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Of course, it mainly because it’s quite tasty.

Tang Zhinian was exhausted, so he lay down and fell asleep. But Tang Yuxin, cradling her cup, was perpetually intrigued by the various sounds and dialects floating to her ears. The closer they got to Beijing, the more at home she felt. After all, Beijing was her second home, a place she knew well.

Having traveled on the train for more than thirty hours, the sleeper car wasn’t too uncomfortable. Still, as time passed, the enclosed space began to feel stifling. She wondered how she had endured the uncomfortable seats on her school-bound trips in her past life.

Sitting or standing, she bore the journey for over thirty hours. Meanwhile, Wei Jiani slept comfortably on the sleeping compartment above, thirty hours passing swiftly for her.

“We’re here,” Tang Zhinian, carrying their luggage, patted Tang Yuxin’s head. “Let’s go, Daddy will take you out for a meal. We’ll find somewhere to stay first, then look for a permanent home.”

“Okay.”

Tang Yuxin agreed, following her father off the train. Tang Zhinian shouldered all the luggage, which fortunately wasn’t heavy, mostly clothes for changing.

They found a small, random restaurant and started eating. Tang Yuxin occasionally gazed curiously outside. So this was what Beijing looked like in the early 90s: no skyscrapers, no subways, fewer diverse groups of people, and fewer inhabitants. The clothes people wore and the atmosphere perfectly matched the aesthetics of the times.

Outside, vendors were selling noodles and candied hawthorns, all speaking fluent Beijing dialect. She’d forgotten what Old Beijing looked like back in the nineties. What she remembered most was the city lined with dozens of skyscrapers, exhibiting various colorful lights—a bustling metropolis regularly enveloped in sandstorms stirred by the dancing figures at the public square.

She looked up at the sky, which was very blue at the time.

A blue that was refreshing,

and comforting.

“Xinxin, let’s go,” Tang Zhinian paid the bill, picked up their bags, and started walking. He wasn’t familiar with Beijing and often had to ask for directions. Sometimes, the way was guided by Tang Yuxin.

“Dad, can we stay there?”

Tang Yuxin pointed at a guesthouse—the most common type in those days, cheap and costing only five yuan per night, with hot water provided but no modern conveniences like air conditioning or heating.

Tang Zhinian asked for two rooms, one for him and one for Tang Yuxin. Ah, his daughter was growing up and becoming a big girl. He felt a pang in his heart. The child he raised from diapers was growing up; she would get married someday.

Of course, Tang Yuxin at that time didn’t know what her father was thinking. She was only sixteen, yet her father felt like she was ready to be married off.

Tang Yuxin took out a piece of paper and drew a map of Beijing’s pricy areas from memory. She remembered these areas because she’d run around for months before buying her apartment. She was grateful she bought early; if not, she might never have been able to afford the down payment.

The final market value of that apartment was in the millions, which is why Wei Jiani, who failed to buy her own house, had set her sights on Tang Yuxin’s place and then seized it.

She carefully drew on the paper, folded it, and placed it in her pocket before lying down to sleep. The guesthouse was relatively nice.

At the very least, the linens were clean. The staff had changed them before their arrival, so she slept comfortably, breathing in the fresh air of Beijing.

The wind blew outside without stirring up any sandstorms, and she had a good night’s sleep.

Early the next morning, Tang Zhinian brought Tang Yuxin to search for a house.

“Dad, let’s go this way,” Tang Yuxin guided Tang Zhinian to an old street filled with traditional quadrangle courtyards. Once inside, they could hear the rustling of the tree leaves in the wind. It felt as if the ticking of time could be heard in this place, where decades had been quietly recorded and frozen.

Everything else changed in the course of a hundred years, everything except this place.

This was Tang Yuxin’s dream—a large courtyard of her own where she could plant flowers, put up a rocking chair, and raise a little kitten. Yet, her dreams were crushed by life’s harsh realities.

Walking here, they occasionally heard the crisp chirping of birds, and the quietness seemed to whisper tales from the past, calming their hearts.

“Dad, over here.”

Tang Yuxin pointed to a courtyard house with a “For Sale” sign up front.

Tang Zhinian wasn’t sure he could afford this place. If not, he’d have to borrow money from his younger brother.

If she truly liked it, no matter what, he would buy it for her even if it meant selling all his possessions.

It was rare for Yuxin to express desire for something. Ever since she was little, she’d been precocious and had always suffered under her birth mother’s care. As a result, she’d grown quiet and introverted. Now, he saw some excitement and happiness in her eyes. She must really love it here.

He knocked on the door. After a while, a middle-aged man wearing a grey Zhongshan suit appeared. The man had a scholarly air about him. Wearing handmade cloth shoes and one hand behind his back, he exuded a proud air.

“Are you…?”

The man scanned Tang Zhinian and his daughter for a long time, trying to place them. Since he didn’t recognize them, they must be strangers.

“Sir, are you selling this house?” Tang Yuxin pointed at the note posted on the door and asked.

“Are you planning to buy it?” The middle-aged man took another look at them, “This isn’t cheap; it’s 120,000.”