Because of his frail body, the dean gave him the nickname Kang Kang, hoping he would grow up healthy and strong. Kang Kang wrapped his thin arms around Jiang Chan’s neck, his skinny little face affectionately rubbing against her cheek.
“Sister Chan, you’re a bit different today.”
Jiang Chan glanced at Kang Kang. “What’s different?”
At that moment, Dean Fan happened to walk out of the kitchen carrying a pot. Kang Kang saw the dean, then looked back at Jiang Chan, and suddenly said, “Sister Chan, today you look a lot like the dean.”
Jiang Chan thought to herself, adding my fifty-plus years of past life experience, I’m even older than the dean, okay? Thinking about it, she reached up to touch her own face. When her hand felt her still gaunt cheeks, she finally felt reassured.
She adjusted Kang Kang’s small body and wondered, how can you see my weathered soul beneath my fourteen-year-old appearance?
But she could only keep these thoughts to herself. After a simple breakfast, Jiang Chan rode the old bicycle from the courtyard to Uncle Mo’s little restaurant.
She hurried and arrived at Uncle Mo’s small eatery by 7 o’clock. The restaurant also served breakfast. Jiang Chan parked the old bike, washed her hands, and went to help Aunt Mo make dumplings.
As she folded the dumplings, the image of Lin Shi floated into her mind. Lin Shi had loved the dumplings Jiang Chan made with rice skin wrappers. Jiang Chan used to make them for her every few days.
After Lin Shi passed away, Jiang Chan rarely made dumplings again. At that time, she was the head of the Jiang family, and no one dared to ask her to cook.
These memories flashed through her mind, and Jiang Chan suddenly felt that staying in that world a little longer wouldn’t have been so bad. Beyond learning various skills, she also gained the love and care of Lin Shi and Jiang Sen.
They had given Jiang Chan the parental love she had lacked all her life. This was what Jiang Chan cherished most, so when Jiang Sen and Lin Shi passed away, she had felt a profound sadness.
Many thoughts passed through her mind, but Jiang Chan’s expression remained calm. Her hands worked quickly, and one by one, the neatly folded dumplings lined the steaming rack.
Aunt Mo glanced over and laughed heartily. “Xiao Chan, your skills are getting better. These dumplings are so beautifully made.”
Jiang Chan thought, I’ve been making them for decades; of course, they look good. But outwardly, she stayed composed. “It’s all thanks to your teaching, Auntie.”
When Aunt Mo took the rack of dumplings to steam, Jiang Chan leaned against the counter and stared at her back, still lost in the memories of her first life.
Sensing Jiang Chan’s thoughts, Qingyuan suddenly spoke. “If it’s hard for you to let go of everything you’ve experienced, I can seal away those emotions, so you can observe them as a detached bystander.”
Jiang Chan replied, “No, I don’t want to seal those memories. After all, that was a real world I lived in. I’m just having trouble adjusting because I spent decades there.”
In truth, Jiang Chan had no regrets about her experiences, only a sense of longing. Jiang Sen and Lin Shi had loved her dearly, but she had also fulfilled her duties as their daughter.
Though she was reluctant when Jiang Sen and Lin Shi left, life is like that—birth, aging, illness, and death are inevitable. All she could do was cherish every moment while they were alive.
If she were to seal her feelings for Jiang Sen and Lin Shi, it would, in essence, negate their existence, which Jiang Chan could not accept.
She hoped to remember Jiang Sen and Lin Shi forever. In the future, when she looked back, she would know that she had once been deeply loved.
Uncle Mo walked in briskly, carrying a bag of lobster. “Xiao Chan, you’re early today. Stay for dinner tonight—we’re having lobster. I just bought them fresh this morning.”
Jiang Chan glanced at the lobster struggling in the bag and suddenly said, “Uncle Mo, isn’t barbecue at the night market selling really well?”
Uncle Mo scratched his head. “Yeah, barbecue with beer is an unbeatable combo.”
Uncle Mo dumped the lobster into a basin, grabbed a big brush, and started cleaning them.
“I see.” Jiang Chan muttered to herself. She would need to check out the night market in person. Barbecue stalls didn’t require much investment. If it worked out, she could use the profits to support the kids in the orphanage.
After delivering today’s lunch orders and politely declining Uncle Mo and Aunt Mo’s invitation to stay for lobster, Jiang Chan rode her bike to the night market. She knew the key to barbecue lay in the sauces, and she had developed a few over the years. If she decided to do barbecue, it could be a great idea.
The night market was bustling. Jiang Chan walked around and saw many food stalls crowded with people, which strengthened her resolve. Looking closer, she noticed there were only two barbecue stalls—one at the street entrance and another in the middle of the food street.
With a plan forming in her mind, Jiang Chan didn’t linger and returned home.
Three days later, a new stall appeared at the night market—Ci Xin Barbecue. Ci Xin was the name of the orphanage, and Jiang Chan had chosen it to signify that this was an orphanage enterprise.
The orphanage sent everyone this time, though there weren’t many people to begin with. Among the adults, there was only Director Fan, and the remaining eight were all children. Including Jiang Chan, there were a total of ten people.
An An and the older children helped skewer the meat. Two little girls around ten years old served customers and delivered dishes, while Jiang Chan naturally became the head chef.
Dean Fan held Kang Kang in her arms and was in charge of collecting money. The children were too young to handle the money accurately, so Dean Fan, with her experience, was the most reliable.
They worked tirelessly until eleven at night when the crowds began to thin out. Stretching her stiff back, Jiang Chan started cleaning up. Night market stalls required the vendors to clean their spaces themselves, so even the older kids pitched in to help.
Once everything was spotless, Jiang Chan drove the electric tricycle, carrying everyone back to the orphanage.
Back at the orphanage, no one cared about their grease-stained clothes. They all crowded into Dean Fan’s room, their eyes fixed eagerly on the bag in her hands.
That bag contained the night’s earnings.
Seeing their eager faces, Dean Fan didn’t keep them in suspense. She opened the bag, and colorful bills spilled onto the mat.
“Wow!”
“That’s a lot of money!”
“Count it, quick!”
Dean Fan clapped her hands. “Sort them by denomination first, then we’ll count the total.”
The older kids responded without lifting their heads, “Got it!”
Even little An An was busy picking out coins from the pile.
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