CHIIDOU’S STORY

关于「其多」

小时候，大人总说：

“别总说明天，明日何其多。”

 

长大后，我却偷偷给梦想取了个名字，

就叫——其多。

 

我有两个一直没变的梦想：

一个是拥有一只属于自己的金毛，陪伴它、让它幸福地长大；

另一个，是开一家自己的面包店，因为从小就爱吃面包。

 

「其多」是我很早就想好给小狗起的名字。

一开始的原因很简单，

因为我姓何，于是便有了：何其多。

 

有人说，有姓氏的小狗，下辈子会投胎做人。

但我更愿意相信，

有了姓氏的小狗，不论下辈子会不会成为人类，都一定还会继续幸福快乐。

 

后来，当我终于开了一家面包店，

我还是给它取名叫「其多」。

不是因为懒得取名字，

而是觉得：如果愿望足够真诚，

或许可以用一个名字，去装下两个梦。

 

我曾担心，梦想会被一个又一个“明日”淹没，

但「其多」教会我：每一个明天，若用心去迎接，就不只是空等。

是一步步靠近，是烤箱里慢慢膨胀的面包，

是门口奔来的狗狗，热情地摇着尾巴，

是生活酵母发出的温柔回应。

 

「其多」不再是感叹，

而是我对未来的回应。

愿你我的明天，不再虚耗，而是生香——一多接一多。

 

于是，我拥有了这家 home bakery。

等面包，也等狗；

等一个个值得期待的日子，

从“明天”变成“现在”。

 

欢迎光临，其多。

 

 

About ChiiDou

When I was a kid, my parents would often say:
“Don’t keep waiting for tomorrow — there are far too many tomorrows.”

But as I grew up, I quietly gave my dreams a name:
ChiiDou.

I have two dreams that have never changed:
One is to have a Golden Retriever,
to accompany it and watch it grow happily;
The other is to open my own bakery,
because I have loved eating bread since I was a child.

“ChiiDou” was the name I decided on for my dog long ago.
The reason was simple at first:
because my family name is He (何),
so it became 何其多 (ChiiDou) — meaning “How many tomorrows!”

The phrase “How many tomorrows!” comes from an ancient Chinese poem that warns us about the endless postponement of today’s tasks to the future.
It’s both a sigh and a call to action — a reminder that while tomorrows may seem countless, they can easily slip away if we keep putting off our dreams.

To me, “ChiiDou” captures this bittersweet feeling:
an acknowledgment of time’s abundance,
and a challenge to make every tomorrow count.

They say dogs with surnames will be reborn as humans in their next life.
But I prefer to believe that, whether they become human or not,
dogs with surnames will surely live happily and joyfully in their next life as well.

Later, when I finally opened my home bakery,
I still named it "ChiiDou”
Not because I was too lazy to think of another name,
but because I felt: if wishes are sincere enough,
maybe one name can hold two dreams.

I once worried my dreams would be drowned
by one tomorrow after another.
But “ChiiDou” taught me that if you greet each other tomorrow with care, it’s not just empty waiting.
It’s stepping closer — like dough slowly rising in the oven,
like a dog running to the door, wagging its tail with joy,
like the gentle response of life’s yeast.

“ChiiDou” is no longer a sigh,
but my response to the future.
May my tomorrows no longer be wasted,
but rise warmly — one “dou” after another.

So here I have my home bakery.
Waiting for bread, and waiting for the dog;
waiting for every day to looking forward to,
turning “tomorrow” into “now.”

Welcome to ChiiDou.