Click-clack.
A strange, crisp clicking sound came from the refrigerator in the corner.
Ye Jiujiu, who was lazily drinking water, turned her head toward the noise. In the corner stood the same slightly worn double-door refrigerator, its doors tightly shut, nothing unusual about it.
She must have misheard. After all, she hadn't slept well last night. Suppressing a yawn, she continued drinking.
But before the water even went down, the clicking sound came again—louder this time. Jiujiu froze, eyes widening. The next moment, she heard a faint rustling inside the fridge, like something small was crawling around.
A mouse?
Bold of it!
She instantly sobered up. With a burst of irritation, she stomped over and yanked the fridge door open.
A blast of salty, briny air hit her full in the face—so strong she felt like she'd been transported to the seaside. Inside, several palm-sized crabs sat neatly in the vegetable compartment, waving their large claws with seaweed draped over their shells, looking unbelievably fresh.
Crabs?
She slammed the refrigerator shut with a loud bang.
No way. Absolutely not. She must be hallucinating. How could there be crabs in her fridge?
She'd been so busy these past few days, the fridge was nearly empty. She must be overtired and mistaking bok choy for crabs. Yes, that had to be it. A good night's sleep would fix everything.
She turned to leave—but suddenly the fridge erupted with a series of loud clicking and banging noises, as if the creatures inside were trying to demolish it from within.
…She really couldn't fool herself anymore.
Taking a deep breath, Ye Jiujiu marched back and opened the fridge again. Sure enough, several blue crabs were inside, their large pincers thrashing wildly. From their color and sheen, they were clearly sea crabs—alive, fresh, and very energetic. There were six of them in total, each as big as her palm. Their beady, black eyes darted around, as if searching for an escape route.
Hesitantly, Jiujiu extended a finger and poked one of them. Its shell was hard, cold, and wet… like it had just been pulled straight from the ocean.
This wasn't a hallucination.
It was real.
But how?
She was sure that yesterday, the only thing left in the fridge was a small bunch of wilted greens. So where did these crabs come from? Did someone sneak them in? But the restaurant had security cameras at both the front and back doors. Anyone breaking in would have triggered the alarm. And who would deliver seafood in the middle of last night's heavy downpour?
And even if someone did—why deliver it to her?
Nothing made sense.
Could the refrigerator… have developed a mind of its own?
Before she could think further, a sudden sharp pain shot through her fingertip. She looked down and saw that one of the crabs had latched onto her with its claw.
"Ah! Let go!" she yelped.
But the crab tightened its grip, refusing to release her. Tears sprang to her eyes from the sting.
"You little—just wait." Enduring the pain, Ye Jiujiu marched to the cutting board, grabbed the kitchen knife, and without hesitation chopped off the offending claw.
The crab: "…You have no sportsmanship at all."
Finally freed, Jiujiu set down the knife, broke the claw apart, and examined her finger. Thankfully, although it hurt, it wasn't bleeding. She quickly ran it under cold water at the sink.
Just then, a loud knocking sounded from the back door outside the kitchen, followed by an elderly woman's voice:
"Jiujiu?"
"Yes."
Ye Jiujiu didn't have time to worry about the crabs. She turned off the tap, dried her hands, and stepped out of the kitchen.
Outside was a small courtyard paved with gray bricks and tiles. Though old, it was spotless. In the center stood an old pear tree, its lush branches shading most of the yard.
She walked along the eaves toward the back door. Beyond it was a narrow alley used mostly by the residents living behind the courtyard. When she opened the door, she found Grandma Liu standing there—her late grandmother's closest friend.
"Grandma Liu, did you call me?"
Grandma Liu peered at her with concern. "I heard you shouting just now. What happened?"
"Nothing." Jiujiu awkwardly shook her still-stinging fingers. "I just got my hand caught by something."
"Oh? Then be careful," Grandma Liu said gently.
"Okay." Jiujiu's gaze fell on the basket full of vegetables Grandma Liu was carrying. "Grandma Liu, did you already go to the market this early?"
Grandma Liu chuckled and handed the basket over. "No, no. It rained heavily last night, and a bunch of the cucumbers, loofahs, and peppers I planted in my yard fell off. Since you don't grow much in yours, I picked out the good ones and brought them for you. Don't mind the rough handling."
"I don't mind at all," Jiujiu said quickly. Then hesitated. "But this is too much. You should keep some for yourself."
"I still have plenty at home."
Grandma Liu waved her hand and walked straight into the courtyard kitchen with the basket. "Jiujiu, why are you up so early today?"
"I plan to contact the supplier later," Jiujiu replied softly.
"The supplier?" Grandma Liu paused mid-step, surprised. "You're planning to continue running the restaurant?"
Jiujiu nodded.
Her family's old courtyard—blue bricks, black tiles—was tucked in a remote corner of Pear Blossom Lane. The location wasn't ideal, but the space was large, and the two-story shop at the front had been her grandmother's pride.
For years, her widowed grandmother had run that little restaurant to raise her. But business had always been mediocre, and the shop was on the verge of closing. After her grandmother suddenly fell ill and passed away half a month ago, Jiujiu inherited both the courtyard and the restaurant. Loving cooking as she did, she decided to take it over.
Grandma Liu glanced toward the shop, then looked back at the beautiful girl before her. Jiujiu was known throughout the lane as a beauty—fair skin, delicate features, and a naturally aloof aura. But when she smiled, her dimples and slightly curled neck-length hair gave her a playful charm.
"Jiujiu…" Grandma Liu hesitated. "Are you sure you want to run the restaurant?"
"You know how things are here in Pear Blossom Lane," she continued. "Ever since the new street and shopping malls opened in the new district, no one comes to the old street anymore except us locals. I think you should consider renting out the courtyard. The rent may not be high, but it would be steady income."
Jiujiu understood what she meant.
"I still want to try," she said quietly.
Grandma Liu didn't expect such firmness from her. "Is it because you miss your grandmother? Is that why you don't want to rent it out?"
"No," Jiujiu said seriously. "It's because I truly want to run the restaurant."
She had loved cooking since she was a child. Her culinary skills were even better than her grandmother's. She had always dreamed of returning home to help run the family shop—but her grandmother had always refused, afraid of letting her work too hard.