Circumstances

The silence of the bakery at this time of night is welcome.

Everything is bathed in darkness, subtle hues of moonlight blue shimmering off the countertops as Sera makes her way through, her feet knowing the place off by heart. She had spent her entire life growing up here, had countless memories of running around the kitchen with flour-smeared hands and sugar sprinkled in her hair, her clothes, her shoes.

Those were the happy memories that now lingered like a foggy past amidst the film of tears coating her eyes every time her gaze swept through the space that had once seemed so alive and buzzing with clients and happy customers.

She isn't used to seeing it so empty, so devoid of human warmth. The coldness seeps into her bones and she shivers unconsciously, drawing her arms across her chest in retaliation to the cold.

Her phone rings suddenly in the silence. Sera fishes it out of her pocket, accepts the call before she presses it to her ear.

"It's late," her mother's voice is soft, "where are you?"

"I'm at Little Baoxi," Sera answers, sinking down into one of the empty metal chairs, "how's Gong gong?"

"He's stable now. The doctor managed to remove most of the water from his lungs. We'll go see him tomorrow."

There are so many things she wishes to say, that she wishes she could say, in the empty silence that follows. Instead, her throat clogs up without warning and it gets a little harder to breathe.

"What time are you coming home?"

"Soon," Sera says with a small voice.

"Don't stay out too late."

"I won't."

"Lock the doors well before you leave. Don't forget--"

"Yes I know," Sera cuts her off, though remorse follows soon after the sting filling her statement. It's not her mother's fault that Gong Gong fell sick. She shouldn't be taking it out on her, of all people.

A pause, before her mother's resigned murmur echoes through the receiver, "okay then."

"Bye."

Dropping her phone into her lap with a soft sigh, Sera finally looks up to allow the day's events to wash over her tired mind.

It doesn't feel like all of this happened in less than a week. The moment that Sera had stepped out of her last exam, she'd been surprised by her mother's frantic call scrabbling to explain what had happened to her grandfather, her Gong gong, as all his grandchildren called him. It hadn't made sense then, all the words jumbling through Sera's mind with only things like sick and operation and critical condition jumping into focus.

So she did the only thing she could. She packed her bags in two seconds flat, found the earliest flight possible, and a day later was back in the arms of her family.

"And what about Little Baoxi?" Sera had asked when they'd sat her down at the dinner table to clarify the situation.

"It's not open right now," her mother had said, "no one's free to run it."

"We might sell it," her father continued.

The words rang alarm bells in her head, "sell...Little Baoxi?"

The words had felt dry and hard on her tongue. She decided she didn't like it very much.

Mr. Ling sighed, "we can't afford to keep paying the rent when we're not getting any revenue."

"It wouldn't make sense to keep it when Gong Gong's health is not doing so well," her mother added, "he hasn't been very well in a long time, Sera."

Sera's heart had dropped like a heavy ball in her chest. The statement floated along in her mind, turning in ways that made her own stomach churn. She'd wanted to say something, anything that might help. But she'd kept running into a blank wall no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she thought of a solution out of this mess.

A sob etched its way up her throat at the memory of seeing her gong gong in bed, a syringe shoved into his left arm and his face sunken with fatigue. Blue aprons pressed grooves underneath his eyes, his mouth pulled down at the corners, and his limbs. His limbs were so tiny he practically drowned within the bedsheets.

The doctors had predicted him to rest for at least a month before resuming his work at the bakery. But Sera had heard of her family's hushed whispers about how this business was going nowhere. It was time to close the doors on Little Baoxi, even if that meant erasing all the hard work that her grandfather had brought to the place they could now call home.

To an extent, Sera understood where they all came from. No one wanted the risk of paying the price of a rented space when it was clearly on its last tether, and with no one to continue the business, it was going to crumble sooner or later. There was no doubt that all three of Gong gong's children -- her mother included -- had already decided on selling the shop without waiting for Gong gong's approval.

One less liability, they had said. One less thing to spend on so that they can all put that money into their savings instead.

Sera had reached for his hand, as if holding it would comfort her that he was still present with her, that this man lying so lifelessly in bed was still the same man that had taught her everything about her heritage, her family history, her life. And though the tears had welled up in her eyes, she had fiercely held them back in favour of a smile when Gong Gong had stirred awake, a frail twitch of his lips when he spotted her by his bedside.

A soft siren echoes in the distance, breaking the girl out of her jostled thoughts as she spares a glance out of the window.

Moving towards the flyers she had printed out earlier this morning, she tries not to think too much about the words floating along the page although she knows exactly what's written on them. She had been the one to make them, after all.

Hiring: part time baker for shifts from Tuesday to Saturday. Paying Rs 2500 per week. Call if interested.

If no one is keen to get Little Baoxi up and running, then Sera will have to take the lead. Not that she's an experienced baker. In fact, she might not even know how half of the food items sold on the menu.

But it pains her more to sit by and watch as her Gong Gong's hard work goes up in flames.

Reckless, her father had stated without hesitation when Sera finally coughed up the courage to tell them about her plan, reckless and just an excuse to put off her career for a year. Why was she wasting this time slaving away at something she wasn't even fond of?

Just let her be, her mother had come to her aid, more understanding even though her eyes had betrayed her. She had that same, worn out and worried look mirroring the one on her father's face.

"You're wasting your time," Sera's father had stated, "you think I took out loans so you could do what? Run a cheap bakery?"

"Just until Gong Gong is back on his feet," Sera had pleaded, voice breaking with restrained emotion, "please."

Mr. Ling had said nothing more, only shaken his head before leaving the table in silence. He didn't have to, for the disappointment was so evident on his face it made Sera's chest squeeze with guilt just thinking about it.

It is reckless. She herself has to admit that fact. Gong gong's bakery is old and, if not careful, might be shadowed by newer businesses that might take this chance to spring upon their customers. Sera wishes she could turn a blind eye and give the place back to its owner. It's the simplest solution, the most efficient one. Isn't that what her parents had always told her to do?

But no. She can't. She won't. Not if she can help it.

Her heart had decided before her mind did. And she just hopes, for once in her life, that she can rely on her gut instinct. Either that, or she's making a terrible mistake.

Hope. Sera thinks to herself as she grabs her bag and bakery keys, the noise poignant in the humming silence. That was all she can hold on to for now. Hope that her Gong Gong will get better.

And hope that one day, she won't regret this.

--------

"I heard you were looking for a chef?"

That voice instantly brings Sera out of her thought bubble. It literally pops, causing her to blink in realization that a young man in his early twenties stands before her shop counter, his tattooed forearms and dishevelled hair looking very out of place in the comfortable space of Little Baoxi.

It had been exactly two weeks since Sera had taken over the small bakery and the experience had been far from fun. There is no greater pain than going back to their storage archives filled with moths and cockroaches in order to find the stowed-away stash of recipes that her Gong gong had arduously collected over the years. She remembered it being in his little cardinal-coloured notebook and upon finding it in the very back -- squished between two coats that were slowly peeling apart at the seams -- Sera had opened it to find bits and pieces of his pages missing, chewed away by rodents and insects that had taken refuge during that period of elapsed time.

So it is comprehensible to find that Little Baoxi's pastries suddenly lack in colour and lustre. The truth is, Sera doesn't know how to bake. Not really, anyway. The only thing that has stuck by her is the breadmaking of the bao buns, specifically the steamed ones. Thus, it is no surprise that all her other pastries are turning out much less appealing from her memories.

"When are you going back?" her father had drilled her the night before. Sera had just made it home then, not even given the chance to hang up her coat before Mr. Ling had her cornered in the doorway.

"It's summer break, Pa," Sera had answered, tired from his endless, incessant grumbling, ""school doesn't start until September."

"What about internships? Are you not going to apply?" he'd followed her into the kitchen where Sera poured herself a glass of water. Her feet were throbbing from standing for too long, "this is your last year as a student. You need experience in the field you want to work in after graduation--"

"I know."

"So?"

"So I'll apply after I graduate."

A distinct pause. When Mr. Ling spoke again, there was no doubt that it was lined with barely repressed anger, "you are playing with your future and you expect me to be okay with this?"

Sera had sighed, torn between understanding his feelings and convincing him that saving Little Baoxi was more than just a personal project, "I'm not trying to fight with you, Pa," she'd finally said, "I just want to do what Gong gong would've wanted. I'll apply while working at Little Baoxi. If that makes you feel better."

She doubts she'll get any worthwhile opportunity, considering how competitive the market is and how there are hundreds, millions of candidates that are worth so much more than her.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"Yes uhm, sorry," Sera is brought back to reality then, "yeah, we're looking for a part-time baker. Would you be interested?"

"Yeah I saw your advert earlier."

"Do you have any baking experience?"

"I'm a chef in training actually. Does that count?"

Jackpot. This must be her lucky day. Trying to keep her voice even, Sera manages to set up an interview for tomorrow afternoon before ending the call, letting out a sigh of relief. Maybe then, will her pastries look like something other than mushy kind of bread that has stayed in the fridge for too long.

With a newfound energy, she stands up from her stool and gathers her hair up in a ponytail, before setting off to bake more pastries.