It was Saturday were everyone had to take a break from school
Yunjiang City had two types of kitchens.
One smelled like money. The other smelled like red bean paste.
"You fold it wrong," Mom said, smacking my hand with a floury spatula. "Like this. Pinch, Twist. Or the filling leaks. Like your father always—"
"I know," I said. Fast. Before she finished. "Pinch, Twist. Dad taught me when I was eight."
Tang Tang was at the steel table. Supposedly helping. Actually eating raw dough. "This is emotional labor," she said through a mouthful. "I should get paid."
"You get paid in eating raw dough buns, kids these days like money a lot" Mom said. "And math tutoring. Which you need, because your last test—"
"Was a crime against calculus," I finished. "We know." Me and Tang Tang replied before my mom can add something more.
The front bell jingled. Customer.
"I got it," I said, wiping hands on my apron. My apron said 'Future IMO Gold' because Tang Tang was a menace.
It was Mrs. Liu from the mahjong parlor. "Twenty red bean,Twenty custard. My nephew's visiting from Shanghai. He's very rich."
"Congrats to him," I said.
"Your mother's buns are cheaper than therapy," Mrs. Liu said. "And tastier."
While Mom packed, I ran the register. 2000 yuan. Rent was 5000. We had three more days.
"You're counting, I really hate Mrs.Liu she braggs everything. She's not rich but she braggs about their family being rich and I hate it." Tang Tang whispered when Mrs. Liu left.
"I'm always counting, and yes that's what Mrs. Liu is and anyway she's our daily customer."
"You're seventeen, You have to count boys or sleep. Or literally anything else."
"Boys don't pay rent. And I'm too young for romance and also are you."
---
Lu Jingchen's kitchen didn't smell like anything. Because no one cooked.
The "chef" was a man named Chef Wang who came three times a week and left things in trays with labels: `PROTEIN. GREEN. CARB. FOR YOUNG MASTER.`
Jingchen was eating CARB straight from the tray. Cold. With his hands.
"You're an animal," Lu Yanze said, walking in. Lu Jingchen's stepbrother. Technically, Legally. He was 19, one year older than Lu Jingchen. Home from Harvard for "investor meetings," and wearing a shirt that cost more than my rent.
"You're in my kitchen," Jingchen said.
"It's Dad's kitchen. And Dad's in Singapore. With his wife, My mom." Yanze opened the fridge. "Why do we have twelve cartons of milk? Are you growing?"
"Chef Wang says calcium."
"Chef Wang says a lot of things. Most of them wrong." He took a milk. Drank from the carton. "Dad wants you at the West District walk-through today. 2 PM. New mall. You shake hands and you smile. You pretend to care."
"No."
''No' is not a sentence Dad understands. He understands 'Yes' and 'Gu Yichen' handles it but remember he's not our family member, And you are the only person dad can entrust when it comes to his businesses. And I'm not handling your PR anymore. Last time you told a reporter my GPA was a charity case."
"It was." Jingchen spatted
Yanze threw a grape. Jingchen caught it and ate it.
"Fine," Yanze said. "But if you don't go this time, he'll cut your card again. And then how will you buy gas for that motorcycle of yours—"
"Which is compensating."
"Don't go it's fine, you will see how it goes with dad.."
Jingchen stood.
Yanze grinned. "Touchy. Got it. See you at 2. Or don't. I'll tell Dad you're 'studying'. With that girl. The one who called—."
"Shen Xingruo."
"Oh, so you do know her name."
"Shut up."
---
Tang Tang was on her phone. "Okay, gossip. Listen. Lu Jingchen's stepbrother is back. Lu Yanze, you know him. He was from Harvard. The hot one we study with at school. He posted a story. From some big penthouse. Caption: 'Back to feed the family disappointment.'"
"Family disappointment is probably the Ducati," I said.
"Family disappointment is 100% Lu Jingchen," Tang Tang said. "Oh. He tagged a location. 'Lu Holdings Tower'. With a poll. 'Should I throw my brother off the balcony? Yes/No'."
"Charming."
"67% said yes. Rude."
Mom came out from the back. "Xingruo. We're out of sugar. Can you run to the big supermarket? The one in the new mall?"
My stomach dropped.
"The Lu Holdings mall?"
"It's the only one with bulk sugar on Saturday. Take 300 yuan. And don't talk to rich people."
"Rich people don't talk to me either. We're good."
---
The mall was new. Cold and Glass everywhere. A giant screen showed Lu Zhiyuan cutting a ribbon on loop.
I hated it, but why do I even?
I got the sugar. 25kg. Dragged it to the bench outside the supermarket. Waited for Mom's neighbor, Uncle Li, who said he'd pick me up at 2:30 with his van.
At 2:17, a voice: "You."
I looked up.
Lu Jingchen. No motorcycle. Black shirt and Black jeans. Holding a clipboard like it personally offended him.
"You," I said.
"What are you doing here?"
"Buying sugar. What are you doing here?"
"Being a disappointment." He looked at the 25kg bag. Then at me. "That's… a lot of sugar."
"For the buns. That feed people. Unlike malls."
He almost smiled. Caught himself. "My dad owns this place. You're welcome."
"I didn't thank him."
"You should thank me because our family also works on House renting for a cheaper price and everything is good including the services. Rent's cheap here For now."
We stared.
"Why don't you just make an ad instead of telling this to a poor girl like me. Are you here to brag or what?"
"Why are you alone?" he said. Finally. "On a Saturday. With industrial sugar."
"Why are you alone? On a Saturday. With a clipboard."
---
Uncle Li was late. My arms hurt and the sun was hot.
Jingchen looked at the sugar. Then at the service elevator.
"Fine," he said. "Come on."
"What?"
"Service elevator. It goes to the parking garage. You can wait in the AC. Not on the street. Like a… like a person."
"I am a person."
"Debatable."
---
It was just us and 25kg of sugar.
"This is kidnapping," I said.
"This is me avoiding my stepbrother," he said. "He's on Level 3 doing a 'meet and greet'. With influencers. Who want to be me."
"Gross." I said
"Yeah."
The elevator dinged. Garage level.
Empty, Concrete and Cool.
We sat on the sugar bag. Because there were no benches.
"Your mom's bakery," he said. After a minute. "It's in the news."
"I know."
"My dad's assistant buys buns there. Every morning. Says they're 'authentic'."
"Your dad's assistant has taste."
"Your mom… she was alone today?"
"Yes. My Dad died of cancer. You knew that didn't you? It was in the paper."
He went quiet. "Sorry. I didn't know."
"Your dad's alive. And has two sons. One he likes."
He didn't answer. Just looked at his hands. They had a paper cut. From the clipboard.
"You're bleeding," I said.
"Occupational hazard. Of being a disappointment."
I had a bun in my bag. From this morning for lunch.
I didn't think. Just broke it in Half and held it out.
He stared at it. "What's this?"
"Red bean, not poisoned. Probably."
"I can't—"
"Take it Or don't. But stop bleeding on your dad's concrete. It's bad for property value."
He took it and ate it. In two bites.
Said nothing.
---
Uncle Li's van pulled in.
"Your ride?" Jingchen said.
"Yeah."
I stood. Dragged the sugar.
He stood too. Opened the van door for me. Didn't say anything.
"Thanks," I said.
"Whatever," he said.
I got in. Uncle Li drove off.
In the mirror, I saw him. Still standing there. Holding the clipboard and with red bean on his thumb.
---
"Who helped you with the sugar?" Mom said. "Uncle Li said a boy was there. Tall handsome but scary face."
"No one," I said. "He was just… leaving."
"Hmm." Mom didn't buy it. Moms never do. "Was he hungry?"
"He ate a bun."
"Good." She put another 500 yuan in the register. "We'll make rent."
Tang Tang was still there. Doing "homework." Actually stalking Gu Yichen's Weibo.
"Update," she said. "Gu Yichen posted again. 'Disappointment skipped the walk-through. Shame. I had a speech. About failure.'"
"Charming family," I said.
"You got something on your shirt," Tang Tang said.
I looked. Red bean from the bun. From the garage.
I didn't wash it off.
---
Yanze was in the living room. Laptop open. "You skipped. Dad knows. Card's cut again."
"Okay," Jingchen said.
"Okay? That's it? No fight? No 'I hate you'? Who are you and what did you do with my brother?"
Jingchen was at the window looking down at the city at the block where the bakery was. You couldn't see it from here because it was too small.
"Nothing," he said. "I did nothing."
He opened his hand. There was sugar on his palm from the bag.
He didn't wipe it off.
But now he knew what red bean tasted like when it wasn't from Chef Wang.
And I knew his stepbrother thought he was a disappointment.