Chapter 77: Back to Work

The winter morning light slanted softly through the windows, casting delicate golden patterns against the wooden floor. A thin frost clung to the garden tiles outside, and inside her room, Jia Lan blinked sleepily at her wardrobe before stretching her arms over her head.

"It's time to stop worrying about exam results," she told herself as she padded over to the mirror. "What will come, will come. Let's just live the day."

She had taken a few days off from the Youth Arts Bureau to rest after the college entrance exam, and the soft laziness of those days had melted into her bones like honey in hot tea. But today, duty called again.

After washing up and applying her rose water toner and a swipe of cherry-flavored lip balm, Jia Lan reached for her newly bought ivory wool coat. The hand-sewn buttons—tiny plum blossoms with silver threading—glinted subtly in the light, and the lace lining inside the collar added a soft feminine touch that made her smile. She slipped into a warm, creamy cashmere sweater and pleated grey wool skirt, then tugged on the dark brown leather ankle boots her mother had insisted on buying for her last week.

She looped a dusty rose scarf around her neck and glanced at herself in the mirror one last time. The overall look was both elegant and modest—perfect for work and perfect for winter.

With her coat swishing lightly, she made her way downstairs, drawn by the rich aroma of breakfast wafting through the air.

In the dining room, the family was already gathered around the table. The clatter of chopsticks and cheerful voices greeted her.

"There she is!" Jia Wei called out. "Our lady of leisure has returned to society!"

"Barely," Jia Lan muttered, plopping into her chair and letting out a theatrical sigh. "I'd rather go back to bed. Why do we even need jobs in this world?"

"Then don't go," her father said with a wink. "You can stay home and become the full-time supervisor of baby Naun's laughter."

"I volunteer as tribute," Jia Zhe chimed in, reaching for a second bowl of soy milk. "Actually, I don't want to go to work either."

"Me too," Jia Wei added dramatically. "Let's declare a household strike."

Mother Jia raised her brows. "How about this—if any of you dares to not go to work, I'll send you to the countryside to pluck sweet potatoes for the next three months."

"Retreat!" Jia Wei whispered in mock terror, slinking lower in his seat. "Mother is too powerful."

Laughter erupted around the table. Baby Naun clapped her hands from her high chair, delighted by the noise.

The breakfast spread was warm and inviting—fluffy scrambled eggs with green onion, millet congee with dried red dates, steamed buns filled with sweet taro, and pickled cabbage for that spicy winter kick. Jia Lan took a bite and sighed contentedly.

"If work starts with breakfast like this every day," she said, "maybe I won't mind as much."

After breakfast, she said goodbye to her family, buttoned her coat tightly, and stepped out into the chilly air.

The walk to the Youth Arts Bureau was crisp but pleasant. The frost still clung to the roadside leaves, and the breath of winter hovered in the air like mist. Jia Lan's boots clicked against the pavement rhythmically, her scarf fluttering lightly behind her.

Once inside the warm, familiar Bureau office, she was greeted by the scent of ink and old paper.

"Sister Jia!" one of the younger staff called out cheerfully. "You're back!"

Jia Lan nodded with a smile. "I've only been gone a few days. Don't act like I've been drafted to the border."

Even Director Xu offered her a rare smile from his office doorway. "Good to see you back. Take it easy today—you've earned it."

She returned to her desk and organized her notes. Her colleagues had already left a few files for her—nothing urgent, thankfully. She moved through them at a relaxed pace, answering a few queries, reviewing logistics, and then filing the rest.

Around mid-morning, she walked over to Wang Fei's desk.

"How did you do on the exam?" she asked casually.

Wang Fei looked up from his notes, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I think... alright. I'd reviewed the material once, thanks to you. You inspired half the department to study, you know."

"Oh?" Jia Lan smiled, leaning against the edge of his desk. "And here I thought I was just the eccentric one carrying around books during lunch breaks."

"Well, you're still that," he teased, "but also the smart one."

She laughed and gave him a light pat on the shoulder. "Well, I hope you do well. Let's both pass."

With work winding down, she packed her things, thanked Director Xu, and left for home just as the sky began to deepen into a pale silver dusk.

At home, Grandmother Jia had already prepared a kettle of chrysanthemum and goji berry tea. Jia Lan took her cup to the courtyard where her grandparents sat under a wool blanket, discussing the condition of their winter cabbages.

"Lan'er," Grandfather Jia said, accepting the cup she handed him, "you're glowing. That coat suits you."

"It's a magic coat," Jia Lan said, sipping her tea. "It grants temporary immunity from workplace boredom."

Grandmother Jia laughed. "Then I'll order five more for your brothers."

The three of them sat under the bare persimmon tree, watching the last light fade behind the tiled roofs. Baby Naun crawled over on her chubby legs, making soft babbling noises, chasing a rolling pine cone under supervision.

"She's getting stronger every day," Grandmother Jia said proudly. "Just like her aunt."

That night, dinner was once again a warm affair—steamed meatballs, cabbage stir-fried with ginger, and golden-brown radish cakes. Jia Lan was served an extra portion and was about to protest when her mother placed a hand on her arm.

"Don't argue. You used your brain all day—you need nourishment."

Even baby Naun seemed to approve, waving her spoon like a banner of victory.

After the dishes were cleared and the house quieted down, Jia Lan returned to her desk. She lit her desk lamp and opened one of the system-provided story books .She still read with sharp focus.

Around 9:45 PM, there was a soft knock.

Father Jia walked in holding a glass of warm milk.

"Lan'er, that's enough for today. You'll wear out your brain."

"I was just reading some random story books ," Jia Lan said, taking the glass gratefully.

He sat on the arm of her chair, watching her for a moment.

"You know," he said, "no matter what the results say, we're already proud of you."

Jia Lan looked up and smiled.

"Even if I become a countryside poet living under a tree?"

"You'd be the best-dressed poet that tree has ever seen."

They both laughed softly.

Father Jia stood, gave her head a gentle pat, and said, "Go to bed soon."

"I will."

As he left, Jia Lan closed her book and looked at her book once more before sliding everything neatly back into her drawer. She took one last sip of milk, pulled her blanket up, and slipped into bed.

The night air outside was still and star-kissed. And in that stillness, Jia Lan smiled, feeling full—not just from dinner, but from warmth, from family, and from a quiet kind of hope.