Wan San Ti

Sometimes, a city is chosen because of a person.

It might sound foolish.

But because the city was Beijing, Xia Jiao’s teachers and parents believed she had great aspirations.

In Jiangsu, where the college entrance exams are notoriously challenging, Xia Jiao used to arrive at the classroom early, sometimes being the first or second student there. Like in many competitive provinces, the so-called “involution” often started with the students themselves rather than the school’s rigorous demands.

In such a cutthroat environment, ordinary students had no choice but to work harder than ever.

Morning reading for seniors began at six o’clock. Only after it ended could they have breakfast. Both morning and afternoon breaks included mandatory group exercises, a schedule followed by almost every school.

Xia Jiao typically arrived at the classroom around 5:40 a.m. During summer, the sky was still dim, the horizon shrouded in a faint haze. Students woke earlier than the sun, passing sanitation workers sweeping the streets and fellow students heading to the teaching building with backpacks.

During morning reading, many sleepy students would leave the classroom to recite in the hallway. Xia Jiao had tried this too. The summer morning breeze carried a slight chill before the day’s heat set in, mixed with the unique humidity of southern air. The cool wind brushing against her neck felt like sinking into the sea under the sunlight, slowly awakening in the ocean’s gentle embrace.

In this atmosphere, she repeatedly memorized English vocabulary, practiced speaking, recited texts, and learned ancient Chinese poems.

Her future plans weren’t particularly clear, much like most high school students. If asked about her life goals, she would confidently say she wanted to get into a good university. As for career aspirations or long-term dreams, those were distant thoughts.

Morning study sessions were anything but easy. If hard work were effortless, it wouldn’t be praised as a virtue. Xia Jiao vividly remembered the grogginess during morning reading, the refreshing breeze in the hallway, and the relief of lining up at the cafeteria for breakfast afterward. The cafeteria’s buns were soft and fluffy, collapsing instantly when pinched. Her favorite was the three-diced meat bun, bursting with the savory aroma of pork. The congee wasn’t too hot; Xia Jiao often ordered eight-treasure porridge, thick and creamy, with red beans and glutinous rice cooked to a soft, mushy perfection. She’d stick to one breakfast combination for a week before switching to a new one for the next.

The motivation that pushed her to study hard and aim for the best schools came from the person who now cuts her open like a small silver fish.

Xia Jiao’s neck and forehead were covered in a layer of sweat, as though summer hadn’t yet passed and the heat still lingered. Her back felt a bit warm and itchy. She heard Wen Chongyue softly call her “Xiao Jiaojiao,” an overly sweet nickname that had become his special term of endearment.

Xia Jiao wanted to cover his mouth to stop him from calling her by that nickname, but her back was pushed deeply upwards by the force, moving a long way in an upward direction. Wen Chongyue’s fingers were pressing on the back of her head, just as Xia Jiao held a kitten. She, too, was gently embraced and controlled by her lover.

Xia Jiao admitted that she was lucky. She had achieved a goal that seemed almost impossible. It was like an endless universe of brilliance, with stars bursting into light. She heard Wen Chongyue’s low voice, as he leaned in to kiss her. Xia Jiao held him tightly, feeling as if she were gently falling into the sea, surrounded by seaweed, her eyes closing.

She sincerely appreciated everything she had at this moment.

Xia Jiao quietly bit his shoulder, but was caught. Wen Chongyue didn’t stop her; instead, he teasingly smiled, “Craving something? What kind of meat do you want? But just so you know, we can’t eat human meat.”

Xia Jiao chuckled, thinking for a moment, “So, what meat is best at this time of year?”

Wen Chongyue thought for a moment and made a suggestion, “How about an old duck stew?”

Xia Jiao hesitated, “Do you mean the sour bamboo shoot old duck stew? I think the sour bamboo has quite a strong flavor…”

She had tried it once before and wasn’t fond of it.

“Sour bamboo shoot duck stew,” Wen Chongyue said, “If you don’t like the sour bamboo, we can just use dried bamboo shoots. Remember? In spring, we dried some bamboo shoots, and now they’re ready to use.”

Ah, Xia Jiao finally remembered. In the spring, Wen Chongyue had bought a lot of bamboo shoots, some of which he had dried.

Before Qingming Festival, Wen Chongyue had carefully selected the spring bamboo shoots. He liked to buy tender ones, intending to dry them. The process involved peeling, removing old parts, blanching, and drying… It wasn’t difficult, but required patience. When the bamboo shoots were drying, the whole room filled with their fresh fragrance, not unpleasant, like just stepping out of a bamboo forest. Out of over thirty pounds of bamboo shoots, they ended up with only about two pounds of dried bamboo shoots, which they’d save for when the weather turned cold to make soup.

Like in autumn.

The process of soaking dried bamboo shoots was slow, requiring patience. It wasn’t a quick dish. The dried bamboo shoots were soaked in hot water for two days and one night, with the water being changed every 12 hours. Afterward, they were placed in a pressure cooker for a short time. The old duck used for the stew was a Shaoxing old duck, about two years old, with firm meat. Wen Chongyue had the butcher chop it into pieces, as he thought it was a bit unseemly to chop meat in front of his wife.

The key to the soup was to slow-cook it in a clay pot, requiring patience. Wen Chongyue also added some ham, taro, and codonopsis. Codonopsis nourishes the Yin, helping Xia Jiao to replenish her health and prevent a seasonal cold. Five minutes before finishing, he added some cordyceps and goji berries.

In Hangzhou, people typically eat old duck soup in the summer for its nourishing qualities, but it also has a special flavor in autumn. At this time, the old ducks are flavorful and tough, with the meat tender but not falling apart, and the broth rich and fresh. The dried bamboo shoots, softened by time and hot water, absorbed the old duck broth, becoming both crunchy and tender. The flavor was different from spring bamboo shoots. Xia Jiao ate almost half of the dried bamboo shoots, then lay on the sofa, covering her stomach while Wen Chongyue gently rubbed her full belly.

The autumn rain fell softly outside, and the TV played “Love Letter,” a classic movie about first love. The movie had a soothing pace, and Xia Jiao had fallen asleep every time she tried to watch it before. Today, however, was different. Perhaps it was because she had just eaten, and felt drowsy and relaxed enough to enjoy it.

Wen Chongyue slowly rubbed her belly and suddenly asked, “Do you like this kind of pure movie?”

Xia Jiao shook her head, with a dried plum in her mouth, “No, actually, I prefer faster-paced ones. Like, getting straight to the point, with a chase or something exciting.”

Wen Chongyue raised an eyebrow, “Like what?”

Xia Jiao thought for a while, but couldn’t come up with an example. She said after a pause, “Well, compared to those movies about secretive teenage love, I like the ones with dramatic twists… something thrilling.”

Wen Chongyue laughed heartily, “I see.”

He said meaningfully, “So you like love that grows over time.”

Xia Jiao stuffed the dried plum into his mouth, “Please, Teacher Wen, think about it quietly in your heart. I still get shy.”

Looking back, Xia Jiao had become bolder, now able to express her feelings freely, whether she was happy or not. The afternoon sun was pleasant, and the quiet autumn in Suzhou was comfortable. The two had agreed to rest well today. After Xia Jiao finished her nap, they would spend the rest of the day exploring Zhouzhuang, then return the next day.

In their busy lives, weekends needed to satisfy both relaxation and a bit of adventure. This morning, Xia Jiao had slept in at home while Wen Chongyue went to the gym. By 11 AM, he was home, preparing lunch. After returning from Zhouzhuang tomorrow, they would rest and resume work on Monday.

Wen Chongyue carefully planned every weekend, balancing time spent with his wife and their dates.

The two cats licked each other’s fur. Xia Mi, the more daring one, always tried to climb onto the back of Wen Quan, but would always be pinned down and end up with a face full of slobber. The cats’ water dispensers were working fine, and their automatic feeder was full. Wen Chongyue opened a can for each cat, cleaned their litter box, and after taking care of everything, he washed his hands and joined Xia Jiao on the sofa to watch the movie.

While watching, Xia Jiao couldn’t sit still and often snacked. Even when she was full, she still found herself nibbling on something. She had finished the bamboo shoots, peanuts, and hawthorn slices earlier, and today, she was eating dried plums. They were hard and sour, helping to whet the appetite. As she ate, she watched the movie, sighing, “Why does Fujii love Fujii so much, and then marry someone who looks just like her?”

As they watched the video, Xia Jiao couldn’t keep her mouth still. Even though she was already full, she still couldn’t resist popping a little something into her mouth to chew. She had finished the dried bamboo shoots, peanuts, and hawthorn slices, and now her snack was sour plum—tough and tangy, perfect for refreshing her taste buds. While she chewed, her eyes remained fixed on the screen. She sighed and said, “Why does Fujii Tree like Fujii Tree so much, and then marry someone who looks just like her?”

Wen Chongyue lowered his head, and just as Xia Jiao was about to put the snack into her mouth, she raised it again and fed it to him.

The dried plums were sour and tangy, with little sugar used, the sourness overwhelming the sweetness. Wen Chongyue held it in his mouth, staring at her, and slowly said, “Perhaps an unfulfilled first love is truly a first love. One can’t live forever in the past, nor can one abandon the present for an impossible crush.”

Xia Jiao shook her head. “I don’t think that way… Hmm, how should I put it? Have you heard this saying? ‘Everything or nothing.'”

Wen Chongyue asked, “Rimbaud?”

“Yes,” Xia Jiao nodded vigorously. “That’s how I see love. Still, if you give me something and give it to others too, it’s better not to give it to me at all. I don’t want something that everyone can have. I want something unique, something one-of-a-kind.”

Wen Chongyue pondered this. “Then, if I give red envelopes to my subordinates and also to you, would you still want it?”

Xia Jiao was silent for three seconds. “Except for money.”

Wen Chongyue smiled. “Didn’t you just say you don’t want the same thing as everyone else?”

“But money is different!” Xia Jiao explained seriously. “Money is special, it’s noble. Every banknote has a unique code… and even electronic currency is unique.”

Wen Chongyue laughed out loud, finishing the plum. He then leaned down to take the snack from Xia Jiao’s hand, placed it in his mouth, and his tongue gently brushed her fingertips. The plum, sour and sweet, tasted especially unique as though it had been rolled in honey.

The trend for ancient towns, Tibet, Lijiang, and Dali has never faded in recent years. With the growing economy, more and more people travel, and correspondingly, the service facilities in various ancient towns and cities have been continuously improved. In comparison, the Jiangnan water towns seem to be better suited for occasional holiday trips, especially the ancient towns around Taihu Lake, which are famous and still attract visitors even in the off-season. When they arrived, it was nearing evening. The night view of Jiangnan water towns is generally unremarkable, but the inns by the river have their own unique charm. The couple stayed at a guesthouse near Nanhu, where the round bed with a canopy gave off an elegant vibe.

That evening, they naturally had to try the famous “Wan San Ti,” a dish found in many food stalls in Zhouzhuang, though its taste was not always guaranteed. Xia Jiao couldn’t eat anything too greasy at night, so she ordered a plate of “Aozao noodles,” which sounded odd but was actually topped with duck meat. Along with it, she ordered a serving of Wan San Ti, steamed white silk fish, and a dish of water gluten skin with three-flavor rounds. There were two braised carp and a plate of old lady’s greens. After dinner, they strolled along the ancient town, and when tired, they could go to a bar for a drink and some fun.

They stayed in the lakeside room, and the round bed was very comfortable, providing a good view from all angles. Wen Chongyue was very satisfied and even thought about replacing their bed at home with something like this.

Xia Jiao was more interested in a tea house in town. After a quick search, she learned that Sanmao once drank tea there, and the owner had posted letters exchanged with her. Wen Chongyue, of course, satisfied his wife’s wish. This was his temperament—tolerant and easygoing. As long as it wasn’t an excessive request, he would typically indulge Xia Jiao.

Because of this, Xia Jiao was willing to chat with him, to open up.

No matter what she said, he would listen carefully, patiently helping her analyze and guide her.

“You know?” Sitting by the lake, Xia Jiao rested her chin in her hands, speaking earnestly to Wen Chongyue. “When I was growing up, my parents used to always say to me, ‘Our family is poor, you need to work hard.'”

Wen Chongyue listened quietly.

A cool breeze blew in through the window, diluting the tea fragrance. Xia Jiao lowered her head, her eyelashes looking like delicate butterfly wings—clean and gentle.

“Our family isn’t as rich as theirs.”

“Studying is more important than eating and dressing. You need to focus on your studies.”

“Do you know how hard it was for me and your mom to support you through school?”

Xia Jiao had heard these kinds of things while growing up during her awkward teenage years. After living with her parents, they often talked about how hard it was to make money, how tough it was to raise her, and urged her to study hard.

Xia Jiao understood that they loved her, and she knew they didn’t want her to develop extravagant habits.

However, for a child—especially one who hadn’t reached adulthood and whose values were still forming—hearing about their struggles would naturally leave a shadow of inferiority and caution in her heart.

She didn’t dare to make mistakes, always subconsciously thinking of what her parents said: “Our family isn’t as rich as theirs.” She worried that making a mistake would bring an unbearable burden to the family. Thus, throughout her adolescence, she was careful, controlling her desires, and kept herself in a gray shadow.

Her parents always praised her for being obedient and sensible, but Xia Jiao knew clearly that she didn’t like this “obedience” and certainly didn’t like this “sensibility.”

She couldn’t blame her parents—they had grown up in an era where “just enough to eat and keep warm” was considered good. In their eyes, as long as their child wore clean clothes, had a balanced diet, could go to school, and attended extra lessons, it was already quite good.

It was their first time being parents, and Xia Jiao understood them.

But still, she couldn’t help wondering—if her parents hadn’t raised her this way, would she have been more confident in social situations?

Just like Teacher Wen.

“Actually, I envy women like Wanju,” Xia Jiao said. “She’s smart, not shy, and has great social skills. It seems like she can handle any situation.”

After a pause, she added, “And there’s Song Xiao. She’s brave and generous.”

Wen Chongyue didn’t expect her to mention Song Xiao and casually said, “From a superior’s perspective, her work ability is indeed impressive.”

Xia Jiao nodded.

Wen Chongyue said, “It sounds like you want to solve this concern.”

Xia Jiao sighed. “I’ve tried… but it doesn’t seem to help. When I was in college, Wan Ju helped me with desensitization therapy. Hmm, you probably saw it. It might be a little better at work, but… when I’m acting as a consumer, it’s hard for me to be confident around others.”

She lowered her head. “When I was little, walking through those mall counters, my mom would always pull my hand and hurry past, saying ‘We can’t afford it.’ I always thought those things must be so expensive, that my parents would have to work for a whole year to buy them. Later, I realized those face creams didn’t even cost a hundred yuan.”

Xia Jiao said, “Mom just felt there was no need to buy it. I didn’t mean to complain, I just wanted to say that this matter had a huge impact.”

She continued, “Do you know? It wasn’t until I went to college that I dared to go into high-end malls. Before that, when I saw them, I instinctively avoided them. A single comment from my teenage years had such a big effect, so big that it took me years to finally step out of the shadow.”

Wen Chongyue held her hand. Xia Jiao’s palm was soft. She had indeed grown, and she was now more familiar with him. She had never shared this with him before, but today, she quietly opened up. However, after finishing her words, she felt a bit embarrassed, as if she were showing him the sensitive, slightly self-conscious girl from her teenage years. This feeling of slight shame made her whisper, “Do you think I’m too sensitive?”

“No,” Wen Chongyue replied slowly. “I’m just a bit sad.”

Xia Jiao didn’t understand. “What are you sad about?”

Wen Chongyue said, “If I had met you earlier, that little Xia Jiao might have been happier.”

Xia Jiao sighed in relief. “Actually, I’m really happy now.”

Wen Chongyue shook his head. “If you were my sister—”

Xia Jiao immediately crossed her arms.

She said, “Teacher Wen, please don’t think of anything strange, okay? With the current pandemic, I really don’t want to go with you to Germany to see an orthopedic doctor.”