers from your place again.”

Li Zhi chuckled and nodded. “Okay.”

Chen Yi on the side put away his phone and bent down, his hand fumbling under the rolling door, then with a strong pull, he lifted the rolling door up. There were actually people inside the supermarket with lights on—it was just that the door had been closed too tightly to show any light. Now with the door open, it illuminated a large area outside.

Li Zhi didn’t chat more with Ruan Mian and turned to follow Chen Yi into the supermarket. Ruan Mian stood outside and heard them talking with the people inside.

…

“I’ve told you how many times—I’m Li Zhi, and he’s Chen Yi.” Li Zhi shouted at the top of his lungs, then complained somewhat dissatisfied, “How can you even mistake your own grandson?”

“Chen Yi, who’s Chen Yi?” This was an elderly person’s voice.

Another middle-aged man spoke: “He’s the grandson of Old Master Chen’s family at Pingjiang Manor, your old friend, Old Master Chen Pinghong.”

The old person said “Oh” three times in a row, as if understanding but also as if not understanding. “Then which Chen and which Yi are you?”

The room went quiet for a few seconds. Ruan Mian couldn’t help but turn around. The male student was standing sideways to the entrance. Before him sat an elderly person in a wheelchair who appeared to be over seventy.

He bent slightly at the waist, his nose bridge appearing particularly prominent from this angle. His voice was lazy and very pleasant to hear: “Chen with the ‘ear’ radical on the left side, Yi as in ‘standing tall like a pagoda reaching for the stars.'”

—

**Author’s Note:** Ruan Mian and Chen Yi’s story begins in summer. My story with all of you also starts from the Beginning of Summer. I hope we all have a beautiful and unforgettable summer together.

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