Chapter 12: Something Good Will Happen

Shanhai Street – Lao Pu’s Ceramics Shop

Pu Jialiang held two bowls of Worry-Free Scallion Oil Noodles in his hands, trying earnestly to convince his dad. “Dad, you’ve got to eat something. You can’t just go without food.”

Something had happened at home, and the old man was visibly anxious. He hadn’t eaten properly all day. Pu Jialiang had rushed home from work, the scent of scallion oil wafting through the street giving him an idea. Remembering how much his dad used to love scallion noodles, he managed to grab two portions before they sold out.

It had been a while since he’d last been on Shanhai Street, and he hadn’t even realized a new restaurant had opened. Well, new might not be the right word. The place was set up in the same spot as an old failed restaurant—Number 12 Shanhai Street—but all they did was clean up the place; no renovations, no fanfare.

Old Pu’s hair had gone completely gray, and the deep lines on his face looked like they’d been carved by a chisel. He slammed his hand on the table, his voice sharp. “How can I eat when Yao Yao is still missing?”

Before Jialiang could say anything, the old man got up again. “I’ll go out and look some more. Yao Yao is such a good dog; there’s no way she could have gone far!”

Yao Yao was a big yellow dog that Old Pu had found and raised himself. Without any grandkids to dote on, all his affection had gone to Yao Yao. Last night, she’d dug a hole in the yard and somehow slipped out. She still hadn’t come back.

Stubborn and hot-tempered his whole life, Old Pu was ready to rush out again without a second thought. Jialiang hurried to stop him. “Dad, you’ve been searching all day. If you keep this up, you’re going to pass out from low blood sugar! Look, I’ve printed some flyers, and Taotao at the restaurant said he’d help me hand them out. I’ll go put them up around the neighborhood in a bit. Let’s ask the neighbors to keep an eye out—maybe someone’s seen her. Just eat a little first, okay? Take a breather, then we can head out again.”

Jialiang’s earnest pleading finally got through to the old man.

Old Pu had always been an odd character. Ever since he was young, he’d thrown himself completely into ceramics, hardly ever mingling with the neighbors. When Yao Yao went missing, it didn’t even cross his mind to ask for help. He’d just spent the whole day looking by himself.

His outburst left him feeling light-headed, though, so he reluctantly sat back down, his face still stiff.

Jialiang quickly opened up the food containers, unwrapped a pair of disposable chopsticks, and handed them to him. “Try some. They call it Worry-Free Scallion Oil Noodles. Even if it’s just for the name, let’s hope it brings a bit of good luck.”

Old Pu grew his own vegetables in the yard and cooked all his meals himself. He hadn’t even realized there was a restaurant on the street. He didn’t believe for a second that a bowl of noodles could chase away his worries, but… the smell was incredible.

He figured he’d take a few bites to appease his nagging son. But the moment he took that first mouthful, his weathered eyes widened in surprise, unable to hide his astonishment.

At his age, he’d eaten plenty of delicious food in his time, even traveled a bit because of his craft. Yet, he had never tasted noodles quite like these.

The aroma of the scallion oil was rich and lingering, filling the entire room. The noodles were perfectly cooked—just the right thickness, with a smooth, springy texture. Even with his weaker teeth, they were easy to eat. Each strand of noodle was coated with the scallion oil, silky and full of flavor. Before he knew it, he’d polished off half the bowl.

His restlessness seemed to dissipate, replaced by a calmness that felt almost tangible. For the first time in a while, his mind was clear. He noticed the cool evening breeze drifting through the shop, heard the soft tinkling of ceramic wind chimes hanging from the eaves, and caught snippets of passersby chatting about the vibrant hues of the sunset.

When he came back to his senses, the bowl in front of him was empty. It was the first time all summer he’d had such a good appetite. Across the table, his son sat quietly, the rare silence creating a moment of shared understanding. Their eyes met—peaceful, yet both surprised by the noodles.

Worry-Free Scallion Oil Noodles. Turns out the name wasn’t just for show. A single bowl really could lift your spirits!

Jialiang poured his dad a glass of water. “Feeling better now?”

Old Pu nodded. “The noodles were excellent.”

He stood up again, still worried but no longer frantic. “Alright, let’s go. I’ll help you put up the flyers.”

Earlier that day – Shanhai Street, Taotie Delicacies

Yun Tao held one of Jialiang’s flyers and pointed at the photo of the missing yellow dog. “Find this dog,” he instructed Taxue.

Yun Tao had been swamped lately and didn’t remember seeing this particular dog around. But Taxue, the feline overlord of Shanhai Street, knew the area like the back of his paw. There was no need to trouble Yun Fenghe—Taxue could handle this himself.

The big cat glanced at the photo, gave a small nod, and led his squad of cats out on the mission.

Yun Tao called after him, “If you run into any trouble you can’t handle, come back and get backup.”

Taxue didn’t even turn around, meowing a casual “Got it!”

Watching this unfold, Gu Momo, who’d been waiting with her noodles, couldn’t help but ask, “You can talk to cats?”

Yun Tao nodded.

“So… it’s actually off to look for the dog?”

“Yep.” Yun Tao pointed at the scallion oil noodles in her hands. “Aren’t you heading home yet? They’ll taste terrible if they get soggy.”

Those were the last two servings of Worry-Free Scallion Oil Noodles for the day—double the luck.

Gu Momo’s eyes drooped, her whole demeanor radiating low spirits, like someone who’d had a really bad day. Around other adults, she’d usually put on a brave face, hiding her emotions even when her heart felt like it was in knots. But being shown concern by a little kid she’d just met? That hit differently. She let her guard down, and the words spilled out: “I don’t really want to go home right now.”

Yun Tao looked up at her. “Then stay here and eat with us! We’re about to have dinner anyway. My brother made watermelon juice and some cold dishes.”

“Can I… can I pay for it?” Gu Momo asked, feeling a little awkward about freeloading.

Yun Fenghe gave her a kind smile. “It’s just some simple dishes—don’t worry about it. Come on in and have a seat.”

Touched by their hospitality, Gu Momo stopped hesitating and brought her scallion oil noodles to the table.

Tonight’s meal was simple: their main dish was also scallion oil noodles, accompanied by a few home-style sides and a big pitcher of watermelon juice. Yun Tao tried to grab the juice, but Tai Sui swooped in, filling his massive bowl and plunking a straw in it before pouring smaller cups for Yun Fenghe and Gu Momo.

“Thank you,” Gu Momo murmured as she took a sip of the juice.

“Big sis, something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Yun Tao asked, blinking innocently. “You look a little sad.”

The question caught Gu Momo off guard. She hadn’t expected the child to be so perceptive and froze for a second.

“If you feel like sharing, that’s okay,” Yun Fenghe said gently, encouraging her.

Faced with their genuine concern, Gu Momo’s eyes reddened, and after a moment of hesitation, she opened up. “It’s not that big of a deal, really…”

Gu Momo was a junior in college and currently interning at a design company run by her advisor, Professor Chen. Recently, the company had brought in a new intern—a parachute hire who, out of nowhere, was named the team lead for the other interns by their manager.

Everyone in the group had been personally selected by Professor Chen, and they were all top-notch students with solid resumes, plenty of competition experience, and a strong work ethic. They’d been grinding hard on a project for an international design competition when this new guy showed up. He claimed Professor Chen had specifically requested him to join their team and demanded his name be added to their nearly finished project—right at the top of the credits.

With Professor Chen away on a business trip, they couldn’t confirm this, and when the team leader asked their manager, he grudgingly admitted it was true. Out of respect for their professor, they swallowed their frustration and assigned the new guy some work.

“But he’s completely useless,” Gu Momo fumed. “We asked him to translate a short design brief, and he just copied and pasted it into a translation app—it was full of errors. Then we had him revise a hand-drawn design, something even a freshman could handle, and he just slapped a filter on it and tried to pass it off as done.”

Yun Tao puffed up indignantly. “That’s so unfair! I wouldn’t let him get away with it!”

“We didn’t,” Gu Momo said, her voice shaking slightly. “I told him he should withdraw voluntarily, or we’d take it to Professor Chen. He agreed to my face, but then he turned around and anonymously accused us of ostracizing him on the company forum. Now that we’re almost done with the project, it feels like he’s just waiting for us to kick him out so he can play the victim.”

“What a jerk!” Yun Tao exclaimed, cheeks puffed with anger.

“It’s not that we can’t deal with him,” Gu Momo sighed. “It’s just… so disgusting. And honestly, it’s making me doubt Professor Chen. She’s always been someone I respected—a mentor who balances talent with principles. If she really made this call, it’s hard not to feel let down.”

She clenched her fists. “Anyway, we’re not backing down. Our team lead has already cleared things up on the forum. Once I get home, I’m calling Professor Chen to talk things through. I don’t want any misunderstandings between us, and I won’t let this mess hurt my chances of working with her during grad school.”

Yun Fenghe slid a plate of vegetables toward her. “First, eat something. You’ll need your strength to handle it.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Gu Momo picked up her chopsticks, twirling a big bite of noodles. As soon as she tasted it, her eyes widened in disbelief. She swallowed, stared at the bowl, and blurted out, “This is amazing.”

Way better than she’d expected.

Tai Sui, who’d been quietly eating this whole time, finally spoke. “Eat more. If it’s not enough, we’ll make more.”

Despite his intimidating aura, Tai Sui’s words carried a warmth that caught Gu Momo off guard. She’d been worried he might find her chatter annoying, but now she realized he was just the type to show his care through actions, not words.

With every bite of noodles, Gu Momo felt lighter, her frustration and sadness melting away like the noodles themselves. She was even starting to see the bigger picture: this wasn’t some life-defining catastrophe, just a small hurdle on her journey into the real world. She’d let a petty person get under her skin, but now she saw things clearly again.

When the last of her negative emotions receded, all that remained was a comforting warmth. She thought of her supportive teammates, her mentor’s integrity, and the kindness of these strangers. For the first time that day, she let herself cry.

“Don’t cry!” Yun Tao reached out with tiny hands, offering her a tissue. She frowned a little. Huh? Didn’t the noodles work? Why’s big sis crying little pearls now?

Gu Momo took the tissue, laughing through her tears. “Thanks, kiddo. It’s just… I’ve never had noodles this good before.”

Earlier, when she’d been spiraling, afraid she’d do something rash, she’d decided to take a break and distract herself. A random scroll through her phone led her to this place. It wasn’t far from home, tucked into a quiet street that was perfect for clearing her head. And then, drawn by the scent of scallion oil wafting through the air, she’d walked in.

That spur-of-the-moment decision turned out to be just what she needed.

“Come back anytime,” Yun Tao said brightly.

Gu Momo wiped her face, her smile genuine now. “I will.”

After dinner, Gu Momo offered to help with the dishes, but Yun Tao stopped her, pressing a piece of candy into her palm instead.

“No need to help,” Yun Tao said, beaming as the evening sunlight lit up her eyes. “Go home and rest. You’ve had the noodles, so good things are definitely coming your way.”

Gu Momo closed her hand around the candy, holding onto its tiny warmth.

She hadn’t even tasted it yet, but somehow, her world already felt sweeter.