Matcha Red Bean Scones

Xia Jiao made a big X with her arms and corrected, “I’m actually quite good at cooking.”

“Indeed,” Wen Chongyue leaned in, “You’re good at it, though sometimes you make small mistakes that don’t matter.”

Only then did Xia Jiao feel satisfied.

The key to making creamy white fish soup lies in first pan-frying the fish before boiling it. The fish should be fried over low heat, not high, to avoid burning. It is important to fry both sides thoroughly. This step is crucial because whether the fish is fried well determines whether the soup will turn the desired milky white color. After frying the fish, Wen Chongyue added a little cooking wine, simmered it briefly, and then transferred it to the soup pot. First, he brought it to a boil over high heat, then lowered the heat to simmer gently.

Simply having fish soup wouldn’t be enough for dinner, as it is important to focus on nutrition and variety. Especially for a couple, the evening meal is the only time during weekdays when they can eat slowly and comfortably together after work, so it holds a special place.

Wen Chongyue bought some water bamboo from Wuxi, the best place for this ingredient. The bamboo shoots are tender and plump, with a sweet, sticky fragrance. The local soil and climate nurture both people and plants, and Wuxi’s water bamboo is particularly tender compared to other regions. The bamboo he bought was grown in a lotus pond. Some of the shoots were slightly flattened and had rough skins, unlike the round, smooth ones found in other places.

Wen Chongyue had high standards when selecting the water bamboo. He looked for those with a fresh, light green skin and no black spots, as those would indicate older, less tender shoots. With fresh ingredients, the cooking method was simple: he cut the bamboo into chunks, sautéed them in oil, then thickened them with a light mixture of water starch and seasonings. After just two or three minutes, the dish was ready to be served.

The bacon slices were thin, wrapped around blanched okra, and pan-fried until golden on both sides. They were then arranged in a flower pattern on a white porcelain plate, with marinated pumpkin strips and jellyfish strands in the center. The bacon-wrapped okra was sprinkled with a layer of cheese powder.

Xia Jiao carefully made braised dried tofu strips, though not as grand as the Huaiyang dishes served at state banquets, she still put in her best effort, striving for perfection in every step. Since the bamboo shoots were out of season, she substituted them with shrimp, chicken breast, and dried shiitake mushrooms. Wen Chongyue didn’t interfere, occasionally glancing at his busy wife, smiling as he chopped ham.

A good black fish soup doesn’t need too much salt to flavor it. Wen Chongyue watched as the soup turned a milky white, adding the sliced ham to deepen the flavor, enhancing the aroma without being too overpowering.

As expected, during dinner, every taste bud of Xia Jiao was cured by the black fish soup. Wen Chongyue smiled and mentioned that he once had a classmate who loved soaking pancakes and rice in fish soup. Xia Jiao tried it, and it opened up a whole new world for her. However, she was controlling her carbohydrate intake and didn’t eat too much, opting to drink more of the delicious soup, which was fresh but not greasy, unlike the fish soups from take-out.

What was remarkable was the fish’s pan-fried flavor—golden and crisp on the outside with a chewy texture, while the inner fish remained tender. The black fish also had few bones, so there was no worry about being pricked. Xia Jiao ate two large pieces of fish before feeling full, leaving the rest for Wen Chongyue.

Xia Jiao’s only impression of okra was its supposed benefits for men’s health, a joke frequently made by some of the rude boys in her high school class, often alongside garlic chives. Perhaps because she didn’t appreciate such jokes, she avoided eating okra in the school cafeteria and later ate it only occasionally.

Now, she tried a slice of the bacon-wrapped okra. The bacon was crispy and fragrant, while the okra’s natural freshness and vegetable flavor balanced the richness of the bacon. Not to mention the marinated pumpkin and jellyfish in the middle of the plate—after blanching the pumpkin in hot water, it was quickly cooled in ice water, turning it into crispy, refreshing strands. When combined with the jellyfish, it was simply seasoned with scallions, sesame oil, and salt, making for a simple yet flavorful dish that was fresh and appetizing, like a cool breeze on a summer night.

Wen Chongyue gave the braised dried tofu strips made by Xia Jiao the highest praise, happily finishing them all.

And later, he had dinner with Xia Jiao.

In September, osmanthus flowers bloomed, and swallows returned south.

The vast blue waves stretched far and wide, with countless boats setting sail. The season for hairy crabs was approaching, and factories were preparing boxes labeled with “Yangcheng Lake Hairy Crabs.” Supermarkets had also set up display shelves, waiting for the crabs to hit the market so people could taste the fresh catch.

Xia Jiao wasn’t particularly interested in crabs. She passed by the osmanthus trees planted in the community every day after work, often looking up to see the tiny buds, wondering when they would bloom.

Spring brings the fragrance of the first blossoms, and autumn brings the osmanthus—these are Xia Jiao’s two favorite seasonal scents, not counting the others.

Autumn in Suzhou slowly transitioned into the off-peak tourist season, and Xia Jiao, along with Gao Chan, traveled to Beijing with Sister Lan for a display setup. It wasn’t for luxury goods but a celebration for a domestic clothing brand. These events required a lot of flowers, and the venue was large with a lot of people and various tasks. Fortunately, Zhang Yunhe and others were there to keep an eye on things, so everything went smoothly.

For business trips, they always booked double rooms, so Xia Jiao and Gao Chan shared a room. The next day, they were to return to Suzhou, and dinner was free. Gao Chan invited Xia Jiao to La Pizza for take-out pizza. When they arrived, it was already evening. Perhaps because this store offered unique pizza dumplings that weren’t common in other Italian restaurants, it attracted more international visitors. They didn’t eat in the store but instead took the food to the hotel, walking toward the hotel from the Sunken Plaza in Taikoo Li.

That evening, they had one pizza and two orders of pizza dumplings, along with cream rolls sent by Sister Lan—six pieces in total, with original, chocolate, and raspberry flavors. They were crispy and not overly sweet. Sister Lan mentioned she had specially ordered them from a delivery service and was lucky to get them early, as they would have been sold out if she’d waited longer.

Gao Chan didn’t worry much about her figure, and Xia Jiao didn’t need to maintain a perfect figure for her work. They watched a movie on the hotel TV, eating pizza, drinking soda, and chatting.

The thin-crust pizza tasted great, and Xia Jiao slowly enjoyed it while listening to Gao Chan gossiping about Zhang Yunhe and the big boss Yu Tan: “…Zhang Yunhe was one of the first students Yu Tan took in. Halfway through, there were rumors saying someone saw Zhang Yunhe and Yu Tan together…”

Xia Jiao took a sip of juice and asked, “Do you want sparkling water? I can have some sent up.”

Gao Chan replied, “Sure, thank you.”

Xia Jiao called the hotel staff to ask for sparkling water. It arrived quickly. Gao Chan opened a bottle, took a sip, and continued, “After graduating, Zhang Yunhe divorced his wife, and there were many rumors saying that Yu Tan was the third party—”

Xia Jiao interrupted her, “I don’t think she’s that kind of person.”

Gao Chan shrugged. “Sister Lan said privately that those people are just talking nonsense. They say our boss is rich, talented, and good-looking, so there’s no way she would do something like breaking up someone else’s family. But you know how it is with rumors. If they can’t find any dirt, they’ll try to make something up, hoping to drag the other person down. Well, in the end, in order to avoid suspicion, Yu Tan kicked Zhang Yunhe out.”

Xia Jiao remained silent, listening as Gao Chan continued, “Anyway, Zhang Yunhe didn’t remarry after that and hasn’t had a partner. Our boss, on the other hand, has had two boyfriends, both young and handsome… If I could do that too in the future, I’d be satisfied.”

Suddenly, Xia Jiao thought of Zhang Baolin, who was always by Yu Tan’s side. Tall and thin, a little shy, always wearing black shirts and often silent.

…Never mind, that’s someone else’s life.

Xia Jiao shook her head, trying to push those jumbled thoughts away.

She just needed to focus on her own path.

Recently, Wen Chongyue had been traveling between Beijing and Suzhou on weekends. Wen Qiming’s arm injury hadn’t fully healed, and although his heart condition was still problematic, he refused surgery and only took medication. Wen Chongyue couldn’t persuade him, so he had to go along with his father’s decision. This situation still worried him, and after Xia Jiao returned to Suzhou, she went on a walk with him after dinner and learned about it.

Wen Chongyue started sharing more about his past recently. He no longer hid his memories—those that were either heavy or suppressed—and instead began opening up a little, offering some interesting stories for Xia Jiao to hear.

For example, he shared how he had been scolded by his basketball coach during his first match, when the coach had pressed his head and yelled at him. Afterward, he practiced hard with his teammates. In the second match, the coach finally smiled and gently bumped fists with him.

As he shared these stories, the two walked through the Pingjiang area. Xia Jiao was craving the marinated chicken feet, and Wen Chongyue drove her nearby. They walked around a bit and worked up an appetite.

There were plenty of shops on Pingjiang Road selling marinated chicken feet, along with the famous mute Shengjian buns. Even though it was getting late, there was still a line. Xia Jiao had already eaten dinner, but if she hadn’t, she would’ve gotten some Shengjian and hot beef noodle soup. Her favorite marinated chicken feet shop was down a small alley on Pingjiang Road, where not only chicken feet were sold but also duck gizzards and duck tongues, all priced by the portion.

There weren’t many people at the moment, and after waiting just two minutes, she got her order, wrapped in paper bags. The food was hot, and she had to be careful not to burn herself. The rich marinade was a bit hot, and the chicken feet were tender and soft, soaking up the flavor. With each bite, her lips and teeth were covered in the delicious broth.

Xia Jiao didn’t like food that was too salty. After finishing one chicken foot, she stopped and waited. Without her saying anything, Wen Chongyue had already taken out a thermos. The cup was shaped like a tiger, containing a large thermos filled with lemon water that Wen Chongyue had made himself. It was fresh lime juice mixed with soda water, with a few ice cubes to cool and refresh.

Xia Jiao had one hand wearing a disposable glove and the other holding the chicken foot, so she couldn’t free up a hand. Wen Chongyue held the cup and fed her, and she drank slowly while he said, “Actually, I had a younger sister. She was four years younger than me.”

Xia Jiao widened her eyes. “Huh?”

“She passed away,” Wen Chongyue said. “She had a high fever, and at the time, my father was away on a business trip.”

Wen Chongyue only had vague memories of his late sister. He was younger than five at the time, and all he remembered was that before she passed away, his parents’ relationship had been good. But after she passed, Bai Ruolang became distant, often in a daze, and started throwing things, crying, and yelling at him.

The girl was named Bai Yixiao, but she passed away so quickly that she never even had a chance to be registered in the household registry. She was probably dissatisfied with the world, staying for only three months.

A newborn’s high fever was terrifying, and it happened while Wen Qiming was away on a two-day business trip. Bai Ruolang had been taking care of Wen Chongyue and the baby, with an elderly nanny helping. The nanny relied on “parenting experience” and confidently suggested remedies like rolling an egg and using a towel to lower the fever. Normally, Wen Chongyue was cared for by Wen Qiming. Bai Ruolang had no experience with babies and trusted the nanny’s advice, especially when the baby stopped crying, thinking the treatment had worked. But the next morning, the baby had stopped breathing.

Wen Chongyue remembered how Bai Ruolang had grabbed a knife, driven the nanny out of the house, and silently held his sister in her arms. She asked him to fetch milk powder for the baby.

When Wen Congyue returned with the milk powder, he saw Bai Ruolang with her face pressed against the baby’s blanket, silently crying.

…

“Because of this, my father has always felt guilty towards her,” Wen Chongyue said, moving the thermos and closing the lid. “Sorry, I’m only telling you this now.”

Xia Jiao shook her head vigorously. “It’s okay.”

She finished all the marinated chicken feet, discarded the gloves, and wiped her lips and fingers with a wet wipe. Once she was sure there was no grease on her hands, she gently hooked Wen Chongyue’s hand with her little pinky.

He felt it, moved slightly, and naturally grasped her hand.

Xia Jiao said, “I can understand Aunt Bai’s feelings, and I know both you and Dad care about me a lot. Hmm… So, I understand all those things. Don’t worry.”

“And as for you,” Xia Jiao continued, “Teacher Wen, if you ever have something on your mind, you don’t have to keep it to yourself. Talk to me. It might make things easier.”

Wen Chongyue studied her carefully. “Are you planning to be my teacher, Jiao Jiao?”

Xia Jiao pondered for a moment. “Maybe I could try playing the role of a female teacher with a male student?”

Wen Chongyue only smiled. “Though it might be a bit awkward, if you like it, I’m willing to sacrifice my body.”

But he wasn’t going to sacrifice anything.

Xia Jiao muttered softly, “Tch, tch, tch,” and pulled Wen Chongyue’s hand, urging him to take back his words.

She didn’t like that term, even though she knew it was just teasing. The implication behind it wasn’t too pleasant.

She realized she was being a bit superstitious, caring about such a small word.

The flowers in the flower shop continued to bloom daily, but with the changing seasons, the variety of flowers also shifted. Birds of Paradise, Chrysanthemums, Celosia, Dahlias, Kangaroo Paws, and Ferns… Autumn customers preferred flowers with seasonal tones and colors, and Xia Jiao also began her grueling second driving test.

As someone who had only ever driven in QQ, QQ Speed, and Grand Theft Auto, Xia Jiao’s practice for the second driving test could be called “hell mode.” Like driving instructors across the country, Xia Jiao had an extremely fierce instructor—so strict that Xia Jiao dared not speak to him on her own.

Especially after witnessing him scold a female student to tears in just three minutes.

Xia Jiao nervously took her place.

Clutch, accelerator, brake… After briefly learning these three basics, she moved on to the turn signals and steering wheel…

Xia Jiao was not good at interacting with strangers, especially with a fierce-looking instructor. The more nervous she got, the less she could remember. Thankfully, the instructor did not shout at her—Xia Jiao’s driving school was run by Wen Chongyue’s friend, and the coach who claimed to have the highest passing rate was also the one introduced to her by Wen Chongyue. Perhaps out of consideration for this connection, the instructor remained silent, his face flushed red, hands clenched into fists as he repeatedly slammed them against the car door while Xia Jiao fumbled with the steering wheel.

When she left, Xia Jiao asked with concern, “Instructor, does your hand hurt?”

The instructor replied, “No, but my head hurts.”

Xia Jiao: “…”

Despite the teasing, Xia Jiao’s weekends had become a routine of breakfast, driving practice, lunch, more driving practice, being picked up by Teacher Wen, resting, playing with the cat, and napping with Teacher Wen. As for Wen Chongyue’s weekends, they still consisted of dropping Xia Jiao off for driving practice, engaging in some outdoor activities, picking Xia Jiao up, grocery shopping, cooking, and sleeping with Xia Jiao.

Perfect.

The flower shop was not too busy. An elderly man would come in daily, pushing his wife, who was chatty and often spoke with Xia Jiao about interesting trivial matters. Occasionally, she would offer her thoughts on the flower shop’s window display. Gao Chan and Yu Qingzhen didn’t think much of it, but Xia Jiao listened carefully. After a deeper conversation, she learned that the elderly woman, Mrs. Song, was a painter.

“Painter or not,” Mrs. Song chuckled, “I’m just a craftsman now, too old to hold a brush.”

As usual, the elderly man bought roses, and Mrs. Song would smile as she hugged them, bidding Xia Jiao farewell.

Occasionally, they would encounter some strange individuals. Gao Chan secretly told Xia Jiao that a peculiar boy had been standing outside the shop for three days. He wore vocational school uniform pants, a black T-shirt, had a buzz cut, and his school uniform was tied around his waist. He looked like a troublemaker, not a good student, and would just stand outside the glass window, staring at the flowers.

“He can’t be thinking of ‘zero-cost shopping,’ can he?” Gao Chan worried, “I’m really afraid he’ll rush into the shop one day and run off with flowers.”

Xia Jiao glanced down at the flower expenses. “Don’t worry. There’s a police station nearby. Our glass is bulletproof, and there’s surveillance. What are you afraid of? Besides, he’s just a middle schooler, and we have plenty of people in the shop.”

Gao Chan replied, “You don’t understand. Some bad people these days, relying on the minor protection law, like to do bad things…”

At that moment, Xia Jiao looked up and saw the boy standing outside the window, now nearly pressed up against the glass, staring intently at the flowers. She noticed a scar above his eyebrow, probably from a childhood injury. The scar prevented the growth of hair, and the broken eyebrow gave him a fierce look.

Xia Jiao had been isolated in middle school and naturally didn’t like such “bad kids.” As her shift ended, she finished organizing the flowers. When she left, she saw the boy still standing outside. Perhaps sensing someone was watching, their eyes met, and the boy hurriedly walked away.

The boy’s school was nearby, and Xia Jiao saw him a few more times afterward. Once, she spotted him in an alley, fighting in a group, and the boy with the buzz cut was the most violent. Another time, while waiting for the bus, the boy, with a band-aid on his face, was smoking with his head down, while passersby covered their noses. The third time, in the evening, Xia Jiao had just walked out of Yu Tan’s house and saw the buzz-cut boy standing in the shadows, smoking and leaning casually, wearing the same old school uniform. In front of him, a middle-aged man was counting money and handing it to him.

It didn’t seem like much at first, but after these encounters, Xia Jiao started to worry that the boy might “rob the flower shop.”

Although there were many staff in the shop, most of the time, it was the girls on duty. In case of an emergency, they might not have the upper hand.

Fortunately, nothing terrible had happened so far.

“It’s impossible,” Yu Qingzhen handed Gao Chan a paper bag filled with puff pastries, signaling her to try one. “Boys in their teenage years just like to look at beautiful girls. This boy is probably just watching us. Don’t pay him any attention. It’s not like looking at us will cost him anything.”

Xia Jiao didn’t eat the puff pastry. Her nose had been slightly congested these days, probably due to the changing seasons, so she wasn’t in the mood for sweets.

It was lunchtime, and as a gesture of reciprocation, Gao Chan, having eaten Yu Qingzhen’s puff pastry, shared a bottle of yogurt with her. Yu Qingzhen glanced at it and said, “I don’t drink store-bought yogurt. Old Wang said they add too many additives, and it’s unhealthy. If I want yogurt, he brings me the one made by his family’s chef, naturally fermented. It’s completely different from the machine-processed stuff…”

Old Wang was her wealthy boyfriend.

Gao Chan quietly took the yogurt back and opened the straw, taking a big sip.

She said, “I just like drinking unhealthy things.”

Yu Qingzhen laughed and said, “Girls need to learn to take care of themselves. Youth only lasts a few years, so why not enjoy it? Eat well, drink well. Don’t rush into the graveyard of marriage too early—”

She paused, then smiled apologetically at Xia Jiao. “Sorry, I wasn’t talking about you.”

Xia Jiao looked up, confused. “Huh? What?”

Seeing Xia Jiao’s clueless expression, Yu Qingzhen smiled. “Nothing, continue eating.”

Gao Chan was already drooling as she looked at Xia Jiao’s lunch box. “Wuwuwu, I see it, Jiao Jiao! Is there tuna sushi in your lunch today? Can I trade one for my precious lion’s head meatball?”

Xia Jiao laughed and exchanged with her. She wasn’t stingy, and besides, after discovering that some colleagues liked swapping parts of their lunch with Jiao Jiao, Wen Chongyue always made sure to prepare an equal number of dishes for her. She could trade a lion’s head meatball for a tuna sushi in return.

Yu Qingzhen had no interest in swapping lunches with Xia Jiao. She was leisurely sipping on the bottled milk her boyfriend had prepared for her. It was fresh milk, squeezed from cows in the early morning and filtered specially by machines to ensure it was clean and fresh.

Just thinking about the money she had given her boyfriend that was steadily increasing in value made Yu Qingzhen feel even more upbeat, as if the sun was shining brighter and the future was full of possibilities.

It was the weekend.

Xia Jiao’s coach had taken a sick day, claiming a headache and going to see a doctor. Xia Jiao, lying on the bed, had just happily shared with Wen Chongyue that she wouldn’t need to practice driving that day. To her surprise, he took off his apron, thought for a moment, and said, “Do you need me to teach you?”

Xia Jiao blinked. “Huh?”

Wen Chongyue modestly responded, “My driving skills aren’t that good, but I can teach you the second driving test, it’s no problem.”

Xia Jiao laughed, “No need to be modest, Teacher Wen. Whether it’s in bed or on the road, your driving skills are this—” She gave him a thumbs up.

Wen Chongyue chuckled, lightly tapping her head. “Alright, no more teasing. Come down and eat. Guess what I baked today?”

It was freshly baked, fragrant matcha red bean scones.

Wen Chongyue had initially planned to pack them into a box for Xia Jiao to snack on during her driving practice. Now, with the driving school’s permission, he was able to teach her privately using their car and facilities. While drinking warm tea, Xia Jiao happily devoured the scones that Wen Chongyue had made.

There was no doubt that Wen Chongyue was a great teacher, whether in bed or on the road.

Once in the car, he patiently guided Xia Jiao, helping her become familiar with every instrument inside the vehicle. Unlike her previous coach, Wen Chongyue made sure she fully understood all the functions of the car, not just the basic features needed for the test.

Xia Jiao took a deep breath as Wen Chongyue had her practice driving at a slow speed around the exam grounds to get used to the turn signals.

Even so, when it came to the first turn, Xia Jiao accidentally used the wrong turn signal.

She quickly corrected it, sighed in relief, and explained, “I was too nervous just now and messed up.”

Wen Chongyue chuckled. “Oh, you did it by accident? I thought you were trying to confuse the enemy.”

Xia Jiao: “……”

Wen Chongyue praised her. “Jiao Jiao, you have the talent to be both an excellent spy and a skilled racer.”

Xia Jiao politely responded, “Teacher Wen, please stay silent for now. Otherwise, you might not get the chance to drive with me, this excellent racer, later tonight.”