"Xin Xin! Go pick the apples from the Yu family—we need them for the pie!” Grandma Xin shouted.

Still half-asleep from her afternoon nap, Xin Yue dragged her tiny body toward the Yu family’s backyard. Her stomach growled. She whispered to herself, “Maybe Mister Yu will give me snacks… Grandma only lets me eat two buns.”

“Mister Yu, I’m here to pick the apples,” she said with her sweetest smile.

“Come here, Xin Xin. Eat something first before you leave. My son brought meat buns.”

Xin Xin’s eyes sparkled. “Can I really eat all of these?”

Mister Yu chuckled softly, wiping a crumb off her cheek like she was his own grandchild. “Eat as much as you want.”

Xin Xin happily stuffed her cheeks like a tiny squirrel. Mid-bite, she felt someone watching her. She turned and saw a small boy peeking from behind the door frame, holding a wooden toy dragon.

Startled, she choked on her bun. The boy panicked, grabbed a cup of water, and rushed over with wide, frantic eyes.

“T-thank you…” Xin Xin croaked, tears forming.

“Why are you in Mister Yu’s kitchen?” she whispered quickly. “He’ll be angry! He hates it when people enter without permission. Go now! If you're hungry, I’ll give you buns—just run for your life!”

The boy stared at her, confused but amused. He smiled.

“Don’t smile! Come, come! Before the kitchen ghosts see us!” Xin Xin grabbed his arm dramatically and pulled him outside. He didn’t resist at all, still holding his wooden dragon.

They hid behind the bushes in the backyard. The boy blinked slowly, unsure why he was crouching there.

“Hey! What are you two doing—wait… Yu Han???”

A girl on the balcony screamed. Yu Mei’s eyes went wide. Seeing her younger brother with a stranger, she bolted down the stairs.

“Mom! Dad! Yu Han is being dragged away by strangers!!”

The entire household panicked. Even Mister Yu hurried outside. They found Xin Xin pushing Yu Han into an empty apple crate, desperately whispering, “Hide before Mister Yu sees you!”

“Yu Han!” his mother cried.

“What are you doing to our son?!” Father Yu shouted.

It was the first time anyone had ever yelled at Xin Xin. She froze, trembling. Tears poured down her little face.

Yu Han panicked and rushed to her side. Mister Yu stepped forward immediately. “Stop shouting at her! Can’t you see she’s terrified?”

Yu Han gently placed his wooden dragon in Xin Xin’s hands. “It’s okay… I wasn’t kidnapped.”

Mother and Father Yu exchanged guilty looks. Yu Mei quietly tiptoed away, pretending she had nothing to do with the chaos.

The Yu family helped carry the apples and walked Xin Xin home. Grandma Xin scolded Mister Yu the moment she saw Xin Xin’s red eyes, but softened when she learned the whole story.

As they left, Yu Han called out, “Come back tomorrow! Show me around the village!”

“I’ll go too!” Yu Mei shouted from behind him.

Xin Xin hugged the wooden dragon to her chest and smiled. “Okay… I’ll sleep early tonight.”

Little Xin Xin, Yu Han, and Yu Mei went to the riverbank to play. The water sparkled under the sunlight, and Xin Xin proudly showed them how people in the village tried to catch fish.

“You have to be quiet… super quiet,” she whispered, tiptoeing to the edge.

Yu Han copied her exaggerated steps. “Like this?”

“No, no! You’re stepping too loud!” Xin Xin scolded softly.

“But there’s water everywhere. The fish already know we’re here,” Yu Mei said, laughing as she poked Yu Han’s back with a stick.

They didn’t catch a single fish, but their laughter echoed across the river like tiny bells. After a while, they settled under the old apple tree to rest and eat.

“Why haven’t I seen you guys before?” Xin Xin asked as she munched on an apple.

“We live in the city,” Yu Mei answered proudly, brushing the dirt off her skirt.

“Wow!” Xin Xin’s eyes widened. “The real city?”

Yu Han raised an eyebrow. “Is there a fake one?”

“I’ve never been to a city before,” Xin Xin admitted. “But Grandma said she’ll take me someday, when I’m big enough.”

She puffed her chest out proudly.

Yu Han laughed. “But it will take a long time! You’re still small… small like three apples stacked together!”

Yu Mei burst into laughter and rolled on the grass.

“Hahaha! Three apples! That’s exactly you!”

Xin Xin stood and put her fists on her hips. “Mr. Yu Han, you may be taller than me a little, but I’ll sleep a lot and grow bigger than you, just watch!”

“Really?” Yu Han teased with a smug smile.

“You two are fighting when you can’t even reach my height,” Yu Mei said, flicking both their foreheads before laughing even harder.

That started a playful attack. Xin Xin and Yu Han pounced on Yu Mei, and the three of them rolled across the grass, shouting and laughing until their stomachs hurt.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky orange, the three sat again by the trunk of the old apple tree.

“Let’s carve our names,” Yu Han suggested.

They scratched their names into the bark, giggling at how crooked Yu Han’s letters were.

Days turned into weeks, and they grew closer. Xin Xin taught them how to climb trees, how to skip stones, and which flowers smelled the sweetest. In return, Yu Han and Yu Mei told her about city lights, tall buildings, and buses as big as whales.

One afternoon, Yu Han blurted out, “Xin Xin, why don’t you come with us to the city and live with us?”

Xin Xin froze. “Really?? I really dream about going to the city!” Her eyes shimmered with excitement, almost teary.

Yu Mei looked away. “Um… but… trust me, Xin Xin… you might not like it once time passes. The city is loud and crowded. It’s peaceful here in the village. I’m always dreaming about coming back.”

Xin Xin’s shoulders drooped. “Really…?” she whispered sadly.

Yu Han put an arm around her.

“Don’t listen to that monkey. Monkeys lie sometimes.”

Yu Mei’s face turned red instantly. “WHAT did you call me!?”

Yu Han jumped up and ran. “A monkeyyyy!”

“Come back here!” Yu Mei shouted, sprinting after him.

Xin Xin rolled on the ground clutching her belly, laughing so hard tears came out of her eyes.

When they finally settled down again, breathing hard, Yu Mei lay on the grass and whispered, “Even if you don’t come to the city… we’ll always come back here. For you.”

Xin Xin smiled, her cheeks warm.

“And the old apple tree will remember us forever.”

The wind felt different that morning—quieter, heavier, as if even the trees knew something was about to change. Xin Xin stood by the riverbank where they used to play, her hands clasped behind her back. Yu Han and Yu Mei were unusually silent beside her.

“Xin Xin…” Yu Mei finally whispered, “we’re going back to the city.”

Xin Xin blinked. “Back? Today?”

Yu Han nodded slowly. “Father said we have to continue our studies. School in the city starts next week.”

The world felt like it tilted. Xin Xin stared at the water, her chest tightening.

“But… but we still have so many things to do! We haven’t tried catching fish again… and we haven’t climbed the big pine tree… and—”

Yu Han stepped closer and placed a hand on her head. “Hey… we’ll be back. Next summer. I promise.”

Yu Mei crouched and took Xin Xin’s hands. “We’re not leaving forever. And we’ll write you letters. Lots of them.”

“Letters?” Xin Xin looked up, eyes already glistening.

“Of course,” Yu Mei smiled warmly. “Every month. Maybe even every week if Father lets us buy more stamps.”

“And you’ll read mine too,” Yu Han said. “So you better practice writing nicely.”

Xin Xin tried to laugh, but her voice cracked. “I’ll write! I’ll write super fast!”

Yu Mei pulled her into a tight hug, and Xin Xin held her even tighter.

“Don’t cry,” Yu Mei whispered. “If you cry, I’ll cry too.”

Yu Han joined the hug, his voice soft. “The old apple tree will keep our names safe until we come back.”

That was the moment Xin Xin couldn’t hold it anymore. Tears slipped down her cheeks silently as she pressed her face into Yu Han’s sleeve.

“I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered.

“And we’ll miss you even more,” Yu Han said.

They walked her home slowly, step by step, as if dragging time so it wouldn’t run away. Grandma Xin stood by the gate, smiling gently.

“So, today’s the day?” she asked kindly.

Yu Han and Yu Mei bowed politely. “Yes, Grandma Xin. Thank you for welcoming us this summer.”

“You’re always welcome,” she said. “Come back anytime.”

Before they left, Yu Han turned around one last time.

“Xin Xin! Wait for our letters!”

“I will!” Xin Xin shouted. “I promise I’ll wait!”

Then they were gone—walking down the dusty road with their father, waving until they became small shapes, then shadows, then nothing.

That night, Xin Xin cried quietly into Grandma’s shoulder until she fell asleep.

Days passed. Then weeks.

Summer faded into the cool winds of early autumn.

Xin Xin helped Grandma pick apples from the orchard every morning. She carried baskets twice her size and always ended up with leaves in her hair. Sometimes she giggled. Sometimes she looked toward the road where Yu Han and Yu Mei had disappeared.

Every few days, she walked to Mister Yu’s house—their family’s empty summer home—just to check the mailbox.

“Maybe today…” she whispered each time, tiptoeing to look inside.

One afternoon, when the sunlight turned golden and soft, she opened the mailbox and gasped.

A letter.

A real letter.

With messy handwriting that could only belong to Yu Han.

She ran home so fast she almost tripped twice.

“Grandma! Grandma! They wrote! They wrote!” she screamed breathlessly.

Grandma Xin laughed and helped her open it. Xin Xin read every word aloud—Yu Han’s silly stories, Yu Mei’s doodles, the little notes squished into the corners of the paper. She hugged the letter to her chest like treasure.

From then on, letters came regularly. Sometimes one, sometimes two… sometimes a drawing of the city so messy she had to ask, “Is this a building or a sandwich?”

And Xin Xin always wrote back—carefully, slowly, trying her best to spell every word perfectly.

In the little village school, she studied harder than ever.

She sat in the front row, raised her hand often, and practiced her writing every night.

“Someday…” she whispered to herself, staring at the glowing lamp-light on her desk.

“Someday I’ll go to the city… and I’ll find them again.”

And under the old apple tree, their names remained carved side by side—waiting patiently for the next summer, for laughter to return, and for three children to be together again.