The courtyard was already wrapped in the soft embrace of evening when Jia Lan wheeled her bicycle inside. The gate creaked faintly as she pushed it shut, the sound mingling with the distant laughter of children still playing on the street. A cool breeze drifted through the air, carrying with it the lingering warmth of the day along with the faint fragrance of blooming osmanthus from a neighbor's tree. More prominently, a rich, mouthwatering aroma floated from her own kitchen—savory, warm, and familiar, curling through the air like a welcoming hand.
Jia Lan's stomach gave a soft rumble in response, reminding her that though she had eaten well at the restaurant, the ride home and the crispness of the evening had awakened her appetite all over again. She paused for a moment, one hand resting lightly on the bicycle's handlebar, letting the quietness of the courtyard settle over her. The sky above had already shifted into shades of dusky purple and fading gold, and in that calm moment, she felt the weight of the day melt away, leaving only a pleasant sense of anticipation anticipation of home, warmth, and the comfort of Aunt Li's cooking.
"I'm back home, Aunt Li!" Jia Lan called as she pushed the gate shut behind her. Her voice carried cheerfully into the house.
Almost at once, Aunt Li's familiar figure appeared from the kitchen, wiping her damp hands on her apron. Her face lit up when she saw Jia Lan.
"Miss, welcome back. How was your day?" she asked warmly, eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity.
Jia Lan set down her bag and slipped off her shoes, her lips curving into a soft smile. "It was nice… very nice, actually."
Aunt Li's gaze softened knowingly. "Ah, and how was the restaurant where Young Master Shen took you?"
Jia Lan gave a small laugh, her cheeks coloring faintly. "The food was good. Better than I expected. He certainly knows how to choose a place."
Aunt Li chuckled, half-teasing. "So he really did take care of you properly. That's good." Then she waved a hand, shooing her lightly toward her room. "Go and freshen up, Miss. I'm making something special for dinner tonight. A chicken dish you'll see."
Jia Lan's eyes brightened at that. "Chicken? You're spoiling me again, Aunt Li. Now I'm even more eager to try it."
With a hum still lingering in her throat, Jia Lan stepped lightly into her bedroom, the faint creak of the wooden floor beneath her feet a familiar comfort. The room was dim, washed in the silvery glow of moonlight filtering through the window, soft and serene. She moved toward the wardrobe, fingers brushing against the carved wooden handles before pulling it open. Inside, her neatly folded clothes gave off the faint, clean scent of soap and sun-dried fabric.
She took her time, letting her gaze wander over the options before settling on a soft set of pajamas. The cotton was light and smooth, cool to the touch, with delicate embroidery at the cuffs—small blossoms stitched in pale thread, simple yet elegant. Comfortable, yes, but still carrying that hint of refinement she never quite let go of. Smiling faintly, she laid the pajamas across the bed, smoothing them out as though tucking them in for their turn to rest.
Barefoot, she padded toward her little bathroom, her steps quiet in the stillness of the house. The faint sound of Aunt Li clattering in the kitchen reached her through the walls, mingling with the occasional chirp of crickets outside. Turning the tap, she let the water run until it grew warm, steam rising gently to curl and mist in the air. The first spray of heat against her skin loosened the weariness from her shoulders, washing away the dust of the day.
She closed her eyes, tilting her head back as the water slid through her hair, a sigh escaping her lips. The scent of her mild soap filled the air—fresh, clean, faintly floral. In the little cocoon of steam and warmth, the busyness of the week seemed far away. For a few moments, there was nothing but the steady rhythm of water, the soft warmth on her skin, and the quiet happiness humming inside her.
When she finally stepped out, cheeks faintly flushed from the heat, she wrapped herself in a towel and moved back into her room. The pajamas waiting on the bed seemed to greet her, promising comfort. She slipped into them slowly, enjoying the feel of the fabric against her skin. Neat, soft, and perfectly cozy.
The water rinsed away the day's dust, each droplet carrying with it the faint weight of fatigue, leaving her body light and her spirit loosened. By the time she turned off the tap, steam still clung to her skin, curling into the air like a gentle veil. She reached for a soft towel, wrapping it snugly around herself, the warmth cocooning her as she padded back into her room.
Her chosen pajamas lay neatly on the bed where she had placed them earlier, waiting like an old friend. The cotton was cool now, smooth against her damp skin as she slipped into them. The embroidered cuffs brushed her wrists with the delicate touch of thread, almost as though flowers had bloomed there just for her. She tugged the collar into place and exhaled in contentment, the day's hurried pace finally settling into stillness.
Crossing the room, she seated herself at her vanity, the polished wooden surface faintly catching the glow of the lamp. The mirror reflected her calm face, framed by damp strands of dark hair that clung to her neck. She reached for the first jar, unscrewing the lid carefully as though the ritual itself deserved reverence.
Cool lotion touched her fingertips, and she smoothed it gently across her cheeks and forehead, patting lightly until her skin absorbed the moisture. The faint, soothing fragrance rose with each motion, wrapping around her like a secret garden at night. One by one, she moved through her steps essence, cream, a touch of balm. Each layer left her complexion brighter, fresher, until her reflection glowed with quiet radiance.
She leaned closer, studying herself for a moment. Her skin gleamed softly under the lamplight, and the corners of her lips curved upward. She began to hum again soft, tuneless, yet warm. The mirror caught the sound in the sparkle of her eyes.
Her fingers, still cool from the creams, brushed against her own cheeks as though sealing the day's happiness into her skin. She tipped her head slightly, watching herself in the glass not with vanity, but with a rare ease, as though she had discovered a moment of gentle harmony between the girl in the mirror and the girl she felt inside.
It had been such a good day simple, but filled with laughter, food, and the lightness she hadn't realized she had been craving. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't resist swaying a little to an imaginary tune, humming softly as she turned side to side. Her hair, still damp, clung to her cheeks, and she laughed at herself, light and girlish.
Outside, the sky had deepened into velvet black, the moon already high, its pale glow scattered among countless stars. A night breeze slipped through the window, carrying the coolness of autumn and the faint scent of cooking from the kitchen.
"Miss, dinner is ready!" Aunt Li's voice rang through the quiet, steady and affectionate.
Jia Lan smiled, tugging her sleeves into place, and made her way to the dining room.
The table was already laid out when she arrived, the spread enough to make her blink in surprise. A whole braised chicken glistened golden with sauce, its rich fragrance mingling with stir-fried greens, sautéed bean sprouts with garlic, and a clear soup dotted with fresh herbs. Beside them sat a plate of soft steamed buns and a small dish of pickled vegetables for contrast.
Jia Lan clasped her hands together, half-teasing as she stared at the feast. "Aunt Li… this is too much! How can I possibly eat all of this?"
Aunt Li smiled knowingly, pouring a bowl of soup for her. "Miss, you're growing up. You need nutrition and strength. Besides, I enjoy cooking for you. It brings me joy to see you eat well."
Jia Lan sank into her chair, eyes warm as she picked up her chopsticks. "If you put it that way, then I suppose I have no choice but to eat."
They shared an easy laugh as Jia Lan began to taste the dishes one by one. The chicken was tender and savory, melting on her tongue; the vegetables crisp and fragrant. She sighed happily. "Mmm… Aunt Li, this is incredible. You always outdo yourself."
"You flatter me, Miss," Aunt Li replied, but her smile widened. "Eat more. There's plenty."
The meal unfolded slowly, comfortably. Jia Lan chatted with Aunt Li about little things the people they had seen on the street, a funny remark one of her professors had made, how the children in the neighborhood had been chasing each other with toy bamboo sticks that morning. Aunt Li responded with her own stories, gentle humor threaded into her words.
The room glowed softly in the lamplight, shadows swaying across the walls as if even the night wished to linger. With each laugh and bite, the cozy warmth of home wrapped around Jia Lan. By the time she set her chopsticks down, she was full not just with food, but with contentment.
The day had begun with promise and ended in comfort. For Jia Lan, that was more than enough.
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