The freshly wrapped dumplings had thin skins and generous fillings. Dipped lightly in vinegar and chili oil, they made for a lively, satisfying meal.
Afterwards, Shi Qin washed the dishes in the kitchen. He froze the uncooked dumplings and started sorting out the leftover ingredients.
Chu Duxiu had just returned home and was still in her “newcomer protection period.” She and Chu Lan were enjoying some tender mother-daughter time, chatting excitedly about gossip.
This was when her mother was in the best of moods—she hadn’t yet grown tired of her daughter’s return. With months’ worth of conversation saved up, she finally had someone to talk to other than her husband. Her excitement was through the roof.
They sat around the coffee table, nibbling on nuts and basking in the sunlight, casually chattering about trivial and silly things.
Chu Lan was holding a pistachio, wiggling her eyebrows at Chu Duxiu as she asked, “Do you remember Qian Qiao? That auntie who used to wander around our house all the time when you were little.”
“Yeah, I remember. Why?” Chu Duxiu mumbled while chewing on a nut. “Wasn’t she your arch-nemesis?”
Chu Lan paused. “Arch-nemesis?”
Chu Duxiu explained, “You know, mortal enemy—it’s internet slang. Like, always at each other’s throats.”
“Oh wow, you really do remember. I thought you’d forgotten,” Chu Lan said. “She had a son, remember? Tsk tsk tsk, she used to show off about him in the courtyard every single day. Every time she saw other kids, she’d go on and on praising him. Fine, praise your kid if you must—but she’d always add, ‘But of course, my son is still the smartest.’ You remember that?”
Chu Duxiu nodded. “Vaguely.”
Chu Lan frowned. “Once, she even threw shade at your sister, saying no matter how well girls do in school, it won’t be useful in the future.”
Then she raised her hand to indicate a child’s height and continued animatedly, “Your sister didn’t even have a chance to respond, and you—tiny as you were—suddenly ran out and cut in: ‘Auntie Qian, if my sister’s good grades won’t be useful in the future, then Zhuang Zhuang is just like me, already not useful now.’ The whole place exploded with laughter!”
Chu Duxiu froze mid-shelling, alarmed. “…That really happened?”
She remembered Auntie Qian, but had long forgotten that particular incident. She hadn’t expected herself to be so hardcore as a kid.
Chu Lan burst out laughing as she recalled the childhood memory. “Of course it happened! Back then, you were timid as a mouse—barely said a word to strangers. That was the first time we ever saw you so fierce. Qian Qiao’s face turned completely black after that!”
The family used to live in an old courtyard, where all the neighbors knew each other.
Chu Lan had always had bad blood with Qian Qiao. The feud went so far back that no one could clearly trace where it started. Rumor had it Qian Qiao started it by gossiping, saying, “Chu Lan gave birth to twins, and still not a single boy—what a pity, can’t even form the character for ‘good’ (好, made of ‘girl’ and ‘boy’).” Add to that countless petty squabbles, and things quickly spiraled out of control.
Later, Chu Duxiu and her family moved to a new place and gradually lost contact with their old courtyard neighbors. It had been a long time since they’d heard Auntie Qian’s name.
“Guess what her precious Zhuang Zhuang is up to now?” Chu Lan scoffed. “He repeated years of school, burned through a ton of money, and still couldn’t get into uni. They tried to get him to learn a trade, but he couldn’t take the hard work and quit. Now he refuses to get a job, just wanders around the old courtyard all day, mooching off his parents. And at home? He’s got a terrible temper.”
She snorted with disdain. “Hmph. And to think she had the nerve to talk down to me back then. Both my daughters got into good universities—unlike her son, who’s all over the place and starts swearing the moment someone criticizes him.”
Chu Duxiu teased, “Thanks for the vote of confidence in my uni, Mom. Didn’t know it’s now in the same league as my sister’s.”
Chu Lan raised her chin proudly. “Well, it’s still a respectable one, no doubt about it.”
Seeing her mom looking so smug, Chu Duxiu couldn’t help but smile too.
It might not be the most admirable attitude, but she completely understood Chu Lan’s sense of satisfaction. Unlike her older sister, she wouldn’t ruin the mood with calm, rational words like: “Why worry about other people’s drama? Just live your own life well.”
Maybe she and her mum were cut from the same cloth—equally nosy and a little petty, clinging to that simple belief that “bad people get what they deserve.” The textbook petty-bourgeois mindset. They wouldn’t kick someone when they’re down, but when someone they disliked hit a rough patch, they’d definitely chuckle about it behind closed doors. Just a little bit bad.
That’s exactly why Chu Lan only shared this kind of gossip with Chu Duxiu. She’d never bring it up with Chu Shuangyou—what would be the point? She’d just get scolded.
In the sunlight, the bright red sweater was adorned with a few little green flowers. The petals were stitched in simple lines—crooked and clumsy, full of childish charm.
Chu Duxiu paused, thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her. She stared at Chu Lan’s back and asked doubtfully, “Mom… your sweater…”
“What about it?” Chu Lan reached back and touched the patch of green. Realization dawned on her. “Oh, this—remember there was a hole in it? You’d just learned some kind of stitching technique and insisted on embroidering a flower to fix it. Something must’ve gone wrong, because it turned out all wonky.”
As a child, Chu Duxiu had a wide range of interests. She was always dabbling in something new—growing succulents one day, picking up embroidery the next. Many of those hobbies had long been forgotten and left behind.
“But that was so long ago. Why are you still wearing it?”
Chu Duxiu was taken aback. She distinctly remembered learning that stitch in a school craft class during middle school. She’d brought the red sweater home to practice on—never expecting that not only had it not been thrown away or packed away in storage, but that her mom still wore it regularly.
Chu Lan was holding a nut in her hand, eyes fixed seriously on the TV as she replied offhandedly, “What? Doesn’t it look fine? Not bad at all!”
Chu Duxiu stared at the little green flower, momentarily at a loss for words.
She had always felt that—even if Chu Lan weren’t her mother—she would still be someone worth admiring.
When Shi Qin was young, he was known for his good looks, gentle nature, and steady job. He was the kind of man everyone talked about—the ideal catch.
After marrying him, Chu Lan often faced backhanded comments about how she wasn’t good enough, because she lacked both a prestigious education and family background. But she had a fierce, unyielding nature. Refusing to swallow that humiliation, she went out and fought for business alongside the men, pushing her way into the game with sheer grit. She didn’t just make money—she bought a home, helped the family move out of the old courtyard, and proved all the naysayers dead wrong.
“So what if I wasn’t ‘good enough’? Hah! I like what you all think I don’t deserve. If you’re jealous, go make some real money yourselves! Don’t just sit around hoping your man will get rich for you!”
Rough, brash, fierce—everything but conventional. Yet full of life.
Even when Chu Duxiu sometimes felt her mother was a bit too forceful, she couldn’t deny that it was exactly that kind of personality that allowed her to pull off the seemingly impossible—whether it was battling for business or choosing her daughters’ names.
“They take my surname,” Chu Lan once declared. “When they’re together, they’re top of the class. When they go their separate ways, each one shines in her own right.”
And that’s how the two sisters got their names.
Chu Duxiu gently touched the red sweater. “Mom, I’ll redo the embroidery for you another day.”
Chu Lan turned her head at that and shot her a sideways glance. “Don’t waste your time on that—focus on your exams instead.”
“…”
Truly, a sentiment crusher—blunt as ever.
Feeling slightly stifled, Chu Duxiu shot back, “Have you been taking your meds lately? How’s your blood sugar?”
“What meds?” Chu Lan waved her hand evasively, clearly guilty. “Don’t be a killjoy like your sister!”
Chu Shuangyou had come home on New Year’s Eve.
Inside the room, Chu Duxiu heard movement at the door. She dashed out like an arrow—and sure enough, there was her sister’s suitcase, along with half a silhouette blocked by Shi Qin.
Shi Qin chuckled. “Can’t wait to see your sister, huh?”
From the sofa, Chu Lan muttered, “Ever since she got home, she’s been asking ‘Where’s my sister? Where’s my sister?’ a hundred times a day.”
Chu Shuangyou had also changed into a down jacket, still wearing her light coffee-colored scarf—looking much the same as she had in Yancheng. She tossed her plane ticket aside, greeted the family, and finally got a chance to rest after the long journey.
Their parents headed into the kitchen to start prepping dinner, leaving just the two sisters in the living room to sort out the luggage.
Chu Duxiu said softly, “Sis…”
Chu Shuangyou replied calmly, “I didn’t forget.”
Those words were like an anchor—reassurance that their alliance was still intact, and that her sister would keep her promise.
Every seat around the table was filled, and the spread of dishes had long been set out—an array of delicious food accompanied by drinks like cola and fruit juice. The warm overhead lights made the clean cutlery gleam, further highlighting the vibrant colors and mouth-watering aromas of the feast.
The whole family was reunited for the Spring Festival. As the rousing opening music of the New Year’s Gala played in the background, they raised their glasses to a cheerful “Happy Spring Festival!” and dug into their New Year’s Eve dinner with gusto.
Chu Duxiu had already been home for a few days, but Chu Shuangyou had just returned today, making her the center of attention at the dinner table.
Shi Qin asked, “Youyou, how long will you be staying home?”
“I’ve booked my return for the sixth day of the New Year,” said Chu Shuangyou. “I’m treating it like a normal work schedule now.”
Shi Qin was surprised. “That doesn’t leave you much time at home.”
Chu Lan added, “The new flat’s almost ready—I was planning to take you to see it after the holidays. Now it’s all off track again.”
Chu Shuangyou had put a down payment on a new apartment in Wencheng, but hadn’t had time to follow up, so Chu Lan had been handling all the errands on her behalf.
“Mom, you and Dad can go check it out,” said Chu Shuangyou, holding her chopsticks. “It’s all fully furnished anyway—shouldn’t be much difference, right?”
“How could there be no difference?” Chu Lan shot back. “It’s your place—you need to inspect it properly. You can’t just take the keys and call it done.”
Suddenly, Chu Lan remembered something and turned her gaze toward Chu Duxiu. “Hey, since you’re home studying, you could come with me for a walk. Your sister probably won’t have time to stay here, so in the end, it’ll turn into your own little kingdom—you know, like a usurper taking over and causing a big ruckus.”
Chu Duxiu was momentarily stunned. Her eyes flickered as she rubbed her nose. “But I’ve also booked my ticket.”
“Why? Are you two going somewhere again?” Chu Lan was immediately taken aback, glancing back and forth between the sisters before looking at Chu Shuangyou. “She’s preparing for exams now; she shouldn’t be going out all the time.”
Lowering her head, Chu Duxiu confessed, “I’m going to Haicheng to record a stand-up comedy show. The competition continues after the New Year. I’ve passed the preliminaries, and there are several more rounds ahead. This year, I’m coming back to Wencheng from Haicheng, not flying straight back from Yancheng.”
That statement packed a lot of information—it completely blew their parents’ minds.
The chopsticks paused mid-air as everyone stopped picking food—only Chu Shuangyou kept her usual calm, showing no surprise.
Chu Lan’s lips moved slightly, and her eyes went wide, but she remained silent for a long moment.
Shi Qin was the first to recover, curious. “Is the show called Shanle?”
Chu Duxiu replied, “No, Shanle is the production company’s name. The show’s called The Stand-Up King. You can look it up online.”
Chu Lan gave Shi Qin’s leg a sharp pinch, both surprised and angry. “How did you find out?”
Shi Qin quickly explained, “There were labels on the New Year goods she brought back. I thought it was strange—different food suppliers, but they all had the same name: Shanle.”
Chu Lan took a deep breath, furrowing her brow as she forced down her anger. “I don’t want to scold you. Listen to your sister—let her tell you how tight her study schedule really is.”
Chu Shuangyou spoke calmly, “I know about this, and I’ve checked out the show. She can record it over the winter break, come back to prepare for the Wencheng job, then continue exams once school starts. Nothing will get in the way. You shouldn’t put all your eggs in one basket—right now, she’s trying a bit of everything so her future can have more options.”
Chu Lan didn’t expect Chu Shuangyou to back her up, and for a moment, she was stunned by the words.
Chu Shuangyou calmly added, “I recently went to Yancheng and checked out some comedy shows in person. I even met with the producer of the program. This isn’t some scam. She’s genuinely interested in it, so trying it out won’t hurt. This kind of experience can enrich her résumé and open up more opportunities when she looks for jobs later.”
“Interested? She’s interested in a lot of things—how many has she actually stuck with?” Chu Lan slammed her chopsticks down on the bowl with emphasis. “That was back then; now, in her senior year, time is precious. Many positions have to be applied for now. When would be a better time to mess around than now?”
“No way—let me be clear, this can’t happen. Even if you two planned it in advance, it won’t work!”
Chu Lan usually had a loud, booming voice, but when she got worked up, it cut through everything like a sharp blade. Back in the day, it had intimidated many seasoned businessmen. She didn’t have the polished logic of an elite negotiator; instead, she had the raw, unrestrained force of someone who’d fought tooth and nail in the real world.
Chu Duxiu and Chu Shuangyou fell silent at the same time. They had long expected this moment and knew their mother would be impossible to persuade.
“All right, it’s the New Year—let’s just eat,” Shi Qin tried to ease the tension. “No more talk about this today. Let’s enjoy the Spring Festival happily.”
“Fine, I won’t argue,” Chu Lan picked up her chopsticks, her tone calming. “But don’t bring this up again.”
After dinner, Chu Shuangyou and Chu Lan went inside to talk, while Chu Duxiu paced anxiously by the door like a nervous ant on a hot pan.
She pressed her ear against the door, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation, but didn’t catch anything about the stand-up comedy. All she heard was her sister’s voice faintly.
“Mom, how much money do we have at home right now?”
After a moment, Chu Lan opened the door and stepped out, startling Chu Duxiu, who hadn’t noticed the figure curled up like a mushroom in the corner.
“What are you squatting there for?” Chu Lan mocked. “Do you think I’d be scared off by your sister? Just hiding behind her won’t save you.”
Chu Duxiu’s eyes looked wistful—her thoughts were easy to read, clearly still hung up on the show.
“She did talk to me about your comedy program, but don’t think I’m clueless about what’s on your mind. Now that you’re in the competition, do you really think you can focus on your exams?”
Chu Lan argued firmly, “Your mind’s already all over the place. Even if you manage to juggle both, and actually land the job, what’s the point of doing stand-up comedy then? Would your boss even let you do that?”
“So, don’t waste your time. Let this idea go and just prepare properly for your exams.”
Chu Duxiu pressed her lips together and, with bold defiance, said, “So don’t waste time—should I just quit the exams now and focus all my energy on stand-up comedy instead?”
She actually thought that made sense. If passing the civil service exam meant no part-time gigs, maybe it was better not to take it at all.
“You’re just arguing to spite me, aren’t you?” Chu Lan rubbed her temples and muttered, “Do I have to force you into a scolding? It’s New Year’s—I’ll give you face.”
Chu Duxiu suddenly froze at those words, recalling the phrase “give you face” from a performance. An indescribable feeling welled up inside her.
Summoning her courage, she spoke her truth, “When have you ever ‘given me face’? You never talk to me as an equal, never take what I say seriously—when exactly did you ever give me any face?!”
Chu Lan was stunned.
Hearing the argument, Shi Qin hurriedly rushed out, puzzled. “What’s going on? Why are you two fighting again?”
Chu Shuangyou also came out of the room, glancing between their mother and sister, trying to mediate.
“Cut the act, both of you!” Chu Lan snapped, hands on her hips, furious. “I get it now—you see me as the bad guy, the troublemaker, the one who’s always in your way! You’re all cozy and close like a happy family, and I’m the unpardonable villain. Shi Qin, you’re no saint either—every time, you make me be the bad cop!”
Her tirade was an equal-opportunity attack; no ally or enemy was spared Chu Lan’s sharp words.
Chu Shuangyou and Shi Qin were left stunned into silence.
“What do you mean I never took you seriously? Don’t forget—I agreed when you chose the humanities stream. You insisted on going to Yancheng to study journalism, and I let you go. But how did that turn out?” Chu Lan said bitterly. “Was that major anything like what you imagined before the college entrance exam? You only realized it didn’t suit you after starting university!”
Chu Duxiu was speechless.
“And all those hobbies you dabbled in as a kid—when have I ever not supported you? But do you still remember them now? Haven’t you long since forgotten those interests?”
She tugged at the little green flower on the red sweater and demanded loudly, “Have I never talked to you as an equal? You just didn’t seize your chances—you got excited for a moment, then dropped everything. How am I supposed to believe in you again?”
Chu Duxiu’s voice cracked. “This time, I won’t give up.”
“Hah,” Chu Lan sneered. “Yeah, I’ve heard that line a thousand times.”
“It’s true.”
Chu Duxiu’s words trembled like a gentle winter drizzle in Wencheng, suddenly quelling Chu Lan’s anger.
Chu Lan looked up and finally noticed her youngest daughter’s red-rimmed eyes. She really wasn’t the type to argue well—usually quick with jokes and banter, but never saying anything truly hurtful. She was the kind who’d get pushed around once she stepped into the real world.
But this wasn’t the real world. This was home.
Chu Lan, who could usually fire off words like a machine gun, suddenly found herself at a loss. Her anger just… faded away.
Silence settled all around.
After a long moment, Chu Lan was the first to break it. “Fine, I’ll give you one more chance. Go ahead and enter that competition.”
Chu Duxiu was taken aback.
“But I have one condition,” Chu Lan continued. “If you’re really as good as your sister says, then bring home first place. After that, do whatever you want—I won’t bother you anymore. You want to take the civil service exam? Fine. You want to do your comedy thing? Go for it. I’m old; I don’t understand.”
Her voice hardened. “But if you mess around like before and achieve nothing, then get back to your job in Wencheng and don’t bring this nonsense up again.”
