South Street Bakery [1990s]

Tao Tao dozed off for a moment and woke up back in 1997.

That year, Hong Kong returned to China. She was eight years old, and everything was still intact.

Her family’s bakery hadn’t closed down. Her stepmother, Auntie Yu, hadn’t been driven away by her own difficult, sharp-tongued ways. And Yu Luan hadn’t died.

The old sunlight filtered through the vintage glass display case at home. Tears streaming down her face, she watched seven-year-old Yu Luan squat beneath a row of cream flower basket cakes, clicking away as he played with a tin frog.

—He was the mildly autistic brother Auntie Yu had brought with him.

Glancing at the childish, scratched-in words on the table—”Bad woman and idiot not allowed inside”—Tao Tao resolved to rewrite fate.

Living her life over again, she wanted everyone she loved to be happy.

Especially Yu Luan… When they were little, she used to bully him. He wouldn’t even cry loudly. Fair-skinned and well-behaved, he could only look at her with eyes like clear springs and tug at her clothes: “Jie jie.”

After her rebirth, she helps manage the family bakery, studies hard, loves her family and friends, and trains Yu Luan to live independently. Just as everything is flourishing, Yu Luan has a breakdown from stress. Tao Tao soothes him for ages before he buries his face in her shoulder like a big dog and tearfully complains: “I hate it when others hold your hand.”

**

In Yu Luan’s understanding, the world follows an absolute, formulaic order.

Only Tao Tao is the unknown X.

She messes up his puzzles, hides his homework, makes him do all sorts of things. But when a typhoon strikes, she pulls him into the room to protect him. Later, during every childhood thunderstorm, he stands outside her door with his pillow, waiting for her to pull him in with a mix of disdain and care.

No matter how difficult a math problem, it can always be solved.

Only his feelings for his sister—those he can’t calculate.

Not until he sees Tao Tao holding hands and hugging a boy. The pain in his chest gives him the answer.

—He will never let anyone take his sister away.

On the day she comes of age, Tao Tao stands on tiptoe and ruffles his head: “Our little Taro is eighteen now. What do you want for your birthday?”

He stares at her and says quietly:

“There’s nothing I really want.”

“I just want Jie Jie.”

Pre-meal must-read:

1. Story spans from childhood to adulthood. Geographically fictional. A cozy, healing 1990s food-and-daily-life story.

2. HE. Reborn baker sister × brother with Asperger’s syndrome.

3. No blood relation. The step-parent marriage dissolves (not angsty), and they fall in love as adults.

4. The writing style is detailed and slow-burn. There’s a business storyline about running the bakery throughout, but daily life, growth, and relationships also take up a lot of space. Not a cutthroat career-focused story. Side characters get their moments. Slight ensemble feel.

5. Neither the male nor female lead is perfect. The male lead is not a genius. Please don’t compare to real life—every person with Asperger’s is different, from chatty ones to those less verbal. Sincerely hoping that every child from the stars won’t be lonely forever. If this bothers you, please don’t read. Thank you, and happy reading~

One-line summary: I only want Jie Jie