37. Budding

On Monday morning, before leaving the house, Zhuang Jia actually stood in front of the mirror in the entryway and checked her phone's memo app: "Monday, send Kai Kai off."

Over the years, taking his child to school has almost been Yi Yi's "privilege." He does it occasionally, and it's always a chaotic affair. Today, he made a point of getting up twenty minutes earlier.

After dropping Kai Kai off, it was still early. Zhuang Jia didn't go straight to the company, but instead took a detour to the farmers' market. Item eighth on his list: Learn to cook three signature dishes. He decided to start today.

The morning market was bustling and vibrant. Zhuang Jia stood somewhat helplessly at the entrance, watching the vendors hawk their wares. He walked over to a vegetable stall and looked at a pile of bright red tomatoes.

"Boss, how do I choose?"

The vegetable vendor glanced at him and smiled: "Eat it raw or cooked?"

"Make...scrambled eggs with tomatoes."

"Then pick the soft ones, the ones that are fully cooked, the ones with a sandy texture, the ones that will release juice when stir-fried." The auntie deftly picked out a few for him.

Zhuang Jia thanked them, picked up the tomatoes, and went to buy eggs. As he walked out of the market, he felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity. He had lived in this city for over a decade and was familiar with the traffic jams on every main road, yet he hardly recognized the layout of the market downstairs.

The phone rang. It was Xiao Chen, the department assistant: "Brother Zhuang, Brother Wang was called in for a talk by HR... His eyes were red when he came back. Everyone's a bit panicked right now."

Zhuang Jia's heart sank. "I understand," he said. "I'll be right there."

At the same time, He Miao's family was experiencing a minor disturbance.

"Mom! Where's my blue tracksuit? I have PE class today!" Gun Gun shouted from the bedroom.

"I washed it yesterday, it should be drying on the balcony," He Miao replied from the kitchen, still holding a spatula in her hand.

Last night before bed, she had a "serious" talk with Gun Gun: "Gun Gun, you're a primary school student now, and you can think about some things on your own. For example, what classes you have tomorrow, what you need to bring, and what clothes you should wear. Mom will remind you, but you have to remember them yourself, okay?"

Gun Gun patted his chest and assured everyone, "No problem!"

At that moment, He Miao listened to her son rummaging through the balcony, suppressing the urge to go and help. The eggs sizzled in the pan; she stared at the flickering flames, silently counting: one, two, three…

"Found it!" Gun Gun rushed in, clutching his still slightly damp tracksuit, his little face flushed from running. "Mommy, I found it! The sleeves are still a little wet though..."

"Just use a hairdryer, it'll be fine." He Miao turned down the heat. "Next time, remember to prepare your clothes for the next day the night before."

"Okay!" Gun Gun grabbed the clothes and ran to the bathroom.

After dropping Gun Gun off at the school gate, watching him run into the school with his backpack, which was noticeably neater than yesterday, He Miao took out her phone and sent a message to their small group chat: "Gun Gun found his gym clothes by himself this morning, even though I had to remind him. He didn't lift a finger to help, which is worth noting."

Ding Xiaojuan's mornings begin at the hospital.

My mother-in-law had a follow-up appointment after her hip surgery, scheduled for 8:30. Gao Sheng took his annual leave to accompany her, and Ding Xiaojuan even postponed her morning meeting. The corridor of the rehabilitation department was full of people using crutches and wheelchairs, and the air smelled of disinfectant and ointment.

The doctor looked at the newly taken X-ray and nodded: "The bones are healing well, but the muscle atrophy is quite obvious. Rehabilitation needs to be strengthened, and you have to persevere even if it hurts, otherwise you won't be able to correct your walking posture later."

The mother-in-law nodded repeatedly: "I'm not afraid of the pain, as long as I get better."

"Family members should also offer encouragement and help with passive activities." The doctor looked at Gao Sheng and Ding Xiaojuan.

"Understood," Gao Sheng replied, carefully noting down the key points of the actions the doctor mentioned.

After leaving the hospital, Gao Sheng drove, with his mother-in-law in the back seat. Ding Xiaojuan sat in the passenger seat, her phone constantly vibrating—contract revision suggestions from her assistant. She rubbed her temples.

"Xiaojuan, why don't you go straight to the company?" Gao Sheng said. "I'll take Mom home, and then take Haha to her Go lesson."

"Aren't you supposed to have a meeting with the project team this afternoon?"

“I’ve switched to online,” Gao Sheng said calmly. “These past two days, I’ll mainly be focusing on Mom and Haha.”

Ding Xiaojuan glanced at her mother-in-law in the back seat through the rearview mirror. Her mother-in-law was leaning against the window, seemingly asleep, but her eyelids were fluttering slightly. She knew that her mother-in-law was actually awake and listening.

"Okay." Ding Xiaojuan didn't insist anymore. "Then I'll try to finish early this afternoon and come back to cook dinner."

“No need, I called the hourly worker, she said she could stay until she finished making dinner.” Gao Sheng paused, “You go ahead with your work.”

As the car stopped downstairs at the law firm, Ding Xiaojuan turned back to her mother-in-law and whispered before getting out, "Mom, I'll massage your legs when I get back tonight."

The mother-in-law opened her eyes, smiled, and said, "Go on with your work, don't worry about me."

After seeing the father and son off, Yi Yi did not start cleaning immediately.

She made herself a cup of tea, sat down at her desk, and turned on her computer. The "Daily Life" document already contained several hundred words. She read it through, then clicked on the "Accountant Aunt's Breakthrough Diary."

The latest update was yesterday, titled "After My 43rd Unsuccessful Interview, I Bought Myself a Bouquet of Flowers." The post reads: "The HR said, 'You have a wealth of experience, but you might not be a good fit for our team culture.' Stepping out of the building, the sunlight was blinding. Passing a flower shop, I saw sunflowers, golden and bright, as if mocking my drab appearance. I went in and bought one. Not to comfort myself, but to remind myself: even after being rejected time and again, I can still decide for myself whether or not I want to see a little color today."

Yi Yi looked at it for a long time, then opened her browser and searched for "how to register a WeChat official account".

The steps were simpler than she had imagined. She got stuck when it came to choosing a name. After thinking for a moment, she typed: "The visible crack."

In her introduction, she wrote: "A slow record of a former media professional, current housewife, and someone whose future is unknown. In the cracks of life, I try to see the light, and also see myself."

Registration successful, the page was empty. She clicked "Create New Article," and the title bar flashed.

She remembered Xian'er's words: "The real thing has its own power."

She took a deep breath and typed in the title bar: "After I made a list for my husband, he learned how to pick tomatoes."

Then I started writing:

"This morning, before my husband left home, his phone memo read: 'Monday, drop off Kaikai.' After dropping the child off, he didn't go straight to the company, but went to the market. This was the first time in ten years of marriage that he had walked into that noisy, bustling place alone."

He bought tomatoes, ready to put item number eight on his list into practice: learn to cook three signature dishes. The first dish was scrambled eggs with tomatoes.

I didn't know any of this. He sent me a photo at noon: a plastic bag containing several tomatoes that weren't evenly red, with the caption: "The vendor said the soft ones are juicy. Is that right?"

As I looked at that message in my quiet home, I suddenly felt like crying.

It wasn't just being moved; it was a more complex emotion. It was like a wall that had been silent for many years, finally being gently knocked on, producing a distant and uncertain echo.

We've been married for ten years... I don't know when it started, but 'home' has become a finely tuned machine for me to operate, while he's the occasional guest to check on the results. I'm responsible for maintaining the meshing of all the gears, and he enjoys the smooth operation.

That list was my clumsy repair manual, trying to tell him the location and function of each gear.

He went and bought tomatoes.

This certainly doesn't solve all the problems. He still has to face workplace infighting, and I still have to face health concerns and a sense of loss about my own worth. There's still a huge silent zone between us that needs to be slowly cultivated.

But at least today, we each took a small step toward the other.

Perhaps light can indeed seep through the cracks.

Even if it's just a tiny bit that slips through the vendor's fingers when you buy tomatoes.

She paused here, checked for typos, and clicked "Save and Send to Group".

There were no readers, only herself. But the moment she pressed that button, she felt like she had dropped a letter without an address into a dark blue mailbox.

Zhuang Jia spent the entire morning dealing with the aftermath of Xiao Wang's situation.

The conversation was conducted jointly by him and HR. Xiao Wang sat opposite him, his face ashen. HR announced the decision in a professionally calm tone. Zhuang Jia barely spoke, only shaking his head with difficulty when Xiao Wang asked, with red eyes, "Brother Zhuang, do I really have no chance?"

“The industry is in a slump, and the company is under pressure,” he said. “I will help you get the maximum compensation you can receive.”

After Xiao Wang left, the HR put away the folder and said to Zhuang Jia, "Director Zhuang, the boss wants us to complete the optimization quota this month. Your department has one more."

There's one more. Zhuang Jia looked at the department staff list, his gaze sweeping over those familiar names.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

His phone vibrated; it was a link to an article on Yi Yi's WeChat official account. He hesitated for a moment, then clicked on it.

The office was quiet. He slowly read the article, until he came across the sentence, "Perhaps light can really shine through the cracks."

He watched until the end and clicked "Like".

Then he took a screenshot of the section about tomatoes in the article and sent it to Yi Yi, adding: "Practice it tonight. If it tastes bad, don't spit it out."

Yi Yi quickly replied with a simple smiley face emoji.

Zhuang Jia put down her phone and looked back at the computer screen. The pressure hadn't lessened, but the heavy, oppressive feeling in her chest seemed to have cracked slightly because of that little article.

He opened the internal messaging system and sent a message to his boss: "Boss, regarding the second optimization slot, I would like to request a week to reassess recent project contributions. Some people's value may lie beyond their regular performance evaluations."

After sending it out, he leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh.

He knew it might not work, but he wanted to try.

At 3 PM, He Miao saw a message in the class group chat that she had been tagged. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly clicked to open it. To her surprise, it was a message of praise from the homeroom teacher:

"In art class today, Gun Gun volunteered to help a classmate who forgot to bring scissors, lending him his extra pair. In craft class, he also patiently taught his deskmate how to sculpt shapes. I would like to commend him; he has made significant progress recently and is becoming more responsible and friendly."

He Miao held her phone, speechless for a moment, but her eyes welled up with tears.

He Miao sat in the living room for a long time. Then she jumped up, rushed into the kitchen, and started rummaging through the refrigerator. She remembered there was some leftover whipped cream from the last time she made a cake. She wanted to make a small cake to celebrate Gun Gun's "first time solving a problem on his own" when he came back.

The problem is just borrowing a pair of scissors, and the cake may not turn out pretty.

But it's worth celebrating.

Ding Xiaojuan was busy at the law firm until evening before she could finally take a break.

She picked up her phone and saw in the three-person group chat that Yi Yi had shared an article, and He Miao had talked about Gun Gun being praised. She clicked on Yi Yi's article, quickly read it, and left a comment below: "Tomato and egg stir-fry is the number one dish in China, symbolizing 'prosperity' and 'golden yellow.' Zhuang Jia made a good choice in starting point."

He replied to He Miao: "Gun Gun is doing a great job. Your 'letting go' is showing initial results."

Then she put away her phone and picked up her coat. As she passed the assistant's workstation, Xiao Liu was eating bread while working overtime.

"Xiao Liu, let's go home together," Ding Xiaojuan said.

"Sister Ding, I haven't finished this contract yet..."

"Do it tomorrow. Isn't it your mom's birthday today? Don't make her wait."

Xiao Liu looked up in surprise: "Sister Ding, you remember?"

"I overheard you mention it on the phone last week." Ding Xiaojuan picked up her bag. "Hurry up and go, give them my regards."

Stepping out of the office building, it was already dusk. Ding Xiaojuan drove home, encountering some traffic. She rolled down the window, letting in the chilly early winter wind, carrying the smells of the city.

The phone rang. It was Gao Sheng: "Where are you? Dinner is ready. Mom said you love steamed fish the most today, and she told me to wait for you."

"We're almost there, there's a traffic jam," Ding Xiaojuan said. "You guys eat first, don't wait."

"I'll wait for you," Gao Sheng said, then hung up the phone.

Looking at the long line of red taillights ahead, Ding Xiaojuan suddenly felt that the traffic jam was no longer so unbearable.

That evening, Zhuang Jia went into the kitchen.

He felt extremely uncomfortable as he put on Yi Yi's floral apron. Kai Kai peered curiously from the kitchen doorway, but he gently pushed him out and closed the door behind him.

Yi Yi retreated to the living room, listening to the clumsy chopping sounds and sizzling oil from the kitchen.

The kitchen door opened, and Zhuang Jia came out carrying a plate of food. Her face was a little oily, and there were a few drops of sauce splattered on her apron. The plate contained scrambled eggs with tomatoes; the eggs were a bit broken, the tomato pieces were of varying sizes, and there was a lot of sauce, but the colors were a mix of red and yellow, and it was steaming hot.

"Try it." He placed the plate on the table, a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

Yi Yi picked up her chopsticks, took a piece of egg, and put it in her mouth.

It's too salty. And a bit too oily.

But she swallowed and nodded: "Okay. Not bad for your first time doing this."

Kaikai had already climbed onto the chair, scooped a big spoonful into the rice, and took a big bite: "Delicious!"

Zhuang Jia watched his son wolf down his food, and the tense lines on his face relaxed. He tasted it himself, frowned, and said, "...It seems a bit too salty."

"Use less salt next time," Yi Yi said.

"Hmm." Zhuang Jia took another bite of rice. "Try putting less next time."

Dinner took place in a slightly awkward but fairly harmonious atmosphere.

Meanwhile, the aroma of cream and caramel filled He Miao's house. Gun Gun made a wish over the slightly crooked little cake sprinkled with colorful sugar sprinkles: "I hope... I can remember everything by myself tomorrow!" Then he blew out the candles in one breath.

He Tian took photos with his phone and smiled sheepishly, "My son is amazing."

At Ding Xiaojuan's house, only the skeleton of the steamed fish remained on the dining table. Haha was already asleep, and her mother-in-law had gone to her room to rest. Gao Sheng was washing dishes in the kitchen, and Ding Xiaojuan stood beside him, wiping the water stains off the dishes with a dry cloth. The water flowed gently, and neither of them spoke, but there was a peaceful, unspoken understanding in the air.

It's late at night.

Yi Yi's official WeChat account backend showed: 23 reads, 5 likes, and 3 comments. One of them was left by Ding Xiaojuan, and the other was from He Miao: "I'm going to try making scrambled eggs with tomatoes tomorrow (although I already know how), but I feel that making it with you guys is different."

Zhuang Jia turned off his desk lamp. In the darkness, he suddenly said, "I'd like to delay the second layoff for another week to see if there's any room for maneuver."

"Mm," Yi Yi replied.

"It might not work out."

"It's never a bad thing to give it a try."

A moment of silence.

"Yi Yi."

"Um?"

"Tomorrow... I'll send Kai Kai off."

"good."

The conversation ended. The two lay down in the darkness.

On the other side of the city, He Miao leaned on He Tian's shoulder, looking at photos of Gun Gun blowing out candles on her phone, a smile playing on her lips. Ding Xiaojuan had just finished replying to her last work email, shutting down her computer, when she heard her mother-in-law's even breathing in the next room, and Gao Sheng's hushed voices during a conference call in the study.

On this ordinary winter night, three families each guarded their own cracks, large or small, and also guarded the faint but real light that shone through those cracks.

Life is still full of challenges, but at least tonight, no one is fighting alone.

That's enough.