After learning about Xia Mi's solitary existence—working multiple part-time jobs just to scrape together tuition money while living in conditions that would make most people weep—Su Xiaoyan's maternal instincts overwhelmed her completely. Tears streamed down her face as she listened to the girl's matter-of-fact description of her daily struggles, each detail hitting like a physical blow to her generous heart.
"Absolutely not," Su Xiaoyan declared with the decisive authority of someone accustomed to solving problems through direct action. "You're not living like that for another day. You're moving in with us immediately."
Despite Xia Mi's protests—delivered with the stubborn pride of someone who'd learned self-reliance the hard way—Su Xiaoyan's determination proved immovable. After an hour of gentle but relentless persuasion, Xia Mi finally capitulated, though she managed to deflect Su Xiaoyan's more ambitious matchmaking schemes in the process.
Su Xiaoyan had initially envisioned something approaching an arranged engagement, but settled for using her extensive social network to find Xia Mi respectable employment instead. Through one of her well-connected friends, she arranged a tutoring position with a wealthy family in the Central Villa District—two hours daily, five days per week, at an astonishing two thousand yuan per hour.
The job transformed Xia Mi's economic situation overnight, elevating her from desperate poverty to comfortable middle-class security with the stroke of a pen.
On moving day, Chu Zihang and Finger accompanied Xia Mi to collect her belongings from the cramped quarters she'd called home. The old residential complex buzzed with familiar activity as elderly residents called out warm greetings to their young neighbor, their genuine affection evident in every interaction.
"Take care of yourself, little Xia Mi!" called Mrs. Chen from her third-floor balcony.
"Don't forget to visit us!" added Mr. Liu, waving from his morning tai chi routine in the courtyard.
Their obvious fondness for her spoke volumes about Xia Mi's character—in a community where strangers were viewed with suspicion, she'd somehow earned universal love and respect.
Xia Mi led them to what had once been the building's electrical distribution room, converted into minimal living space through necessity rather than choice. When she opened the door, both young men fell silent at what greeted them.
The room was brutally functional—raw concrete walls showing no attempt at decoration, exposed pipes running along the ceiling, a single bare bulb providing harsh illumination. Two tiny rooms served multiple purposes: a combination living room, bedroom, and kitchen, plus a bathroom so small that using it required careful choreography.
Yet despite the harsh conditions, Xia Mi had somehow created something approaching home. A few potted wildflowers lined the single window, their cheerful blooms defying the urban gloom outside. Hand-picked from vacant lots during her rare free moments, they represented stubborn hope in the face of adversity.
A string of delicate wind chimes hung above her narrow bed, their gentle music filling the space with ethereal melody whenever air stirred through the apartment. Beneath them sat a well-worn teddy bear—perhaps the only remnant of childhood she'd allowed herself to keep.
Most remarkably, despite the poverty and isolation, everything was immaculately organized. Her few possessions occupied designated spaces with military precision, creating an impression of dignity that transcended material circumstances.
"I'm sorry the room is so small," Xia Mi said with characteristic cheerfulness, seemingly oblivious to how her living conditions affected her visitors. "There's nowhere proper to sit, and I don't have anything to offer you."
Her lack of self-pity was somehow more heartbreaking than complaints would have been. She'd accepted hardship as normal, finding joy in small victories and daily survival.
"You're doing much better than Finger," Chu Zihang replied, attempting lightness while his throat felt tight with emotion. "At least your place is clean."
Finger opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. His dormitory at Cassel College was legendarily chaotic—clothes everywhere, papers scattered like confetti, mysterious stains on every surface. Even he couldn't defend that disaster zone.
"Well then, let's get you packed!" Xia Mi announced, clapping her hands together with determination. "I don't have much to take—most of the furniture belongs to the landlord anyway."
Her entire personal inventory fit into three small boxes: clothes, bedding, basic toiletries, the precious wildflowers, her wind chimes, and the beloved teddy bear. A lifetime of possessions reduced to what could be carried by two people.
"You boys wait by the car," Xia Mi instructed as they loaded her belongings. "I need to settle accounts with my landlord. The lease hasn't expired yet, so I should get some deposit money back."
Watching her walk toward the building manager's office with her characteristic bouncing step, Chu Zihang felt his chest tighten with emotions he couldn't quite name. How had she maintained such optimism through circumstances that would have crushed most people?
"Your mother is very pleased with her prospective daughter-in-law," Finger observed, loading the final box into Su Xiaoyan's sedan. "Finding her that tutoring job, arranging the move—she's practically adopted the girl already. At least Xia Mi won't have to live like this anymore."
"What daughter-in-law?" Chu Zihang snapped, though his defensive tone suggested the comment had hit closer to home than he cared to admit. "Stop talking nonsense!"
Before Finger could respond with his usual teasing, Xia Mi reappeared, practically skipping across the courtyard with obvious delight. Afternoon sunlight caught her dark hair, creating an almost luminous effect that made Chu Zihang's breath catch involuntarily.
"The landlord is such a good person!" she announced, waving a stack of red hundred-yuan notes. "Not only did he return my full security deposit, he calculated the rent refund down to the exact number of days I lived there!"
Her joy over what amounted to a few hundred yuan was infectious, a reminder of how much small kindnesses meant to someone who'd learned to appreciate every blessing.
"Let's not go straight back," she continued with sudden inspiration. "Come with me to the vegetable market. This refund money is exactly enough to buy ingredients for a proper meal."
"I can't afford to take you to expensive restaurants," she explained, her expression growing serious, "but I can cook. It's the only way I know to properly thank your mother for everything she's done."
"You don't need to—" Chu Zihang began, but Xia Mi cut him off with surprising firmness.
"Senior brother, this is my choice to make," she said, her voice carrying subtle steel beneath its usual sweetness. "You don't get to decide what I can or cannot do to show my gratitude."
The moment of assertiveness revealed depths beneath her cheerful exterior—this was someone who'd fought for every small victory, who refused to let others diminish her agency even in kindness.
"All right," Chu Zihang conceded, recognizing the futility of arguing with that particular tone. "To the vegetable market, then."
The market bustled with late-afternoon shoppers seeking the day's freshest ingredients. Xia Mi insisted that Chu Zihang and Finger remain in the car while she selected everything herself, her independence asserting itself even in small matters.
"She's quite the little commander," Finger observed, watching her disappear into the crowded stalls. "Acts sweet and submissive until someone tries to make decisions for her. I'd be careful if I were you, junior brother—that kind of woman will run your entire life before you realize what's happened."
"Shut up," Chu Zihang replied automatically, though he found himself studying Xia Mi's distant figure with new attention. Her determined stride and purposeful selection of vendors suggested someone far more capable than her humble circumstances might indicate.
When she returned thirty minutes later, multiple shopping bags testified to ambitious culinary plans. Chu Zihang glimpsed live lobsters scuttling in one container, their claws bound with rubber bands, and winced at the probable cost.
"Why did you buy so much?" he asked as they loaded her purchases. "This must have cost more than your refund money."
"It's fine," she replied airily, though her careful counting of remaining bills suggested otherwise. "Your mother deserves a proper feast."
Back at the villa, Su Xiaoyan had spent the afternoon transforming one of the guest rooms into suitable accommodations for her adopted quasi-daughter. Fresh flowers graced the dresser, new linens covered the bed, and carefully selected books lined a small shelf—touches that spoke of genuine care rather than mere hospitality.
"Why are you spending money unnecessarily, child?" Su Xiaoyan scolded gently when she saw the grocery bags, though her tone carried more affection than criticism.
This was a new role for Su Xiaoyan—after years of being pampered by her husband and son, she was finally experiencing the peculiar joy of maternal authority.
"I wanted to cook for you, Auntie," Xia Mi replied, wiping perspiration from her forehead. August in Beijing could be brutally humid, and the market expedition had left her slightly wilted. "It's the only way I can properly express my gratitude."
"Such a thoughtful child," Su Xiaoyan murmured, her heart melting further. In her estimation, anyone who'd survived independently while maintaining such consideration for others possessed remarkable character.
After settling Xia Mi's belongings in her new room, Chu Zihang found himself gravitating toward the kitchen, where preparation sounds indicated serious culinary activity.
"Senior brother, you can actually cook?" Xia Mi asked with surprise as she watched him wash and julienne vegetables with practiced efficiency. His knife work showed genuine skill—precise cuts, consistent sizing, proper technique throughout.
"A little," Chu Zihang replied modestly, though his movements suggested considerably more than amateur dabbling.
The truth was more complex. During his time aboard the Bamboo Staff, he'd absorbed culinary knowledge through constant observation and occasional participation. Gustave had frequently recruited him as a prep assistant, and Po's patient instruction had covered basic techniques. Combined with his naturally analytical mind, the result was competence that surprised even him.
Su Xiaoyan, observing from the doorway, was equally amazed by her son's unexpected domestic skills. When had he learned to cook with such confidence? Not that she minded—in her opinion, any man should possess basic culinary abilities.
Working together, Xia Mi and Chu Zihang produced an impressive spread that soon covered the dining room table: garlic-fragrant lobster with shells split to reveal succulent meat, crisp lettuce stir-fried with just enough wok hei to add smokiness, bitter gourd and eggs balanced in harmonious contrast, mouth-watering chicken glistening with chile oil, rich braised pork belly with layers of fat and lean meat, comforting cabbage and tofu soup, blanched abalone showcasing natural ocean sweetness, and steamed hairy crabs with their seasonal roe.
The feast represented hours of careful preparation and no small financial investment from someone who counted every yuan.
Once everyone was seated, Chu Zihang took a cautious bite of the braised pork—Xia Mi's solo effort, since she'd relegated him to prep work rather than actual cooking. The meat dissolved on his tongue, fat rendered to silky perfection while lean portions remained tender and flavorful. While it couldn't match Gustave's electromagnetic-enhanced techniques, it demonstrated genuine skill developed through necessity and practice.
Years of solitary living had indeed provided excellent culinary education—when every meal required personal preparation, competence became survival rather than hobby.
As conversation flowed around the table, punctuated by compliments on the food and gentle teasing between Finger and Chu Zihang, Su Xiaoyan watched with deep satisfaction. Her instincts about Xia Mi were proving correct—this was exactly the kind of person she wanted in their family.
The girl might not have money or prestigious connections, but she possessed qualities far more valuable: resilience, gratitude, independence tempered with grace, and the ability to create warmth wherever she went.
If only her stubborn son would recognize what was sitting right in front of him.