Li Yibai and Zhao Chun both couldn’t stop thinking about Yadan.
Zhao Chun wasn’t too bad; he simply wanted to figure out if Guan Kunling was the talented Yadan. If she was, then wow, she was astonishingly young. But Li Yibai? That was a different story. He was suffering each day, worried that Yadan might start writing novels and steal his livelihood. He wasn’t afraid of Yadan exposing his plagiarism—he knew that Yadan herself was no saint in that departnt, so she wouldn’t dare.
Thus, Li Yibai reached out to an old friend from his rural days, a buddy who ran a street stall, and arranged for him to stake out in front of Huaxia Novel magazine’s office. His instructions were to imdiately report if he spotted a pretty, elegant young woman carrying letters. Days passed without a single sighting, and Li Yibai finally breathed a temporary sigh of relief.
anwhile, Zhao Chun was anxiously waiting for Yadan’s reply. Every day, he took turns with others staking out in front of the post office.
Today, it was finally Zhao Chun’s turn.
Across the post office, in front of a small convenience shop, stood a large banyan tree. Beneath it was a tall, slender man wrapped in an off-white coat, his eyes darting suspiciously toward the post office.
He looked sneaky. Very suspicious.
"Damn." Zhao Chun flipped the lapel of his coat with a flick of his hand. His cheeks were flushed. "It’s hot as hell." Waiting for so long without seeing anything, he decided to grab a soda to quench his thirst.
Zhao Chun fished a di out of his pocket and walked up to the shop. "Give a bottle of orange soda, please."
"Sure thing," the shopkeeper said with a curious smile. "Young man, why are you dressed for winter? It’s only early autumn. Look at you, dripping with sweat."
How else could he disguise himself if not in a coat? Zhao Chun forced a smile. "It’s a bit chilly."
"Ah, you should exercise more! You’re too skinny, young man. I see a lot of kids your age jogging around the park every morning."
Zhao Chun nodded earnestly, took the soda, and imdiately twisted off the cap to take a hearty swig. As the cool liquid rushed down his throat, icy and refreshing, the sunlight bead directly on his face.
Suddenly, his head throbbed, and a fuzzy image flickered before his eyes.
The sa weather, the sa heat, the sa urge for soda... Even the sa street, the sa shop.
Zhao Chun rubbed his eyes, a flash of white streaking past his vision. Guan Kunling!
He forgot all about his soda, screwed the cap back on, and stuffed it in his coat pocket. With nervous anticipation, he peered ahead.
"Where did she go? I just saw her, and now she’s gone." He scratched his head in confusion.
A hand lightly patted him twice on his left shoulder. His body stiffened as he whipped his head to the right. "Yadan!" It was Yadan, clutching a letter in her hand.
"How’d you know I was on your right?" Guan Kunling asked casually, glancing at him.
"Oh," Zhao Chun replied matter-of-factly, "because you tapped my left shoulder, so I looked to my right."
Guan Kunling: "..." That’s exactly the point—why would you look to the right!
"Are you mailing a letter?" Zhao Chun’s eyes locked onto the envelope in her hand.
Guan Kunling tossed the letter to him. This friend of Sangsang’s looked so frail, she couldn’t be bothered to argue.
Clutching the letter tightly, Zhao Chun took a hesitant step forward, cautiously asking, "You’re just giving it to like that?"
"Yeah." Guan Kunling turned away.
"Yadan, thank you!" Zhao Chun gave her a heartfelt bow. How he longed for a good script, and yet Yadan-sama was graciously gifting this to him for free! It moved him so much that he wanted to give her an enthusiastic hug!
"Don’t call Yadan!" The longer she stayed, the more Guan Kunling’s speech began to resemble people from this era.
"So, are you Yadan?"
"You tell ." Guan Kunling walked off nonchalantly. Why had the master chosen "Yadan" as her pen na? Such... vulgarity masking sophistication, profound intelligence in humble simplicity.
"If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking." Watching her retreating figure, Zhao Chun scratched his head curiously. Who exactly was Yadan? Why couldn’t he sense even a hint of Yadan’s aura on Guan Kunling? He simply couldn’t picture such an aloof beauty singing Hero Song...
On the other hand, Tian Sangsang—she might be a possibility.
**
Tian Sangsang had moved into the house she purchased, bringing ng Shuyan and Little Milk Tea along with her. The old place was now empty, blissfully free of idle gossip and baseless speculation.
As for what might happen when Jiang Jinghuai returned... Well, let’s wait and see if he even gets the chance to co back alive!
"Kunling," Tian Sangsang said with a cheerful smile, her almond-shaped eyes narrowing slightly, "you don’t usually use skincare products, do you?"
Kunling paused mid-sharpening her knife, puzzled. "Skincare? Never. I swear I won’t marry."
... Tian Sangsang stared at her in exasperation. "What are you even thinking?"
Kunling imdiately lowered her bright eyes, stepping back sheepishly.
Tian Sangsang chuckled, pulling two small bottles from the basket in her hands. "Here—autumn’s here. The weather’s changing, and your skin needs hydrating. Your skin is already amazing, so you don’t have to be ticulous, but the basics are still necessary. I made these myself: Yan’s cleansing milk and moisturizer. I’ve tested them, and they work great. Consider it on the house!"
Kunling hesitated. She didn’t care about this stuff.
"Take them." Tian Sangsang pressed the bottles into her hands. "We’re won, after all! Ti is like a butcher’s blade, hacking its way through us each day. We need weapons to fight back. Let Yan’s products protect you! You’re in your twenties now—not a teenage girl anymore. You must start taking care of yourself. Got it?"
Kunling solemnly nodded. Even though she didn’t fully understand, she knew that whatever Sangsang said, she should follow.
Tian Sangsang’s basket was covered with a red cloth, concealing the goods she planned to sell on the streets today: rose essential oil, jasmine essential oil, cleansing milk, and moisturizer. These were the only products she had made so far.
The essential oils were packaged like before—high-end items, each bottle about 10ml and priced at 10 yuan. Expensive, yes, but you get what you pay for.
The cleansing milk and moisturizer were made in modern cylindrical containers, about ten tis the size of the essential oils. These were everyday items used up quickly, so she priced them at 5 yuan apiece. Honestly, the 1980s weren’t filled with rampant extravagance; people here were naturally beautiful, and naturally plain. Everything was simple. Tian Sangsang didn’t want to disrupt the natural rhythm, so all her products were derived from natural flowers and plants, without any chemical additives, crafted using ancient recipes.
"Yanyan, stay ho with Aunt Guan. Mommy’s heading out for a bit." She wanted to prove that without relying on Jiang Jinghuai’s money, she could still carve out her own path to success.
"Can’t I co with you?" Both of them asked in unison.
"Nope." Tian Sangsang gave a mysterious smile. "You two stay ho. I’ll have it much easier going solo."
(Goodbye, Fireflies didn’t work out. A novel about earthquakes might be more fitting—or maybe just write martial arts stories like Li Yibai to spite him. Narratives about natural disasters don’t co easily for ; I’ve mostly seen films, but none seem quite right for this era. There is one book called Aftershock, which was later adapted into a movie about the Tangshan earthquake. However, I’m still figuring things out here, so I’ll let Li Yibai off the hook... for now. There will be plenty of chances to settle scores soon. I even tracked down that movie to watch, only to be deeply disappointed. Not because I had lofty expectations, but from a viewer’s perspective, it didn’t do justice to the earthquake. Expecting a first-rate film—especially with Feng X attached as director—and ending up with a third-rate one? Ugh.)
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