After spending several years abroad, returning to China—especially to a city she’d never visited—required time to adjust. However, when Gu Zhijie first drove her to the observatory, seeing the orderly plane trees lining both sides of the mountain road, Jiang Mu fell in love with this city.
Gu Zhijie told her that Nanjing’s plane trees had a long history with many stories. The most accurate account was that they were planted for Sun Yat-sen’s funeral ceremony, but the most popular version claimed that because Soong Mei-ling loved French plane trees, Chiang Kai-shek had filled the entire city with them to please his wife. Jiang Mu arrived during Nanjing’s summer, and Gu Zhijie told her that in autumn, the plane tree leaves would form a golden necklace around the Mei-ling Palace. This romantic description made Jiang Mu’s gaze linger on the majestic tree canopy—the sturdy trunks bore the weight of history and witnessed the city’s century of changes.
Jiang Mu remembered the last time she saw Jin Chao, wearing a white shirt and sitting by the second-floor window. There had been a plane tree outside then, and when the breeze stirred, its shadows danced on his white shirt. Even now, whenever she thought of him, that image appeared in her mind.
So, inexplicably, she developed a special sentiment for this place.
Jiang Mu decided to settle in the east of the city, some distance from the research institute. Gu Zhijie asked if she could drive. She had never learned, though she’d considered it several times, but always remembered Jin Chao’s masterful driving skills. Used to riding in his car, she kept putting it off until now.
Gu Zhijie had wanted to help her with housing, but Jiang Mu politely declined. He’d already helped enough with submitting documents, her resume, and arranging her employment—asking for help with housing seemed too much.
Though her apartment complex wasn’t particularly new, it was near the scenic Purple Mountain. During her breaks, she would often wake up early to walk the hiking trail to the observatory, sometimes climbing to Toutuo Ridge before returning home to shower and continue her unfinished work.
She had long since abandoned the habit of sleeping in, making full use of her time when alone. She’d also grown to love coffee, needing a cup before she could focus on work. She’d been to many places and had many cups of coffee, but she could never find that vanilla latte with a hint of cinnamon, and now she had almost forgotten its taste.
Still, whenever she settled in a new place, she habitually searched for nearby coffee shops. After trying several local shops, she noticed a coffee shop called “Oon” on the delivery app with high ratings. Many young girls commented that the shop had a handsome guy working there. Jiang Mu ordered a vanilla latte out of curiosity and found it quite to her taste.
From then on, whenever she needed coffee to keep going, she ordered from this shop. This continued for two months, from summer to early autumn. One Saturday morning, after working half a day, instead of taking the subway home, she took a bus. Getting off still far from her apartment, she decided to ride a shared bicycle back.
As autumn arrived, Nanjing’s osmanthus flowers bloomed, filling the air with their fragrance in the warm breeze. This was a city that could heal hearts, and gradually, that deep sense of helplessness when thinking of Jin Chao dissolved in this culturally rich city.
Plane trees with intertwining branches lined both sides of the street, the air filled with osmanthus fragrance. She rode along the long path, listening to a light instrumental piece called “Autumn” through her earphones, pedaling leisurely homeward.
Gradually, grey-brick buildings appeared along the road, with warm sunlight falling on their storefronts, catching Jiang Mu’s attention.
Though she’d lived nearby for almost three months, she usually took the subway to work and had never been down this street. Finding it novel, she slowed down.
Her gaze stopped on a sign partially hidden by plane tree branches. The small shop was surrounded by green trees, nestled among beautiful flowers and vegetation. The starry-night blue sign caught Jiang Mu’s attention, and she circled, craning her neck to read it. To her surprise, it showed a single handwritten English word: “Oon”. The rich coffee aroma wafting from the shop made her smile instantly.
She hadn’t expected to stumble upon the coffee shop she’d been ordering from for nearly two months. Since she was passing by, she naturally stopped her bike to buy a coffee.
Pushing open the stylish wooden door, bell chimes rang out. A cute girl with monolids looked up and smiled, saying, “Welcome to Oon, what would you like to drink?”
Jiang Mu found the black menu board intriguing—it displayed a grand planetary diagram, with each coffee representing a different planet. Her usual vanilla latte was marked as Mercury.
Finding the design interesting, she told the staff, “I often order delivery from your shop. I had no idea you were here—the sign is barely visible from the street.”
The manager, a married woman a few years older than Jiang Mu, turned around with smiling eyes: “Yes, many customers say that, but the owner won’t cut down the trees in the yard.”
Jiang Mu smiled too: “Your owner is quite zen. By the way, I always get the vanilla latte—any other recommendations?”
The monolid girl suggested, “Why not try our Oon? It’s our bestseller, many customers love it.”
Jiang Mu looked at the coffee’s name on the menu. While other coffee names were in the printed text, only this one matched the handwriting on the door sign. She remembered receiving a black card with the same handwritten “Oon” with every delivery order. “This Oon is the one from the delivery cards, right? The font is quite distinctive.”
The staff told her, “Our owner wrote it himself.”
Surprised, Jiang Mu smiled and said, “I’ll take a large one then.”
While waiting, she looked around the coffee shop. The yard had several black rattan tables and chairs under large umbrellas. The ground floor had several circles of sofas—not very large but comfortably decorated. The owner must have been an astronomy enthusiast; there was even a large-aperture refracting telescope by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Jiang Mu walked over to look, wanting to touch it but feeling hesitant.
The chubby manager told her, “It’s fine, it’s meant for customers to use. Though a child messed up the settings last time, and none of us know how to adjust it.”
Jiang Mu put down her bag, adjusted the tailstock and equatorial mount, then used the finderscope to align and calibrate the target. The monolid girl came over and asked, “You know how to use astronomical telescopes?”
Jiang Mu just smiled without answering. As the girl handed her the coffee, Jiang Mu suggested, “If you want to use it during the day, ask your owner to add a Baader filter—you can observe sunspots.”
She took her coffee, said thank you, and left.
Outside the coffee shop, she found her shared bicycle had been taken. Jiang Mu paused—fortunately, her apartment wasn’t far. She opened her coffee for a sip and was about to walk home when she suddenly stopped.
People have about ten thousand taste buds, and each one has a memory. Yes, she had forgotten the taste of that coffee from years ago, but her taste buds remembered.
As plane tree leaves fell and maple leaves turned red, the bell chimes rang again as the staff saw the beautiful woman return. They asked, “Is something wrong?”
Jiang Mu walked straight to them, hesitated for a moment, and asked, “Is there a handsome guy working here?”
The staff looked confused, and Jiang Mu added, “Oh, I saw people mentioning it in the delivery reviews.”
The manager smiled and said, “He’s off today, but you should see him next time you come.”
Gripping her coffee cup tightly, Jiang Mu asked, “What’s his name?”
The manager told her, “His surname is Gu.”
Jiang Mu’s suspended heart suddenly sank again. She asked one more question: “Is he working tomorrow?”
“Yes, he is.”
Leaving the coffee shop, Jiang Mu took another sip of her coffee, paused for a few seconds, shook her head, and left.
The next day after work, Jiang Mu deliberately detoured to the coffee shop to buy an Oon coffee and successfully met the handsome Mr. Gu. He was fair-skinned and quite tall, but not the person she was looking for—she felt somewhat disappointed.
Yesterday’s monolid girl whispered to Gu Tao, “That’s the beautiful woman who asked about you.”
So while making coffee, Gu Tao glanced at Jiang Mu several times. As darkness fell, Jiang Mu returned to the telescope for another observation.
Suddenly, a dog burst out from behind the changing room curtain and ran straight toward Jiang Mu. She turned at the movement to find a pure black Labrador cautiously approaching her, sniffing and circling her.
Jiang Mu bent down to look at the large dog, gradually frowning. It looked so much like Lightning—that familiar feeling suddenly rushed back. Here in distant Nanjing, over a thousand kilometers from Tonggang, this inexplicable sense of familiarity left Jiang Mu bewildered.
Gu Tao hurried over to stop it: “Mendan, stop sniffing around.”
Jiang Mu straightened up and asked, “His name is Mendan?”
Gu Tao apologized: “Yes, he’s called Mendan. Usually doesn’t pay attention to people—won’t even come when we call. Don’t know what’s gotten into him today, maybe he likes beautiful women.”
Jiang Mu ignored Gu Tao’s compliment and patted Mendan’s head, saying, “It’s fine, I used to have a Labrador just like him.”
She gently patted Mendan’s head, and surprisingly, he obediently lay down at her feet. Gu Tao watched in amazement, remarking, “Looks like he likes you.”
He went to get the coffee while Jiang Mu crouched down to check Mendan’s belly. She remembered Lightning had a scar from surgery, where fur wouldn’t grow, but Mendan’s belly was covered in soft black fur. She wanted to part the fur for a closer look, but Mendan objected, standing up and wagging his tail at her.
Gu Tao brought her coffee, and Jiang Mu thanked him. As she left, Mendan followed her to the yard. Despite their calls, he wouldn’t return. Only when Jiang Mu stepped outside the yard did he stop, standing at the gate watching her from afar. When she looked back from a distance, his drooping tail suddenly lifted.
Something stirred in Jiang Mu’s heart. She remembered Lightning—how he used to see her off to her car whenever she left the garage. If she played hide-and-seek, hiding behind the bus stop sign before jumping out, Lightning’s drooping tail would suddenly start wagging.
After that, she never kept pets again, afraid that once she became attached, parting would be even more painful.
On the third day, Jiang Mu found herself drawn back to “Oon” after work. As soon as she pushed open the heavy wooden door, Mendan ran out from the changing room, wagging his tail and approaching her. The monolid staff member, called Little Ke, said curiously, “Why has Mendan gotten so attached to you?”
Jiang Mu crouched to pet him, smiling, “I don’t know, I don’t even have food. Is he the shop’s dog?”
Little Ke replied, “No, he belongs to our boss. When the boss travels, he leaves the dog here.”
Jiang Mu turned her head, wearing a faint smile: “Does a coffee shop owner travel often?”
Little Ke told her: “The coffee shop is his side business; he has a main job.”
Nearby, Gu Tao corrected: “Actually, the coffee shop is his main business; he has other side work.”
Jiang Mu couldn’t understand the difference between these two descriptions. She got her coffee, spent some time petting Mendan, and left.
The next time she came, Mendan wasn’t in the shop any more—presumably their boss had returned and taken him home.
On the weekend, after working up a sweat hiking, Jiang Mu showered and brought her laptop to Oon. She ordered coffee and cake, and seeing only Little Ke there, asked about the others.
Little Ke said, “The manager’s off today, and Gu Tao went to the boss’s house to get Mendan.”
Jiang Mu opened her computer, pulled up work documents, and casually asked, “Your boss is traveling again?”
Little Ke replied, “I don’t think it’s travel—he’s preparing his thesis proposal at school.”
Jiang Mu typed for a while, and Little Ke brought her coffee. She lifted the cup and said, “Your boss works hard.”
Little Ke smiled: “Our boss is like Superman, still earning money to keep the shop running.”
Jiang Mu leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee, and asked, “Doesn’t the shop make money?”
Little Ke chatted with her: “Heard it lost money the first two years, so the boss had to earn from elsewhere to keep it going. But now we have more regular customers, this year’s been pretty good.”
Jiang Mu pressed her lips together: “That’s impressive.”
Then she focused on her work.
About half an hour later, Gu Tao returned with Mendan. The weekend brought more customers than usual—Jiang Mu wasn’t the only one there—but as soon as Mendan entered and saw her, he ran over. He wouldn’t return to the changing room all afternoon, lying not far from Jiang Mu with his head resting on his paws, watching her. Though he didn’t come too close, he stayed nearby, as if keeping guard over her.
Several times while pausing to drink coffee, Jiang Mu had a strange feeling, as if she’d returned to her senior year of high school—herself buried in practice problems, Lightning by her side, giving her an inexplicable sense of security.
When her eyes tired, she removed her glasses and set them aside. Looking up, she could see Purple Mountain’s elegant silhouette through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She remembered telling Jin Chao long ago that she wanted to open a coffee shop with him at the foot of a mountain, thinking such a life would be perfect and peaceful. Now she realized how naive that suggestion had been—look at this shop, losing money for two years before turning profitable. She wondered what kind of foolish idea she’d proposed back then.
As darkness fell, she packed up her laptop and stretched, going over to pat Mendan before heading home. He slowly followed her to the yard gate. After walking a few steps, Jiang Mu suddenly turned back. A strange idea struck her, and she abruptly called out to Mendan: “Lightning.”
Mendan, who had been sitting at the gate, gradually stood up, staring at her with round eyes. The next second, he burst out of the yard, racing toward her…