The afternoon sun filtered through Grandpa Li's curtains, casting gentle shadows across the modest living room.
Nana knocked three times—their familiar rhythm—and waited, adjusting the thermos in her hands. Inside, the soup was still warm, steam rising when she'd sealed it an hour ago.
She'd spent last night trying to recreate the dish Grandpa Li had mentioned in passing—lotus root soup with pork ribs, the kind his late wife used to make.
Nana had never cooked it before, had to ask the market vendor for advice, spent precious yuan on ingredients she usually couldn't afford. But the way Grandpa's voice had softened when he spoke about it, the distant look in his eyes...
She wanted to give him that memory back, even just for one meal.
"Nana! Come in, come in, child."
Grandpa Li opened the door with his usual warm smile, though Nana noticed he moved a bit slower than last week.
She made a mental note to insist he rest more.
"I brought soup," she said, slipping off her shoes at the entrance.
"I tried to make the one you told me about. I'm not sure if it's right, but—"
"Lotus root soup?" His eyes widened, then misted over. "Child, you didn't have to..."
"I wanted to." Nana moved to the kitchen, finding a bowl, preparing everything just as he liked it. She poured him water—he never drank enough water—and set the soup carefully on the table.
"How was your trip last week? You said you were visiting the city."
They settled into their comfortable routine, Grandpa Li in his favorite chair, Nana perched on the edge of the sofa, genuinely curious about his journey.
"Ah, Linkon City."
He sipped the soup and made a sound of pure contentment.
"Just like she used to make it. Perfect, Nana. Perfect." He paused, eyes distant.
"The city... it's changed so much. Skyscrapers everywhere, reaching up like they're trying to touch heaven. But the air—so polluted you can barely see the stars. And the noise! Cars, construction, people shouting into phones. Everyone rushing, no one seeing each other"
Nana listened, chin resting on her hand. She remembered the city from many years ago, before everything fell apart. The bright lights, the constant motion, the way her mother used to take her shopping in those gleaming malls. It felt like another lifetime. Someone else's memories.
"I visited my grandson," Grandpa Li continued, watching her carefully.
"Zayne. The one I've told you about."
"The robot doctor?"
Nana teased gently, earning a chuckle.
"The very same."
He reached for his phone—old, clunky, taking several attempts to find the right photo.
"Here. This is him."
Nana leaned forward, and her breath caughtThe photo showed a man on a stage, receiving some kind of award.
He was tall—impossibly tall from this angle—in a perfectly tailored dark suit. His face was... striking. Sharp jawline, serious expression, those hazel eyes even visible in the photograph, intense and focused. His dark hair was styled immaculately, his posture perfect. He looked like he belonged in a magazine, not real life.
Like a prince from a fairy tale, Nana thought, then immediately felt foolish for thinking it.
"He's very handsome," she said carefully, handing the phone back.
"Everyone says that." Grandpa Li's voice carried a note of sadness.
"They see the outside—successful, accomplished, wonderful. The youngest chief of cardiology in Linkon Hospital's history. Award winner. Brilliant surgeon."
He paused, staring at his grandson's image. "But inside, Nana... inside he's broken."
Nana's smile faded.
"Broken?"
"His parents are both doctors. Important people, always busy saving the world." Grandpa Li set his phone down gently.
"When Zayne was small, they sent him to me. Said it was temporary, just while they established their careers. He was three years old, crying every night for his mama and baba. I held him, told him they'd come back soon."
The old man's voice grew thick with emotion. "But 'soon' became months. Months became years. They visited once, maybe twice a year. Birthday video calls. Holiday phone calls. Money sent regularly, but no hugs. No presence. No time."
Nana's chest tightened. She thought of her own father—present but absent, there but not really there, choosing alcohol and other women over his children. At least she'd had her mother. At least she'd been wanted by someone.
Nana's chest tightened. She thought of her own father—present but absent, there but not really there, choosing alcohol and other women over his children.
At least she'd had her mother.
At least she'd been wanted by someone.
"He grew up here, in this countryside," Grandpa Li continued. "Smart boy, so smart. Brilliant at school. I thought maybe that brilliance would save him, give him something to hold onto. But it just made him more alone. Other children didn't understand him. Teachers praised him but didn't know him. He learned to exist in his own world—books, studies, medicine. Safe things. Logical things."
"When did he leave?" Nana asked
softly.
"Seventeen. Graduated early, got into the best medical school in Linkon. I was so proud. So afraid." Grandpa Li wiped his eyes.
"He lived alone from then on. His parents visited even less—both abroad now, doing research. They send money for his apartment, his expenses. They call on his birthday. But Nana... last year, I saw a video he sent them. He was celebrating his birthday. Alone. A single cupcake with one candle. He sang 'Happy Birthday' to himself."
Nana's vision blurred. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear it.
"He smiled in the video," Grandpa Li said, voice breaking. "But his eyes... his eyes were so empty. He's fragile, that boy. So fragile. But he's learned to hide it behind that clinical language, that cold professionalism. People think he's a robot. They don't see the lonely child still waiting for his parents to choose him."
Silence fell between them, heavy with shared understanding. Nana looked at the photo again—that handsome, successful man in his expensive suit on that grand stage. She tried to imagine him as a three-year-old, crying for parents who never came.
Tried to imagine him singing to himself in an empty apartment.
Her throat ached.
"He sounds wonderful," she whispered finally. "Even with all that pain... he became a doctor. He saves people. That's... that's beautiful, Grandpa."
"He is wonderful. He just doesn't know it." Grandpa Li studied her face. "I told him about you. About how you help me, how you work so hard, how you still smile despite everything."
Nana's head snapped up. "You told him about me?"
Every time we talk." Grandpa Li smiled gently. "I think... I think you two would understand each other. You've both survived abandonment. You both carry too much alone. You both—"
"Grandpa." Nana shook her head, that familiar insecurity rising like bile. "Please don't. I... I appreciate the thought, but I don't belong in his world. Look at him." She gestured to the phone.
"He's successful, educated, wealthy. He lives in a city with skyscrapers. I live in a wooden house that leaks when it rains. He saves lives. I barely survive."
"Nana—"
"He needs someone on his level,"
she continued, voice firm despite the trembling. "Someone with a good education, a stable career, a proper family background. Someone who wears beautiful clothes and knows how to act at fancy dinners. Someone who..."
She trailed off, looking down at her worn school uniform, her rough hands callused from work and washing clothes.
"Someone who isn't me."
"You underestimate yourself, child."
"No." Nana met his eyes, sad but certain.
"I see myself clearly. And I see him. We're from completely different worlds, Grandpa. Maybe in another life, or another universe where I didn't have to drop everything to help my family... but not this one. Not now."
She stood, gathering her bag, her thermos.
"A man like that—he's wonderful, yes. But he belongs with someone equally wonderful. Someone who can stand beside him in those fancy hospitals, at those award ceremonies, in that life".
Her smile was gentle but resigned.
"I belong here. With my siblings, my mother, my part-time job. This is my world. And I'm okay with that."
Grandpa Li watched her prepare to leave, his heart aching for both of his children—his grandson in the city, his adopted granddaughter in the countryside.
Both so convinced they didn't deserve happiness. Both so wrong.
"Will you come next week?" he asked as she reached the door.
"Of course." Nana smiled—that bright, genuine smile that never quite reached her tired eyes.
"I'll bring the vegetable dumplings you like. And Grandpa? Please don't mention me to him anymore. It's not fair to either of us to imagine something that can never happen."
After she left, Li Jian sat in his chair for a long time, staring at his grandson's photo.
Two wonderful souls. Both drowning in different ways. Both convinced they weren't worthy of being saved.
"You stubborn children," he whispered to the empty room.
"You don't see it yet. But you need each other. Whether you believe it or not."
He looked out the window at the setting sun, thinking of Nana walking home to her crowded house, thinking of Zayne alone in his sterile apartment.
Both so different. Both so achingly the same.
And in his old, wise heart, Li Jian knew—with the certainty of someone who had lived long enough to recognize fate when he saw it—that they would meet.
Perhaps not today.
Perhaps not tomorrow.
But someday, somehow, his two lonely children would find each other.
And when they did, maybe they'd finally learn that belonging isn't about being from the same world.
It's about choosing to build a new world together.
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To be continued.