Ding Hanbai almost sprayed a mouthful of food all over the round table. The consequence of forcefully holding it in was choking. He started to cough, starting small and growing louder, gradually becoming violent until it felt like he was about to cough up a lung.

The others had no time to ponder Ji Shenyu's situation. Jiang Shuliu poured water, Jiang Caiwei patted his back, and Ding Yanshou, startled, stopped his scolding. All their attention was focused on Ding Hanbai.

Although Ding Hanbai was coughing hard enough to shake heaven and earth, his gaze remained as steady as Mount Tai on Ji Shenyu, holding a gloating smile mixed with an indescribable fascination. This Little Southern Barbarian was too interesting; he had actually taken it seriously and done as he was told. He slowly calmed down, wiped his mouth, took a gulp of hot tea, and spat out two words—"Idiot."

Ji Shenyu sat back down, buried his head in his bowl, and ate the jujube rice until not a single grain was left. He had been hungry for too long and wanted another bowl, but his master and madam's expressions were so solemn that he held back.

Jiang Caiwei felt a pain in her calf and turned her head to look at Ding Hanbai.

Ding Hanbai jutted his chin towards Ji Shenyu, signaling with his eyes.

Jiang Caiwei understood. Without another word, she passed her own bowl over and said deliberately, "Shenyu, go get another bowl. While you're at it, get some for me too."

Seeing her wink at him, Ji Shenyu immediately understood. He went to get another bowl and returned, a warmth spreading through his chest. The rice tasted even sweeter. It was like that time with the woven gloves, and it was the same now. The consideration Jiang Caiwei showed him was like receiving charcoal in a snowstorm; he was so grateful... to the point that he felt unworthy of it.

The soup and dishes were finished, and one by one, they all put down their chopsticks.

The two elders had been away for a week. Although they weren't exactly travel-worn, their energy was limited, so they didn't continue to lecture the younger generation. As for Ding Hanbai, he was exhausted from a day of wandering around. He didn't care whether he had made a mistake or not; he just put down his chopsticks and went back to sleep.

Ji Shenyu followed close behind, only completely relaxing when he returned to the small courtyard where he lived. He stepped on Ding Hanbai's shadow as he climbed the steps. Ding Hanbai's shadow disappeared, and Ding Hanbai himself walked away without pausing.

He was still holding the other's jacket, intending to wash it before returning it.

Ji Shenyu didn't close his door. He sat at the table, listening for any sounds. He heard Ding Hanbai run off to take a shower, and then heard him run back after he was done. He timed it just right and went out to block his path.

Ding Hanbai was steaming, damp and fresh. Remembering how Ji Shenyu had flicked water all over him with his dangling feet, he moved closer and imitated Old Huang from Jiang Ting'en's family, shaking his head back and forth, sending water droplets flying everywhere.

Dizzy from the shaking, he frowned and asked, "Why are you blocking the way?"

Ji Shenyu said, "Senior Brother, why did you take the blame for me? It was because I wanted to learn to drive that—"

Ding Hanbai interrupted, "I still had to be the one to let you learn. They were going to yell at me either way, so one less person getting yelled at is a win."

Ji Shenyu looked at Ding Hanbai. 'Is Ding Hanbai's attitude towards me really "one less person getting yelled at is a win"?' he thought. 'Shouldn't it be "I can't be the only one getting yelled at"?'

Ding Hanbai started to sweat under his stare. "Is there anything else? I'm sleepy."

He didn't even wait for a reply and walked around Ji Shenyu back to his room, bumping into his shoulder in his haste. If his thoughts had been a condensed ball, that light bump, plus the few steps to his bedroom, would have been enough to scatter them.

Ding Hanbai was already lying in bed, his scattered thoughts in disarray. Here was a fragment of Ji Shenyu's gaze, there was a fragment of Ji Shenyu calling himself an idiot. They drifted everywhere, difficult to piece together.

Not only were they scattered, they were a mess.

Ding Hanbai closed his eyes and reached out to turn off the lamp, but his fingers touched the tassel on the edge of the lampshade and lingered. The fringe tickled his fingertips, like an electric current, zinging and zinging all the way from his fingertip to the tip of his heart.

He sat up abruptly, suspecting he'd caught some kind of illness. Only after putting a ginseng candy in his mouth did he fall into a deep sleep.

When Ji Shenyu returned from his shower and looked towards the room next door, it was already completely dark. His emotions had been on a rollercoaster today, and he was utterly exhausted, but he forced himself to stay awake, pick up the aluminum kettle, and fill it with water to water the roses that were beginning to wilt.

When drinking water, one shouldn't forget the one who dug the well. When watering flowers, one naturally thinks of the one who planted them. So he couldn't help but glance towards the bedroom again.

'It's so dark. What is Ding Hanbai dreaming about?' he thought.

The night was quiet. Ding Hanbai didn't dream at all. It was only after dawn that he dreamed of some intermittent images, hazy and indistinct, that even the chiming of the Western Clock couldn't wake him from.

He had always been a heavy sleeper; it was common for him to wake up only when the sun was high in the sky.

But the Western Clock wasn't forceful enough. Five minutes later, a living person arrived. Ding Hanbai was wrapped in his quilt, immersed in a dream like Zhuangzi's butterfly, when a sudden pain shot through his left ear. A large, calloused hand was pinching and twisting it, the pain forcing his eyes wide open.

"Dad?"

Ding Yanshou said, "Still daring to sleep in? Get your ass up and go get the car fixed for me!"

Ding Hanbai clung to the edge of the bed with a sigh, eyes half-closed in a last-ditch resistance. After some struggling, he finally succumbed to Ding Yanshou's iron fist. He had no choice but to change his clothes and go out. He wasn't even given breakfast, and when he started the broken-down car, his stomach rumbled along with it.

He dumped the car at the repair shop. Ding Hanbai never lingered; the smell of gasoline and diesel inside was awful, and the machine parts were filthy. He always paid and left immediately. But he wasn't planning on going home, where he would be nagged by Jiang Shuliu, nor was he going to Jade Pavilion, where running into Ding Yanshou would be like walking straight into the line of fire.

He hailed a cab and headed straight for the World Trade Department Store.

Having lost a jacket, he had to buy a new one.

Back at home, Ji Shenyu was already awake. Well-rested, he lazed in bed, unwilling to move, savoring the comical and thrilling events of the previous day, a slow smile spreading across his face. He turned his head and caught sight of the jacket draped over the back of a chair. He wasn't lazy anymore; he rolled out of bed nimbly.

It wasn't worth using the washing machine for just one item. Ji Shenyu sat in front of a basin and scrubbed it by hand. After washing it clean, he hung it up to dry, planning to return it to its rightful owner in perfect condition once it was dry.

Unfortunately, the owner of the "perfect object" was already wearing new clothes. While trying on a light jacket, he threw it over his shoulders, and the movement of stretching his arms pulled at his back muscles, causing a dense, lingering pain. He reached back and felt a patch of swollen skin.

Yesterday's bump had been quite severe; it had swollen up even though there wasn't much flesh on his back. Ding Hanbai felt very sorry for himself, so he took out his wallet and bought another shirt.

He enjoyed himself alone, leaving the department store and heading to Culture Street near Peace Square. Although it was called Culture Street, it was actually another Antiques Market. Because it was the largest and had the most tourists, it had been planned out by the Cultural Relics Bureau and the municipal government and given the fancy name Culture Street.

With things like antiques, a bigger market wasn't necessarily better; it might just mean there were more fakes. Ding Hanbai strolled around, popping into every shop. If he saw any decent objects, he would buy them without asking the price.

Further in, scattered stalls appeared. He stopped and stared at an old man wearing sunglasses.

Zhang Sinian looked from side to side, then turned his head and saw him too, before turning back as if nothing had happened. Ding Hanbai slowly approached, stopping one stall away, and glanced at the object in Zhang Sinian's hands.

A Famille-rose Gourd Vase with a hundred butterflies fluttering their wings on its glazed surface. It used to sit on the windowsill of the inner room.

A man stopped to look. The way he rubbed it in several places showed he was an expert. He spoke with Zhang Sinian in a low voice, and after a few sentences, he put the vase down and left. They hadn't reached an agreement. Not many deals were closed on the first try; both sides had to play hard to get.

Ding Hanbai walked past Zhang Sinian, wandered to the end of the street, and then turned back. The man from before was a meter ahead of him, and sure enough, he had stopped at Zhang Sinian's stall again. At the same time, an old man also stopped. Two customers, one seller—it had become a seller's market.

Zhang Sinian said, "This piece should be part of a pair, but now there's only one."

Not being a pair would inevitably lower the price, but he could tell the customer was an expert, so revealing this voluntarily added a touch of sincerity. The man looked at it again and again, then leaned in for a sniff and quickly recoiled. "What is that smell?"

Zhang Sinian was evasive, "Old things don't smell good."

Ding Hanbai snorted with laughter at the next stall. The Hundred Longevity Vase had been used to hold pickled tofu; who knew what kind of unidentified liquid that gourd vase had held. It was too tiring to watch from the corner of his eye, so he decided to join the fun and asked directly, "Mister, what era is this from?"

Zhang Sinian replied, "Republic of China Era."

He pretended to examine it randomly. "The mark says it was made in the Qianlong reign. So it's a copy made during the Republic of China Era."

Zhang Sinian gave a dry laugh, ready to deal with him, ignoring the other two. Since he wanted to sell it, it was obviously for the money. Ding Hanbai's "dumb rich kid" appearance was so endearing; any seller would treasure him.

Ding Hanbai turned his head and asked the other old man, "Mister, do you think this thing is legit?"

The old man asked back, "You don't know yourself?"

He shook his head. "I'm so young, how would I know about this stuff? I just want to buy it because it looks nice." He turned to ask the other man, "Big Brother, what do you think?"

The man said, "It was originally a pair. There's not much point in you buying just one, and the potential for appreciation isn't great either."

He had looked, left, and then come back. He was an expert who recognized it was authentic, and yet he was advising against buying it. Ding Hanbai knew this "Big Brother" was tempted. He kept holding it, as if reluctant to let go, and asked for the price.

He and Zhang Sinian put on a little show, but in the end, the deal wasn't made, and he put the vase down and left. He wandered around, even went to Peace Square to feed the pigeons for a while, and when he returned, Zhang Sinian's hands were already empty.

"Mister, did you sell the gourd vase?"

"Sold. Forty thousand."

"A pair is only worth forty or fifty thousand. That guy was actually willing to pay?"

"He has the other one at home. Putting them together as a pair will increase their value significantly, so of course he was willing."

If the man had revealed he had the other one at home, his intentions would have been clearly understood by the seller, which would have been disadvantageous for haggling down the price. So the man definitely hadn't told Zhang Sinian. Ding Hanbai asked Zhang Sinian how he knew, only to see the other man give a slight smile and kick him.

"Apprentice," the old man said. "We don't just look at objects, we have to look at people too. You can memorize tens of thousands of objects, but you also can't forget the various people you meet."

Two years ago, Zhang Sinian had sold the other gourd vase, and the buyer was that very same man.

He slung an arm around Ding Hanbai and started walking away. "Thanks for your hard work as a shill. Come on, let's go find a jar for pickling sweet garlic."

Ding Hanbai played until dark before going home. He had bought clothes and eaten at a restaurant. He skirted around the screen wall, sneaking along the edge, trying not to disturb his parents in the large living room. He crept back to the small courtyard. The Lucky Bamboo was full of life, while the patch of roses was barely hanging on. He gave it a cold glance and had no other thoughts.

Anyway, he had already gotten the seal back. He didn't care at all.

As he went up the steps, the ajar door suddenly opened. Ji Shenyu had timed it again to intercept him. "Senior Brother, you're back." Ji Shenyu presented the folded, dry jacket. "I've washed it. For you."

Ding Hanbai said, "I don't want it anymore."

Ji Shenyu confirmed, "Not even if it's clean?"

Ding Hanbai replied, "A foot-wiping cloth is still a foot-wiping cloth even when it's clean. I've already bought a new one."

After speaking, the other went back to his room. Ji Shenyu had no choice but to take the jacket back again. The size didn't fit, so he couldn't wear it, but it was brand new. If he threw it away, he would definitely be scolded as a spendthrift. After a moment of silence, he put it away in his wardrobe. 'I'll just keep it for now,' he thought.

The wardrobe door closed, and the room door opened.

Ding Hanbai came in holding medicinal wine, with the air of a lord. "Come on, repay a favor."

He sat backward on a chair and unbuttoned his shirt unhurriedly from top to bottom, his chest the first to see the light. He took off the shirt, folded his arms over the back of the chair, and rested his chin on his forearms, waiting to be served.

Ji Shenyu only remembered that yesterday's collision had been loud, but he hadn't expected the swelling and bruising to be so severe. He poured the medicinal wine into his palm, rubbed his hands together to warm it, and then gently covered the area. Curling his fingers, he used his palm to slowly rub in the wine.

He asked, "Senior Brother, does it hurt?"

Ding Hanbai squinted in comfort. "It's alright."

A warm palm roamed over his back, the pressure varying from light to heavy, a mixture of pain and pleasure. Ji Shenyu poured a little more, rubbing below the other's shoulder blade, then moved a little, rubbing near his ribs.

Unexpectedly, Ding Hanbai shot to his feet. "I told you to rub the bruise, why are you rubbing my ticklish spot?"

Ji Shenyu said in a small voice, "How was I supposed to know your ticklish spot was there?"

What he expected even less was for Ding Hanbai to suddenly pounce on him. His elbow was brushed aside as a hand went straight for his underarm. His hands were wet and he held them out awkwardly, unable to resist. He stumbled backward and fell onto the bed.

"What are you dodging for? Is your ticklish spot there too?" Ding Hanbai, enjoying the bullying, made Ji Shenyu curl up his body, squirming until his hair was a mess. "You talk back to me all day. Are you going to behave or not?"

Ji Shenyu nodded repeatedly. The torture stopped. He spread his hands out, palms up, on either side of his head. Lying on his back, he looked at Ding Hanbai, who was half-kneeling on the bed, looking back at him.

He found that gaze a little unbearable, even though it was calm and placid, showing no emotion.

Ding Hanbai asked, "Why are you blushing?"

Ji Shenyu retorted, "Am I not allowed to blush either?"

It wasn't the first time Ding Hanbai had been rebuffed. His gaze shifted to those hands, and he recalled the feeling of having his shoulders and back rubbed just now. He forgot the pain, his mind focused on probing, "You seem to have said you can't get calluses. Why?"

Ji Shenyu was once again caught off guard. He racked his brain for a decent reason, or even one that wasn't so decent, as long as it could change the subject. However, his pondering only increased Ding Hanbai's curiosity, who shifted twice while straddling him.

He made something up: "With calluses, it doesn't feel good when you... do it."

Ding Hanbai asked, "Do what?"

Ji Shenyu threw caution to the wind. "What do you think a guy does?"

It was terrifyingly quiet. A word spoken is like spilt water; was it too late for him to take it back? But before he could come to a conclusion in his turmoil, Ding Hanbai's large, calloused hand reached out, gently patting his cheek. Then it paused, the pads of the fingers stroking him back and forth.

Ding Hanbai said with a laugh, "It feels better with calluses. You really are an idiot."

His breath hitched. Ji Shenyu had the illusion that the skin being touched was on fire.

Yet, as if possessed, he didn't want to escape. He didn't turn his head, just kept his face tilted up. When Ding Hanbai had had his fill of toying with him, he left without a word, leaving only the half-bottle of medicinal wine that smelled of bitterness.

A moment later, a figure appeared outside the window. Ji Shenyu sat up and stared blankly. The window opened a crack, and Ding Hanbai threw in a box, saying chivalrously, "Don't ruin your health at such a young age. After you're done, take a ginseng candy."

...So, was this to replenish his kidneys and boost his virility?

...Could it be that he'd misunderstood and thought he was addicted to masturbation?

All the water in Slender West Lake couldn't wash away this injustice. Ji Shenyu was mortified and furious, wishing he could just smash his head against the ground and wail in misery.