A Young Woman's Heart

The fruit shop has been open for more than half a year now. Occasionally, people will call to pre-order a fruit basket or a bouquet of flowers, and then pick it up at a certain time on the same day. If it's nearby, my father will deliver it directly to the shop.

Normally, we deliver to hospitals, but on holidays like this one for couples, we also receive many orders from ordinary people, who can usually just come and pick up the goods themselves.

She pouted, picked up a broken longan and played with it in her palm: "How old are you all? Still doing this kind of thing? Isn't it cheesy?"

"That's called romance, not cheesy, okay?"

"Eek—" She deliberately hugged herself and shook, as if trying to shake off the goosebumps on her body.

Li Wanyan was helping out at the fruit shop. She and Mo Xueyao's mother were making fried food. One of them was responsible for putting the food in the pan, while the other used long chopsticks to turn it over so that it would be heated evenly. Then they took it out and put it aside to drain the oil.

It was already dark, and the oil in the pot looked even blacker, like the kind of oil that hadn't been changed in a month at a breakfast shop.

Actually, this is vegetable oil, which is its natural color, and it's the cheapest oil you can get when buying oil at a grain and oil store.

Nowadays, golden-yellow cooking oil is all the rage, and very few people use this kind of dark, murky vegetable oil that produces a lot of smoke.

"Glug glug—splatter—" The cooking oil in the pot would occasionally splatter, which her mother was already used to, but Li Wanyan would still subconsciously dodge it.

"It smells so good, when is dinner ready?" Mo Xueyao called out weakly.

"You're the only one with nothing to do, you don't even do any work, and you still want to eat?" the mother said irritably. "You're hungry, it'll be a while!"

"Ah—" Mo Xueyao could only pry open the longan and stuff it into her mouth.

Despite being the daughter of a fruit shop owner, Mo Xueyao doesn't particularly like eating fruit.

Perhaps it's because we can eat anytime that we don't find it special anymore?

Longan is actually the same as dried longan, but generally longan refers to the fresh variety, while dried longan is usually the dried variety.

The two taste different.

Dried longan is sweeter, but not nearly as sweet and delicious as fresh longan.

In summer, it's best to eat fresh fruit.

As the person with the most free time, Mo Xueyao only needed to eat fruit and knead some brittle.

But it seems that time passes even slower when you're not doing any work.

The sweltering heat made it impossible for her to concentrate on her studies while she was outside—mainly because she had gotten used to going to the library lately, and the lack of air conditioning made it harder for her to focus, which wasn't the case before.

On a summer night in the city, the wind isn't very cool. Actually, it's not completely dark yet. If you look up, you can still see a pale blue sky, as if the sky is still shining even after the sun has disappeared.

"Dinner's ready! Dinner's ready!" Twenty minutes later, the mother called out.

But Mo Xueyao wasn't hungry anymore: "Ah, you're only eating now? I'm so hungry I don't want to eat anymore."

"You're so clever with your ideas. Take it or leave it. Dinner is going to be very plentiful tonight."

"How about calling it 'abundant'?"

"You think you're so cultured!" Her mother rolled her eyes at her.

"Can't I correct you? Once you learn it, you'll be a cultured person too."

"I'm not good enough. I only went to the second grade of elementary school and then stopped. What kind of education do I have? I think I'm pretty good at writing and recognizing characters."

"Learning has no end, Mom, you always say that to me, but you yourself don't strive for improvement. Pshaw, can't you set a good example?"

"Why do you always compare yourself to those who are worse? Can't you compare yourself to those who are better? Your mother is so hardworking, can you learn from me?" Her mother tapped her head with the handle of her chopsticks.

"Why did you hit me? What if I become an idiot? Are you going to take responsibility?"

"If you become a vegetable, your father and I will both be responsible. What does it matter if you become an idiot?"

"Oh dear—what a cruel mother."

"Where did you mean it?" Her mother pinched her little face. "Your cheeks have softened quite a bit. Go get your rice yourself. Dinner's ready."

"Oh--"

"Here you go, wife, this is your Qixi Festival gift!" The father had just finished wrapping the flowers and handed a bouquet to the mother.

"What a waste of money. If you want to see it, you can do so anytime in the store. Why wrap it up?"

"This is romantic, isn't it? So romantic!" the father exclaimed, dissatisfied. "Don't you always say I'm not romantic? Here's a little romance for you! When you bring them home, just put them in a vase. They'll last for half a month to a month. Don't worry, they're all cheap flowers."

"Great, you gave me the cheap one, you're really something, Ali."

The father was speechless for a moment, and the two looked at each other, both feeling a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

It seems that even the mother realized that what she said was contradictory.

"How can there be a woman like you in this world? So you think I can't do anything right?" the father teased. "You can always find some excuse, can't you?"

"Oh my, how romantic! Sending flowers at your age?" Just then, a tall man walked in. His hair looked like a melon rind upside down on his head, which, combined with his face that looked like he was in his thirties or forties, made him look quite comical.

"Turtle, what brings you here? Are you buying a bouquet for your wife?"

"Yes, I'm here to buy a bouquet of flowers. I want eighteen roses, and one blue rose in the middle."

"We're out of blue roses today. Why didn't you tell me sooner? Otherwise, I would have saved one for you."

"Huh? Where did they go? Oh well, eighteen roses it is then."

"You're more romantic than me, aren't you? Giving roses? And you're a young man and woman, aren't you?" the father laughed.

"So you're allowed to be romantic but I'm not, huh?" The man nicknamed "Turtle" pulled out his wallet from his pocket. "How much?"

"I'll say you're eighteen. It's the cost price. Today, it's selling for five yuan a flower."

"Wow, so cheap! Here you go, twenty yuan, keep the change."

"Oh dear, then I should thank you!"

"That's right, I'm very generous, I even leave a tip."

"You little brat, you still have the nerve to say that?" the father laughed.

This is playful banter between men; the better their relationship, the more direct the jokes.

Mo Xueyao didn't know the turtle's real name, but all the adults around her called him that, so she just called him 'Uncle Turtle'.

He runs a mahjong parlor on the street near his godfather's house. He can make money just by sitting there every day, and he also rents out a lot of houses. He's considered a local bigwig in this area.

Don't assume that all local bullies are troublemakers who like to cause trouble; in reality, they are quite easy to get along with.

Of course, it's also possible that the father is good at making friends, which is why they have such a good relationship.

"What should we eat tonight?" the tortoise asked, looking down.

While the flowers were being wrapped, the others started eating. The father, who rarely had a proper dinner together, was used to it and was now busy again.

"I don't know, what's that fried? Potato chips?" Mo Xueyao picked up a piece of food coated in breadcrumbs and egg and fried it, then put it in her mouth and chewed it with a 'crunch crunch' sound.

"Petals," Li Wanyan replied simply.

"Huh? Petals? I don't see any."

"How could you have seen it while you were playing there?" Her mother glanced at her. "Turtle, want to try some?"

"Sure, I've never had fried flower petals before." The turtle acted as if it were in its own home, took a pair of chopsticks from the chopstick holder, picked one up, and put it in its mouth.

It's as crispy as potato chips.

"What kind of flower is it? It smells pretty good."

“There are lotus flowers and pumpkin flowers inside. I think the lotus flowers taste better,” the mother replied, picking up a piece for herself.

"Eating flowers on Qixi Festival, what kind of custom is this?"

"What custom? They just want to eat it. What era are we living in? It's 2000, the new century! Why are you still so particular?" The mother looked at Mo Xueyao. "Right, Yaoyao?"

“That’s right.” Mo Xueyao agreed with this view.

When everyone had eaten half of the flowers, Father finished wrapping them up, using even more layers of kraft paper than usual to make the bouquet look particularly large.

"How about it?"

"Not bad." The tortoise was quite satisfied and reached out a hand to grab the bottom, but was stopped by Mo Xueyao's father.

"Wait, you have to hold it or cradle it. You can't just pick it up directly, or the flower will easily fall apart."

"This is the first time I've ever bought flowers, how the hell am I supposed to know?"

"What did you used to give your wife?"

"It's not that complicated."

"You're being unusually attentive; there's something fishy going on," Mo Wenli teased. "Have you done something wrong and are trying to make amends?"

"Sigh, I lost a thousand yuan the day before yesterday, and she's been angry with me ever since and hasn't spoken to me. I have to find a chance to make amends."

"I fucking knew it!" Mo Wenli raised his face and glanced at the tortoise. "You wouldn't send your wife a gift if you didn't have something going on."

"No way, I still send gifts on anniversaries, okay? I just don't send flowers anymore. Alright, alright, I'm leaving."

"Okay, come visit more often when you have time." The father waved his hand, watching the tortoise swagger out the door—and he could finally enjoy his dinner. "What was in this plate before?"

"Deep-fried flower petals".

"Where are the petals?"

"Finished eating~"

……

Chapter 101 Farming on the Rooftop of the Fruit Shop (Part 1)

"Tear—" In the fruit shop, the mother tore off a page from the calendar, crumpled the discarded page into a ball, and threw it into the trash can.

"Today is the beginning of autumn. Time flies so fast," my mother said with a sigh. "More than half of the year has already passed."

It was still early, and her father was buying goods. Only Mo Xueyao and Li Wanyan were in the shop.

Mo Xueyao, who rarely gets up early today, simply dragged Li Wanyan along with her mother to the fruit shop.

The streets were a bit deserted in the early morning. Although the sun had risen, it was not yet shining its scorching rays on the earth because it was blocked by soft white clouds, so the wind was still quite cool.

"Yaoyao, help me move these things out."

"Oh—" Mo Xueyao drawled out as she and her mother busied themselves.