Three plates of crayfish—one steamed, one spicy, one iced huadiao—were polished off in the blink of an eye. Not only that, the young master, who had a knack for discovering deliciousness, also asked the server to add a portion of noodles. He didn’t even let the crayfish sauce go to waste—he mixed it into cold noodles, split it half and half with Sheng Lin, and they happily devoured it all.
Stuffed and satisfied, the young master finally decided it was time to head home.
Before leaving for Rongcheng, Xia Yiyang didn’t forget to swing by the front mountain of Mount Qingcheng. He took a few check-in photos at the classic spots from Journey to the West, and together with today’s crayfish fishing pictures, he arranged them into a nine-grid collage and posted it all to his Moments.
It was only then that he noticed the post from yesterday—the one of him eating a cucumber on the rear mountain—had received a ton of comments from friends.
The scenery of Mount Qingcheng was wallpaper-worthy, but not a single person paid attention to the views. All his classmates were asking the same thing: who was the man beside him whose face was covered by a sticker? His physique was absolutely top-tier—broad shoulders, long arms, well-defined muscles, with wheat-colored skin that was both manly and wild. The fact that his face was covered only made people’s imaginations run wild.
Why look at scenery when there’s a handsome man to check out? Mountains are mountains, water is water—they’ve been there for thousands of years and aren’t going anywhere.
But a rare resource like a handsome guy—you only get so many chances to admire one. The ancients said it best: strike while the iron’s hot, don’t wait until the flowers are gone to break the branch.
There was also one comment from Qin Zaozao.
@Jia Wanwan: Little Xia, do I know the person next to you? [Covering mouth with a laugh]
Xia Yiyang: “…”
He usually loved joking around with his classmates in Moments, but he didn’t reply to a single one of these comments.
—No obligation to share, okay?
Before boarding the return bus, Xia Yiyang used his last bit of time to buy a batch of danhonggao (egg pancakes). The soft batter was slightly set, filled with a choice of sweet or savory fillings, then folded in half like a little gold ingot. For sweet, you could pick jam or sugar-coated sesame; for savory, there was pork floss or pickled cowpeas. Sichuan had its own version of soufflé, and anyone who tried it would be in heaven.
The freshly made egg pancakes were piping hot, each packed in a small plastic bag. Xia Yiyang hooked one on each finger, dangling a whole clattering string of them—he looked like he was stocking up for a resale business.
When boarding the bus, the driver caught sight of the bags hooked on the boy’s fingers and joked: “This young fella sure has a big appetite! Eating so much—still growing, huh?”
Xia Yiyang was thin-skinned, so Sheng Lin covered for him: “Half of these are mine—he’s just carrying them for me.”
Once on the bus, Xia Yiyang quickly stuck all ten fingers in front of Sheng Lin and asked: “Brother Lin, do you want the sweet half?” He wiggled his left hand. “Or the savory half?” He wiggled his right.
Sheng Lin didn’t have a preference: “You pick first.”
Xia Yiyang: “Uh…”
Right—asking was pointless. The young master couldn’t choose at all. He was equally fond of sweet and savory, which was why he’d bought so many in the first place, completely forgetting to account for his stomach’s capacity.
Sheng Lin had already guessed his answer and said: “I don’t want the sweet half, and I don’t want the savory half either—I’ll take whatever you can’t finish.”
“!!!” Xia Yiyang felt a little embarrassed. How many times had this happened now? Whatever he couldn’t finish always ended up being Sheng Lin’s job to clean up.
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Sheng Lin said calmly. “Every grain of food comes from hard work. I just don’t want to waste it.”
And so, on the swaying bus, while other passengers dozed off, the unmistakable aroma of egg pancakes wafted from the back row. A few people turned to look, only to see two young men sharing egg pancake after egg pancake—the boy would take a tentative bite, keep the flavors he liked, and toss the ones he didn’t to the man beside him… so intimate that no one could tell if they were brothers or lovers.
The sky gradually darkened, and the bus sped along the straight highway toward home. Looking ahead, the sun hung low by the horizon, waiting for the stars to rise and dusk to settle on the windows. Looking back, clear streams rushed forward, unhindered by the mountains.
Goodbye, Mount Qingcheng.
…
After the long journey, by the time they got back to the ice jelly shop, it was nearly closing time.
They’d both been away for two days, and the two aunties had held down the fort. Even though Sheng Lin had turned off delivery orders before leaving, the dine-in workload had still been considerable. Sheng Lin let the aunties leave an hour early and told them they could come in an hour late tomorrow morning to rest a bit more.
Both aunties were quite happy—and Little Xia had even brought them ginkgo nuts from Mount Qingcheng, which were excellent for stewing with chicken or ribs. Far more meaningful than any ordinary souvenir.
“By the way, no issues with the second-floor wiring, right?” Sheng Lin asked.
“Of course not! With us around, those slick tricks of theirs didn’t stand a chance!” Auntie Zhao planted her hands on her hips and said angrily, “That contractor was smooth-talking all the way. When it came to rewiring, he kept dragging his feet—first this wouldn’t work, then that couldn’t be done. In the end, it was all just an excuse to ask for more money. He didn’t straighten up until Auntie Li and I gave him a piece of our minds.”
Auntie Li chimed in: “And this morning when they installed the AC, he was full of nonsense again—said the load-bearing wall had steel bars that couldn’t be drilled through, said the outdoor unit was hard to install… It dragged on forever before they finished. And after they were done, the place was covered in dust—I had to clean it all up myself!”
“You two worked hard,” Sheng Lin thanked them.
If the aunties hadn’t been in a hurry to get home, they could have gone on complaining for quite a while longer.
After seeing the aunties off, Xia Yiyang helped Sheng Lin clean up the shop and do the closing tasks. Then they locked up, hung the “closed” sign, and headed up to the second floor together.
The ceiling light in the stairwell had been fixed the very day Xia Yiyang moved in, and the creaky stairs had been re-planked. Now the second floor had air conditioning too… Every little thing that had bothered the young master had been quietly taken care of by Sheng Lin without him even noticing.
“Rongcheng is so hot,” Xia Yiyang said, lifting his shirt to fan himself, grumbling. “Just climbing a few stairs and I’m already drenched in sweat. I really miss fishing for crayfish wrapped in a blanket up at Mount Qingcheng.”
“You go take a shower first—I’ll turn on the living room AC so it’s nice and cool by the time you’re done.” Sheng Lin pushed open the second-floor door. “Your clothes from the past two days can go straight into the washing machine—”
Before he could finish, both of them froze—
The bright living room had no air conditioner in sight!
Xia Yiyang searched every corner of the living room: “There are only four walls here—could this be the Emperor’s New Air Conditioner?”
He admitted he could be a little emperor-like sometimes, but did the heavens really have to test his honesty at a moment like this?
The second floor had a simple layout—the living room had two rooms on either side: one was Sheng Lin’s study, the other his bedroom. Before they’d left yesterday, Sheng Lin had pointed at the wall between the bedroom and the living room and told the contractor to install the AC there.
…Wait! Sheng Lin suddenly realized something and quickly walked into his own bedroom. He looked up—and ta-da, the answer was revealed. The Emperor’s New Air Conditioner had indeed been installed in Sheng Lin’s bedroom! And right on the wall between the bedroom and the living room, no less.
It seemed the contractor hadn’t listened carefully to Sheng Lin’s instructions at all. The wall was right, but the direction was wrong—and the supervising aunties hadn’t noticed either.
Then again, who would ever think that Sheng Lin would install an AC in the living room specifically for Xia Yiyang? Everyone had assumed it would go in Sheng Lin’s own bedroom.
Sheng Lin suppressed his anger: “I’ll call the contractor first thing tomorrow and have him move the AC to the living room.”
“No, no, no.” Xia Yiyang quickly stopped him. “Actually… leaving it as is might be fine. After all, you’re the owner of this place, and I’m just a guest crashing in the living room.”
Sheng Lin: “Oh, you’re a guest? I thought you were the little emperor I invited home to rule over me.”
Xia Yiyang pouted: “If I really were an emperor, I’d order you to move out of your bedroom right now and let me live in the AC room.”
“Your Majesty, I’m afraid I can only fulfill half of your command,” Sheng Lin said, playing along with a serious tone and a respectful fist-and-palm salute.
“Which half?”
How was it always half?
Sheng Lin: “You moving in—yes. Me moving out—to be discussed.”
Xia Yiyang pursed his lips: “You’d really make me sleep on the floor?”
“Of course not.”
Xia Yiyang racked his brain for an alternative: “Then how about I do like the Little Dragon Girl—hang a rope in the corner and sleep on that?”
Sheng Lin shook his head: “No need for all that.”
He approached slowly, like a hunter who had long been lying in wait, just to get a closer look at the clever little sparrow that hopped past his window every day, chattering ceaselessly without ever stopping.
“—My bed is a double. It’s more than enough for two adults.”
Xia Yiyang: “…”
The little sparrow on the branch slipped in surprise, barely managing to grip the branch with both claws to keep from falling into a sparrow pancake. It tilted its head, wings hovering hesitantly in midair. No one knew what it would do next—would it flap its wings and fly toward the high sky, or drop into the hunter’s palm?
They stood face to face, gazing at each other. The boy’s lashes fluttered slightly, his expression full of hesitation.
Was he thinking? Was he struggling? Was he weighing his options? Had he sensed the hunter’s intent?
The room fell silent, save for the hum of the air conditioner, its cool breeze sweeping away the last traces of sticky heat from the boy’s skin.
Finally, Xia Yiyang spoke.
“Then… I have one condition.”
“Name it.”
“I want the AC set to eighteen degrees all night long, and I want the thickest blanket.”
Sheng Lin was taken aback: “Just that?”
“Also—you can’t snore, you can’t steal my blanket, you can’t toss and turn all night, and you can’t wake me up when you go for your morning run…” Xia Yiyang counted off the conditions on his fingers—one hand wasn’t enough, so he used the other. “…That’s all for now. I’ll add more when I think of them.”
Sheng Lin’s head was spinning: “Didn’t you just say you only had one condition?”
“Right—the eighteen degrees and thick blanket count as one condition.” Xia Yiyang gave a sly smile. “Everything else is just additional terms.”
“Truly a little emperor from the capital—what a sharp bargainer.” Sheng Lin laughed along. “Looks like just one condition, but it’s cost me both territory and reparations.”
The little emperor pretended not to hear, yawned, and said lazily: “This emperor is weary. You may take your leave. I’ve given you a fine assignment as my personal attendant—no need to be so nervous, my dear minister.”
…
It was just moving from the living room to the bedroom—Xia Yiyang figured that was totally fine.
After all, he already ate Sheng Lin’s food, used his stuff, spent his money… so sleeping in Sheng Lin’s (bed) was only natural, right?
If they could share half an egg pancake on the bus, surely they could share half a double bed.
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