The sound of the suitcase wheels rolling across the floor was like a song of returning home.
It was Zhu Qing and Fangfang, bringing their younger brother back home, back into Cheng Xinglang’s life.
The figure before him was both strange and familiar, with the faint innocence of childhood still visible in his eyes.
Even though the two brothers tried to ease the tangled emotions of their reunion with lighthearted jokes, their hearts remained restless and unsettled.
The younger brother had grown up.
He had changed his surname but stubbornly held on to the name “Xingyu.”
Now, he was Lu Xingyu.
But to Cheng Xinglang, no matter what name he went by, the bond they shared by blood would never change.
This reunion had been rehearsed countless times in dreams. Yet when it finally happened in reality, it left them both at a loss, unsure of how to react.
Memories surged through his mind. Lu Xingyu’s journey had been far from easy.
At six years old, he was forced to leave home. At first, he stayed for many days in the hospital of an international medical organization. Later, he was adopted by a kind-hearted couple. Upon arriving in a foreign land, little Xingyu suffered from a persistent high fever. His adoptive father rushed him to various hospitals, while his adoptive mother stayed by his bedside night after night, gently wiping his body with warm towels. Under their devoted care, his health gradually improved.
Hearing the child recount his ordeal, the couple held him tightly and wept. Their first reaction was not disbelief or shock, but heartache. How much pain had this child endured?
At six, Xingyu didn’t understand what thousands of miles meant.
He only wanted to go home, crying and begging his adoptive parents to help him find his family. Until one day, with red-rimmed eyes, they told him that the serial killer had died in a car accident, but his mom, dad, and brother were no longer alive.
How he survived those days, Lu Xingyu no longer remembered.
He only knew that many nights, he would sneak out onto the empty, silent streets, wandering aimlessly, unable to find his way home, tears blurring his vision.
He missed his mother, father, and brother.
Those joyful memories of the four of them living together were locked deep inside his heart, and his longing never ceased.
Cheng Xinglang listened quietly. He knew his younger brother was braver than anyone else.
That night, through the crack in the wardrobe, Lu Xingyu had witnessed everything with his own eyes. But over the years, what he kept recalling was not the bloody scene, but the last desperate look his brother gave him. When his adoptive parents choked back tears telling him that his brother hadn’t survived either, a seed took root in his heart. He vowed to become a doctor—to save those helpless people like his brother.
Now, Lu Xingyu was truly wearing a white coat, healing the sick and saving lives around the world. Just yesterday, after his plane landed, he called his adoptive parents as usual to check in. It was then that he learned the astonishing news that his brother was still alive. Without hesitation, he immediately booked a ticket back to Hong Kong.
This time, his destination was clear beyond doubt: home.
The shadows of childhood were the deepest wounds in his heart. Over the years, he hadn’t even dared to look at any related news reports.
On the flight back, Lu Xingyu found it impossible to put his feelings into words. Everything felt so unreal—until this very moment, when his brother truly stood right before his eyes.
Suddenly, Lu Xingyu stepped forward and hugged his brother tightly.
Cheng Xinglang’s palm pressed firmly on his younger brother’s shoulder.
“Liu Xingyu,” Fangfang whispered softly, standing on tiptoe to speak into Qing’s ear.
“It’s Lu Xingyu,” Zhu Qing chuckled lightly, ruffling his little head. “Silly Fangfang.”
“Silly Qingzi,” Sheng Fang said seriously, “It’s the meteor shower you see when you make a wish, and then your dreams come true.”
The uncle and nephew stood to the side, watching this scene unfold.
Tears welled up clearly in the brothers’ eyes, yet they held back, their stubbornness mirroring each other perfectly.
“Clang—”
The sharp sound of bottles and jars colliding interrupted this tender moment.
Cheng Xinglang looked down at the bulging plastic bag in his brother’s hands. “What’s this?”
It was the seasoning Sheng Fang had bought. The little master, not only carrying jingling coins in his palm but also some bills, had bought such a variety of seasonings that he could almost open a professional restaurant in Dr. Cheng’s home.
Just now downstairs, the child had confidently shoved the heavy bag into Lu Xingyu’s hands, making him carry it all the way.
“Brother,” Lu Xingyu pointed at Fangfang, “He’s bossing me around.”
Sheng Fang tilted his head innocently, his face full of innocence.
And now he was tattling?
Cheng Xinglang pulled his younger brother close with a laugh. “He’s an elder, so I have to listen to him too.”
Lu Xingyu looked at Sheng Fang with a puzzled expression.
Fangfang showed off his adorable little baby teeth, as if to say—
You have to listen to me too, you know.
……
That day, Lu Xingyu finally stepped through the front door of home.
He didn’t rush to explore the house. Because to him, what mattered was never the building itself, but the family beside him.
Lu Xingyu met his brother’s girlfriend.
She was a Madam at the Yau Ma Tei Police Station. They had met and grown close through work. Their tacit understanding needed no words, and the smiles in their eyes were genuine happiness for their reunion.
He also met his brother’s future brother-in-law.
This little guy was also a police officer at Yau Ma Tei Police Station. At just four and a half years old, he spoke like an adult, though his baby voice was still tender, leaving Lu Xingyu completely bewildered.
The uncle and nephew were not part of a scam gang.
To Cheng Xinglang, they were special.
On the table were four dishes and a soup, all cooked by Cheng Xinglang himself. He rarely cooked, actually, but every Lunar New Year’s Eve without fail, he would prepare a reunion dinner at the old house in Ho Man Tin. Maybe cooking was a talent too, because the dishes before him looked quite impressive.
Lu Xingyu held his chopsticks, the aroma of white rice drifting to his nose. The taste of home was no longer a distant, elusive memory. As he ate, he felt the warmth before him—the hard-won happiness felt so unreal.
He tasted the sweet and sour pork ribs.
No child can resist the tangy sweetness of that flavor; when they were young, the brothers’ chopsticks would always clash fiercely over the plate.
“I’ve tried so many times,” Lu Xingyu said, his throat tightening. “But I just can’t recreate the taste of home, no matter what I do, it never feels right.”
Cheng Xinglang picked up another rib and offered it to him. “Is it closer now?”
The familiar taste blurred the lines of time, and Lu Xingyu felt as if he had slipped back into his childhood.
“When did you secretly learn to cook this?” he asked curiously. “Did Dad teach you?”
“I figured it out myself,” Cheng Xinglang said proudly, glancing at Zhu Qing and Sheng Fang. “Right? He’s never been as smart as me since we were kids.”
Lu Xingyu’s chopsticks froze mid-air, just as his gaze met Fangfang’s sincere, wide eyes.
Zhu Qing also looked up, their eyes locking in a moment of shared confusion.
“Really,” the uncle and nephew nodded firmly. “He says that every day.”
The younger brother squinted. “Hey—”
But the older brother pretended not to hear, quietly eating his rice, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite himself.
Cheng Xinglang had never bowed his head in defeat, even through the hardest times. He never believed that fate would leave him with nothing.
And now, fate’s arrangement had finally given him a reassuring answer.
……
This reunion dinner was nothing more than a few simple dishes, unplanned and far from lavish.
Yet Cheng Xinglang and Lu Xingyu ate with great care. For the first time in eighteen years, sitting at the same table, they were cautious and gentle, afraid to disturb this beautiful dream.
After dinner, Zhu Qing quietly took Fangfang’s small hand in hers.
She knew the brothers needed some time alone.
Zhu Qing was no stranger to this feeling—it was like when their mother first woke up in the Berlin hospital. That was a reunion moment belonging only to the two of them, mother and daughter.
“We’ll head back first,” Zhu Qing said.
Cheng Xinglang reached for the car keys out of habit, but she gently pressed down on his wrist.
“We came by car today.” She shook the keys in her hand.
“I’ll see you down,” Cheng Xinglang insisted.
As the door was about to close, he suddenly turned back and nodded toward the kitchen. “Xingyu, wash the dishes.”
Lu Xingyu froze in place, looking down at his hands, then at the chaos in the kitchen.
After so many years apart, the first day of reunion and he still had to wash the dishes? His brother was just as unyielding as when they were kids.
The door clicked softly, the lock falling into place.
Outside, the streetlamp cast long, overlapping shadows.
Fangfang happily played the shadow-stepping game, the chubby roundness of his little cheeks trembling with each jump. The little one made a firm decision: even if one day he grew up to be a great adult, he would never stop playing this game!
In the night breeze, Zhu Qing and Cheng Xinglang’s low voices brushed past.
Suddenly, he opened his palm. “Pinch yourself.”
Zhu Qing laughed, gently placing her hand into his palm, their fingers entwining. “This isn’t a dream.”
It’s not a dream—her brother had truly come back.
The long wait finally had an answer, and everything was worth it.
The soft glow of the streetlamp fell on Cheng Xinglang’s sharply defined profile.
He lowered his head, gazing at her. The moonlight traced every thread of emotion clearly; he made no effort to hide them. Beside her, there was no need for any pretense anymore.
“You’ve been through so much hardship,” Zhu Qing squeezed his hand gently, paused for a moment, then smiled softly, “From now on, everything will be sweet.”
Cheng Xinglang said nothing, only pulled her into his embrace.
Real breaths, real heartbeats.
He thought to himself, those hardships no longer needed mentioning. The days ahead would surely be filled with sweetness.
“How come you two are hugging by yourselves?” Sheng Fang, the little one, protested with a playful bounce.
The next moment, Sheng Fang experienced the “riding a horse” game he'd only seen on TV for the first time.
Cheng Xinglang effortlessly lifted him onto his shoulders.
Fangfang’s little legs wobbled as he held onto Doctor Cheng’s ears like handlebars, his eyes sparkling with delight, “Wow, so high up!”
Zhu Qing supported their little one’s back, stretching up on her toes just to ruffle his hair.
The walk to the garage wasn’t long, but they took their time.
The night breeze was gentle. Sheng Fang, perched on Doctor Cheng’s broad shoulders, flashed a victory sign, casting a shadow among the three intertwined figures.
In that shadow, Fangfang was no longer a little giant.
He was a truly big giant now!
……
Her younger brother dawdled, so when Cheng Xinglang returned, he was just beginning to slowly tidy up the kitchen.
The two brothers stood side by side at the sink, just like when they played with water as kids—one rinsing, the other drying, passing dishes back and forth.
Only back then, Cheng Xinglang had to stand on tiptoe, and his brother had to bring over a small stool.
Now, they stood shoulder to shoulder.
“Not clean enough,”
“Mom always said that,” Lu Xingyu suddenly laughed, “She washed dishes really fast but never quite got the grease off the bottoms. In the end, Dad would have to redo them.”
“She’d sneak away quietly, but halfway out the door, Dad would drag her back,” Cheng Xinglang lowered his head, smiling, his gaze lingering on the droplets of water sliding off the dishes. The little moments of life seemed to pull him back to the past. “We’d supervise from the side, and eventually Mom just handed the dishwashing duty over to us.”
The memories were vivid and alive.
The brothers had grown up, no longer the drenched kids who’d finish washing dishes with wet clothes. Now, the kitchen echoed with the clinking of plates and bowls, the countertop restored to order, yet filled with pots, pans, and colorful seasoning bottles that gave this house the warmth and character of a true home.
This night was destined to be sleepless for Cheng Xinglang.
He had prepared the spare bedroom next door for his brother, but before going to bed, he came over holding a pillow and without a word, started to sleep on the floor. It was just like when they were kids—half asleep, the little one would sneak into the room and lie down on the floor, refusing to budge.
The night was deep.
They chatted on and off about the years gone by, tacitly avoiding the grievances and hardships they had endured, sharing only the good news, not the bad. The family they had met along the way had been kind, work had gone smoothly. Those scars remained etched in memory, never to be forgotten, but now they had healed over. If touched carefully, they no longer hurt.
“If Mom and Dad knew… they’d definitely be very happy.”
Lu Xingyu stared up at the ceiling.
Cheng Xinglang turned onto his side, resting his head on his arm.
Lu Xingyu knew that, in a way, his own life was easier than his brother’s.
“Brother,” Lu Xingyu’s voice was dry and hoarse, “after all this time, aren’t you tired?”
But Cheng Xinglang told him that investigating the truth and searching for his younger brother had long since become a habit.
Without such a relentless obsession, living itself would be the thing that required perseverance.
“I just know you’re still alive,” Cheng Xinglang said.
“Too bad I didn’t know that,” Lu Xingyu replied softly.
“It’s okay.” His brother curled the corner of his mouth into a faint smile. “You were never very smart, anyway.”
The night deepened.
The exhaustion from the long flight finally caught up with Lu Xingyu’s heavy eyelids. Just as Cheng Xinglang reached out to turn off the light, the person on the bed stiffened noticeably.
Cheng Xinglang noticed, his eyes darkening.
So, his younger brother was afraid to sleep with the lights off.
With a sharp “click,” the light was turned back on.
Fangfang’s eyelids drooped with fatigue, and as the light once again filled the room, the tension in his shoulders eased.
He knew that tonight, he would sleep especially soundly.
There were still many things Lu Xingyu wanted to say deep down.
He wanted to say “thank you.” It was this persistence that finally led him home.
But Lu Xingyu knew exactly how his brother would respond.
Cheng Xinglang would probably say—
“Blood’s thicker than water. No need for thanks.”
……
At the annual check-up, this time, under the doctor’s advice, Sheng Fang underwent an allergy test.
When he got the report, Fangfang’s eyes sparkled like stars.
“I’m growing up!” He bounced even more excitedly than a little spring. “Qingzi, mango! Mango!”
The results showed that the little boy was no longer allergic to mangoes.
In other words, he no longer had to settle for the fake mango shaved ice from the temple street night market. From now on, he could eat real mangoes.
On the way home, Zhu Qing deliberately took Fangfang into a fruit shop and picked out several golden yellow mangoes.
Once home, the uncle and nephew washed their hands and sat at the dining table, ready for the moment.
“Are you ready?”
Fangfang nodded his little head nonstop.
Aunt Ping stood nearby, nervously wringing her hands.
What if he got sick? What if the young master’s little mouth swelled up like a sausage?
Aunt Ping even squeezed the handset in her apron pocket.
If there was an allergic reaction, should she call an ambulance or contact the young lady’s private doctor?
Zhu Qing took a deep breath. “Let’s eat!”
“Are you going to peel it for me?” Fangfang poked his chubby cheeks.
“Do you expect me to peel it for you?”
“Please.” Fangfang suddenly pressed his cheek against her arm in a sweet gesture.
It had been a long time since he’d used that trick.
Zhu Qing still couldn’t resist such a cute plea and began peeling the mango for him.
Real mangoes truly lived up to their reputation—this was Fangfang’s first reaction to tasting the real thing.
He pursed his lips, and after every couple of bites, he would run to look in the mirror.
“Fangfang, are you swollen?”
“Nope! My mouth is flat—”
All evening, the house was filled with this kind of “check-in” chatter.
“Is it swollen now?”
“Not yet, and it’s not itchy either!”
“Qingzi, Qingzi, go cut some mangoes again.”
“Do it yourself!”
……
After Sheng Peirong woke up, she never once went to see Sheng Peishan.
It wasn’t because she couldn’t bear it, nor because she was afraid to face her; she simply felt there was no need.
Sheng Peirong had watched Sheng Peishan grow up. She had seen her sister transform from a baby into a young girl and knew her temperament better than anyone else. She refused to believe that Peishan had pushed her into the abyss out of jealousy, nor did she want to speculate on her sister’s thoughts back then. But even if it was just a moment of recklessness, a single wrong impulse, the price was far too heavy.
Every month, the prison sent a visitation request from her sister. Until this time, Sheng Peirong finally agreed to visit. Perhaps, they needed to see each other one last time.
The glass in the visitation room separated the two of them.
Wearing prison clothes, Sheng Peishan raised her hand and pointed to the receiver, her lips trembling as she whispered, “Sister…”
Sheng Peirong only regained consciousness after the final verdict was passed.
While Sheng Peishan was consulting her defense lawyer about an appeal, she accidentally learned this news.
During those years at Jianoan Sanatorium, Sheng Peishan visited her sister every month, reading newspapers to the one who was asleep. She never imagined how she would face her sister once she woke up; she thought her sister would never awaken.
But it turned out, miracles really do exist in this world.
“Si-sister…”
“Have you met Coco?”
Through the cold glass, Sheng Peirong’s gaze fell on her sister’s haggard face.
Her hand never once reached out to touch the receiver in front of her.
This sister, once cherished and held tenderly in her hands, was now treating her like this. If only Peishan had spoken the truth earlier, the irreparable damage might have been avoided. But if she felt heartbroken, that feeling had long since frozen solid. Over the years, Sheng Peirong had endured countless hardships, even walked through the gates of death; she no longer shed tears for those who were unworthy.
“How’s your health? You can walk now, right?”
“You must have recognized Coco, right? That day on the hillside, the moment I saw her, I felt a strange familiarity.”
“And little brother, how is he doing?”
The visitation room echoed with Sheng Peishan’s choked questions, laced with cautious probing. She longed to talk heart-to-heart like before, hoping to return to being children again—no matter what mistakes they made, to be forgiven.
Yet, she received no response.
Sheng Peirong didn’t even raise her hand to grasp the receiver; she simply stared at her quietly, as if looking at a stranger.
Sheng Peishan had never seen her sister like this before. The sister who was always decisive and sincere only with her was now cold and indifferent.
She knew—there was no going back.
Tears streamed down her face in heavy drops, pounding against the thick glass window as she poured out her regret, guilt, and pain. She knew that one wrong step had led to a cascade of mistakes. She shouldn’t have done it—never should have—and almost ruined her sister’s entire life.
But what use were words now?
Finally, Sheng Peishan raised a handwritten note against the glass.
It was a voluntary declaration to relinquish her inheritance, prepared long ago after hearing the news of Sheng Peirong’s recovery.
This time, Sheng Peirong finally picked up the receiver.
“Sis, I’ll get in touch with the lawyer to handle the formalities. All the inherited property will be transferred to you and Coco,” she said.
“Consider it... compensation.”
Peirong replied with a single word: “Okay.”
Her answer was straightforward, without hesitation.
This was what Coco deserved.
When family ties have shattered, and love and hate are tangled beyond repair, sometimes money is the only way to settle things.
Sheng Peirong stood up and walked toward the exit.
Sheng Peishan leaned forward, pressing her hands tightly against the cold glass. “Sis—”
She had a faint premonition that this turn, perhaps, was a final farewell.
But Sheng Peirong never looked back.
The laughter and pain, the bond between sisters, were all sealed with a period at this moment.
Inside the black sedan, Sheng Peirong gazed out the window.
“Uncle Nian, what local snacks does Stanley have?” she suddenly asked.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips. As she pushed open the car door, the summer breeze carried a wave of heat toward her.
“Bring some back for Coco and Fangfang,” she said, striding forward.
……
Although Lu Xingyu had returned home, eighteen years had passed, and every street and building in Hong Kong had changed beyond recognition.
He stood on the street corner, watching the flickering neon signs, the flow of cars and crowds—everything felt unfamiliar.
So, in the countless days that followed, his older brother, Zhu Qing, and their little uncle would always take him through the winding streets, as if trying to make up for lost time.
They brought him to the most authentic cha chaan tengs. The tables turned over quickly, orders were shouted out loud, and when the food arrived, the plates slid across the table with a sharp “shua” sound. Everyone seemed to be rushing through their meals in a lively hustle.
The curry fishballs on the street were spicy and bouncy, skewered on bamboo sticks. The egg waffles were crispy and fragrant. He broke them apart to eat but found it troublesome, so he simply took a big bite. Sheng Fang imitated Lu Xingyu, opening his little mouth wide and “ahh” — stuffing the egg waffle into his chubby cheeks, making his round face look even puffier. Bo zai gao (steamed rice cakes) came in many flavors, with a chewy texture and a delicate fragrance that lingered on the tongue—a sweet taste from memories past.
Those childhood flavors were fully awakened. Even after growing up and tasting them again, the flavors were just as rich as before.
Passing by a cart noodle stall, Sheng Fang tugged at his niece’s sleeve. “Qingzai, have we been here before?”
“Smart baby,” Zhu Qing said, casually rubbing Fangfang’s round cheeks.
“I’m four and a half, not a baby anymore!”
“To me, Fangfang will always be one.”
Cheng Xinglang smiled as he greeted the stall owner, an elderly man.
Fangfang remembered this place—after that motorcycle ride, they had sat on folding stools by the roadside, eating late-night snacks. That day, the noise had faded away, and Dr. Cheng had said his goodbyes, his figure growing smaller under the streetlights, solitary and distant. But now, his side was filled with people.
It was still early, and the stall hadn’t yet been crowded with bustling diners.
The elderly stall owner ladled soup into bowls, smiling warmly as he asked, “Young man, why’s it so lively today?”
Cheng Xinglang smiled and introduced everyone one by one.
“I noticed it last time!” When he introduced Zhu Qing, the old man winked at her and said, “All these years, I’ve never seen him bring a girl here before.”
The young master of the Sheng family looked up helplessly and shook his head.
Even his uncle didn’t notice, but the old man did? What a chatterbox.
The old man’s expression, like most others, was one of bewilderment when he learned that this tiny kid in front of him was the uncle.
“What?”
Lu Xingyu took the chance to squat down and whispered to Fangfang, “It’s not that I’m not smart, you just look like a little liar.”
Fangfang jumped up.
How do you talk to adults like that!
Finally, Cheng Xinglang introduced Lu Xingyu: “My younger brother.”
“The two brothers look so alike, it’s obvious at a glance!” The old man beamed.
Laughter mingled with the steam rising from the rich, fragrant soup.
They walked through street after street like this.
Whenever they met someone familiar, Cheng Xinglang would make introductions.
Lu Xingyu quietly whispered to Zhu Qing, “How come my brother seems to know everyone wherever he goes?”
“I just found out today too,” Zhu Qing chuckled.
“Dr. Cheng is outgoing,” the young junior admired, “Good.”
When they reached Nathan Road, they ran into Agent Wang, dressed sharply in a suit.
The man hurriedly stopped, “Mr. Cheng, what a coincidence!”
As he spoke, Agent Wang’s gaze swept over the young master of the Sheng family and his niece.
These two were real treasures; before even saying hello, his face was already lit up with a dazzling smile.
Before Cheng Xinglang could speak, Fangfang puffed out his little chest and said seriously, “He’s my brother!”
Agent Wang’s eyes instantly brightened.
Opportunities always favor the prepared!
He immediately launched into a sales pitch: “Mr. Cheng, does your brother want to see some apartments? There are some discounts right now!”
“I live with my brother,” came the reply.
Agent Wang pressed on, “Then when your brother gets married, don’t forget to come to me!”
Cheng Xinglang smiled, tightening his grip on Zhu Qing’s hand. “I’ll take your kind words to heart.”
Little Sheng Fang tried to pry his hand apart but Cheng Xinglang held on even tighter.
Zhu Qing’s eyes curved into a smile, and Lu Xingyu couldn’t help but laugh aloud.
“Remember to come to me when you’re buying a house after getting married,” Agent Wang said with a grin, pressing his advantage before turning to Sheng Fang, “You too, young master.”
Life is tough, making a living is hard.
From now on, this whole family will keep him chasing after them to sell apartments for the next twenty years.
Agent Wang clenched his fist quietly—
The future sales—he’s counting on you all!
