Heart Flutter

Chapter 28

The evening breeze brushed softly against their faces, and gentle waves lapped at the shore as a hermit crab scurried by. The stars were faint, and the moon shone bright.

Tang Yan followed Aunt Ji to a nearby open-air restaurant. It was dinnertime, and business was bustling. The surrounding colorful lights flickered, creating a refined atmosphere, and the décor had a unique island flair.

It was an unforgettable experience to sit there enjoying dinner, facing the sea while feeling the ocean breeze and listening to the waves crashing against the shore.

Aunt Ji took charge of ordering. Tang Yan simply ate whatever was brought, grateful that Aunt Ji thoughtfully ordered her a honey-lemon drink while having a glass of red wine herself.

“Sis, here’s a flower for you.” A cute little boy appeared out of nowhere, handing Tang Yan a rose.

Surprised, Tang Yan asked, “Are you sure you’re giving it to me?”

“You look so pretty,” the boy chirped, sweet as honey.

Just then, a woman’s voice called out, apparently the boy’s mother. “I’m so sorry. He doesn’t know any better—he should be calling you ‘auntie,’ not ‘sister.’”

Hearing herself addressed as “auntie,” Tang Yan froze for a long moment. She was only eighteen, still in her youthful years—yet in truth, it made sense. She was over a decade older than this little boy, so “auntie” was technically correct.

The mother led the boy away, leaving Tang Yan momentarily at a loss. That single word—“auntie”—made her feel as though she had aged on the spot.

Across the table, Ji Yuqing laughed and tried to comfort her. “The first time someone called me ‘auntie,’ I was around your age too. Eventually, you get used to it. Time goes by so quickly—without us noticing, it slips away. Next year, the first of the 2020 generation would be born. Someone like me, born in the 1980s, might be called ‘grandma’ in just a few more years.”

“No way!” Tang Yan cried, clearly upset by the thought. Her hand clenched the tablecloth. “To me, Aunt Ji will always be young and beautiful.”

Ji Yuqing laughed again and asked, “Really? Is that how you see me?”

Tang Yan nodded earnestly to show how serious she was, then handed the rose the little boy had given her to Aunt Ji. “Here, this is for you, Aunt Ji.”

Accepting the rose, Aunt Ji held it to her nose. “It smells lovely. Thank you, Yanyan.”

Tang Yan suddenly felt shy and lowered her head, pretending to focus on her food.

“This place served delicious dishes,” Aunt Ji murmured. “More than ten years ago, when I came here, this restaurant didn’t even exist.”

Tang Yan nodded her agreement. “I think it’s really tasty—not too oily or bland. The flavor is just right.”

Little by little, diners who had finished eating left with contented smiles. The relaxed, blissful atmosphere was contagious; in turn, the people themselves seemed to enhance that ambience.

Tang Yan glanced back at the restaurant’s owners—a relatively young husband and wife—busily running things in perfect harmony, both wearing those same blissful smiles. She muttered, “Running a restaurant in a place like this must be so peaceful.”

“Yes,” said Aunt Ji. “If you got to work here every day, I bet you couldn’t help feeling happier.”

Leaning her face against her hand, Tang Yan gazed at the vast ocean. One day, if she ever left the city, she thought about opening a place like this. If only, at that time, Aunt Ji could be there with her.

They settled the bill and were about to leave when Aunt Ji suddenly called after her. “Yanyan, give me your phone.”

Without question, Tang Yan handed it over. Aunt Ji switched on the camera and beckoned for her to come closer. “Let’s take a photo together while we’re here.”

Facing the selfie camera, Ji Yuqing smiled warmly while Tang Yan still looked a bit startled. Then Aunt Ji returned the phone, and they headed out. “Let’s keep it as a memento,” she said. “Whether we can ever come here again together or not, at least it will bring back memories. Someday, our Yanyan might get married, have children, and then…”

Tang Yan interrupted, “Aunt Ji, I…” She stopped abruptly, unable to continue.

“What’s wrong?” asked Aunt Ji.

They walked side by side. Tang Yan shook her head, looking down. In the past, she had never really considered marriage or children. Thinking about it now, she realized she didn’t particularly want marriage—she wasn’t drawn to it, especially not the traditional kind.

She couldn’t imagine bringing a stranger into her life, building a family with him, taking on the role of wife, mother, or daughter-in-law. After a moment’s thought, she confirmed she really didn’t want to get married. Society could be hard on unmarried women of a certain age. In that sense, she truly admired Aunt Ji, who broke free from convention and ignored the world’s gossip to live life on her own terms.

They returned to the inn on foot, where the front desk clerk greeted them cheerfully, wishing them a sweet good night. Tang Yan was a bit slow to respond, so she only managed to blurt “Good night!” as she headed upstairs.

Back in their room, it looked just as they had left it. A refreshing breeze blew through, making the temperature feel comfortable, not too hot. At that moment, Tang Yan’s phone rang—it was a call.

Seeing this, Aunt Ji said, “You answer. I’ll go take a bath first.”

“Alright!” Tang Yan replied.

She picked up the phone and went out to the balcony to answer it. “Xiaoyun!”

“Yanyan, what are you doing?”

“I just got back from the beach with Aunt Ji. We’re at the inn now,” Tang Yan replied. After a pause, she asked, “How about you? Are you alright this afternoon? Nothing serious?”

“Mm…nothing much. The driver paid the medical fees and even gave me a few hundred more. It was really just a scratch. A bit of medicine and a bandage would have done the trick.”

“I suppose the person was trying to be kind. Seems like a decent sort.”

“But I feel guilty about the money. Under those rushed circumstances, we didn’t exchange contact information, and then they left in a hurry.”

Tang Yan pursed her lips. “Well, there’s nothing you can do about that now. Just hang onto it. Maybe you’ll run into that person again one day.”

“I doubt it. Huadu is huge, with over twenty million people. The odds of seeing them again are way too slim,” Zhao Xiaoyun said with a click of her tongue. “Anyway, what about you? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“This place is beautiful. No wonder Aunt Ji insisted on coming here a second time,” Tang Yan said.

“I’ll have to work hard to earn enough money to travel to an island one day too!” Zhao Xiaoyun yawned. “Lately, I’m always exhausted early. I’ll go to sleep now. You get some rest too, okay? Bye-bye.”

“Sure, talk later. Bye.” Tang Yan ended the call.

She leaned against the balcony railing, phone still in hand, taking in the scene before her. The full moon hung high above, reflected on the shimmering ocean, and frogs croaked among the bushes below. It reminded Tang Yan of her childhood summers spent in the countryside.

In that setting, anyone’s heart would grow calm. Time even seemed to slow down a bit.

Just then, the bathroom door opened, and Aunt Ji emerged in her pajamas, a loose-fitting style with a slight eastern flare. “Go take your shower,” she said gently.

“Alright,” Tang Yan replied.

She grabbed her phone and stepped back inside, placing it on the table. Before traveling here, Aunt Ji had mentioned how warm it could be, so Tang Yan had brought a short-sleeved pajama set—one that Aunt Ji had bought for her. She had never worn it before. It had a cartoon print, looking rather cute.

Not until she went into the bathroom and took off her clothes did she start to feel nervous and on edge. Why was her heart racing like this?

She ended up taking a very long shower. By the time she came out, it looked like Aunt Ji was already asleep.

Tang Yan tried hard not to make noise, moving as quietly as possible. First, she went to close the balcony door, then gently drew the curtains.

She turned around to find that Aunt Ji had suddenly awakened. “You’re done already? I drifted off,” Aunt Ji murmured.

Tang Yan froze and nodded stiffly.

“Come to bed soon. I’m too tired to stay awake,” said Aunt Ji. She rolled over, seeming to go back to sleep.

Was she really asleep again?

Tang Yan held her breath, still unwilling to crawl into bed just yet. Instead, she sat playing with her phone for a while, though she didn’t really know what she was doing. Eventually, she gave up, putting the phone down and switching off the lamp.

She tiptoed to the other side of the bed and lay down gently. The mattress felt incredibly soft, sinking under her weight like cotton candy.

She dared not move, fearful of disturbing Aunt Ji. Slowly, she lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She could hear Aunt Ji’s steady, rhythmic breathing right beside her. Yet she couldn’t fall asleep at all, her mind churning for no apparent reason.

She also caught a faint whiff of Aunt Ji’s freshly washed hair. Whatever shampoo she had used, it had a delicate, enthralling scent.

Just then, the sleeping figure beside her stirred slightly, as if turning over. Tang Yan lay completely still, holding her breath. Suddenly, an arm reached across her waist—Aunt Ji’s arm.

In the darkness, illuminated only by a sliver of moonlight peeking through the curtain, Tang Yan’s eyes widened, her body going rigid. Her heart pounded so hard it felt as though it might explode. She could hear it thudding against her rib cage, echoing in the silence like the toll of a clock tower or the ticking of a never-resting second hand—tick, tick, tick…

Turning over as quietly as she could, Tang Yan ended up facing away from Aunt Ji. But in doing so, she caused Aunt Ji—still asleep—to tighten her arm around Tang Yan’s waist.

In that moment, Tang Yan’s heart threatened to burst from her chest. Almost instinctively, she touched the tip of her nose, relieved it wasn’t bleeding.