Li Yan hung the towel on the hook and exhaled.
"Goodbye, Uncle Li. See you, Uncle Li~"
The girl with the backpack, munching on a deep-fried dough stick, dashed out of the door in a few brisk steps, her wet hair tangled as she brushed past Li Yan.
"Finish your soy milk, leaving some at the bottom for whom to see?"
Chen Kun yelled.
"I'm going to be late."
The girl, her voice nasal from the rush, was already out of sight.
Li Yan wiped his face with the back of his hand, feeling the prickly stubble. He had just turned twenty-six after the New Year, yet he had heard the title "Uncle Li" plenty of times.
The girl's name was Chen Xinrui, Chen Kun's daughter, thirteen years old. Oh, and Chen Kun is twenty-nine.
"She's getting cheekier."
Chen Kun stretched out the newspaper, muttering under his breath.
"You know, Kun, you're not even thirty yet, am I right? Why do I feel like you've retired early or something?"
Li Yan teased.
