The TV was playing an elaborate historical drama about power struggles. As luck would have it, it had reached the iconic scene of an assassination attempt on the emperor.
Shwik, shwik, shwik— Several hidden arrows flew in. The editor had given it a close-up shot.
Xiao Zhi reacted instantly. He yanked the person beside him and shoved her under the coffee table in front of the sofa.
“…” Yun Yi crouched under the coffee table, feeling utterly pathetic, and fumbled with the remote to change the channel. She couldn’t let the emperor have a stress reaction.
Saved. It was a cartoon.
The assassins were gone. That square-shaped curtain had apparently been an illusion. Xiao Zhi was about to ask Yun Yi about it when a brown bear and a light-colored bear appeared in the center of the screen.
“Oh no! Logger Vick is cutting down trees again!”
“Hey, hey, Briar! Wait up!”
Yun Yi crawled out from under the table like the ghost from The Ring. She saw Xiao Zhi sitting down, staring intently at the TV.
Kindly, she explained, “This is a cartoon. A story about two bears.”
What in the world is a cartoon? Xiao Zhi silently absorbed another new word. But Yun Yi’s tone irritated him. Was she patronizing him? Did the Son of Heaven of the Great Yan Dynasty need to be patronized?
“A black bear. Naturally, I know what that is,” he said.
Tch. There he goes, putting on emperor airs again. She’d told him so many times: stop going on about “the Son of Heaven”—people would think he was crazy.
The emperor’s rigid jaw turned slightly away as he snuck glances at the TV from time to time. Yun Yi sighed inwardly. Fine. I’ll humor him.
“You’ve definitely seen black bears. But you’ve definitely never seen a live panda,” she said, forming circles with her fingers and holding them up to her eyes like glasses.
Xiao Zhi remained impassive. “It’s just a giant panda. The clothes I’m wearing came right out of its mouth.”
Yun Yi sat down on the sofa, leaning back to stretch her shoulders. “Well, you’ve definitely never heard of a polar bear—pure white, head to tail.”
Preposterous. There’s no such thing as a pure white bear.
Yun Yi fiddled with the TV box and pulled up another cartoon. This one featured three bears—brown, black-and-white, and pure white—babbling away about something.
“See? Believe me now! One of these days I’ll take you to the zoo. They have all three kinds there.”
Xiao Zhi didn’t respond. Instead, his face went rigid, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on The Three Bear Musketeers playing on the TV.
Ahem. This was an ancient person’s first time watching television. Better keep it wholesome.
She changed the channel. CCTV’s health program was airing a segment on traditional Chinese medical massage.
Finally, Xiao Zhi’s gaze landed on the long black object in Yun Yi’s hand—when she pressed it, the scenes on the illusionary screen changed.
“That thing from earlier… can you go back to it?” Who was Logger Vick? Sounded like the name of some mountain bandit.
“Three-year-olds watch that.”
Xiao Zhi: “…” He’d never watched that when he was three, though.
The TCM massage program was now covering shoulder and back issues. After Yun Yi finished drying his hair, Xiao Zhi gave up on his fixation with Boonie Bears and focused intently on the TV screen instead.
Yun Yi went downstairs with some trepidation. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that the television had survived.
The man on the sofa had let his long, beautiful hair cascade down like a waterfall. From a distance, he looked rather like an exotic noble from an old-school comic.
“This place—how do I get there?” Xiao Zhi pointed at the TV.
Yun Yi explained that it was a television program.
“Then how do you people find a doctor?”
“You go to the hospital.”
Xiao Zhi then asked about the cost of a medical visit.
Yun Yi said, “With health insurance, it’s not too expensive.”
She did her best to explain to the ancient man how the health insurance system worked.
After a long-winded explanation, Yun Yi belatedly realized—who wanted to listen to all this? She was about to change the subject when she realized her listener was actually paying close attention.
Xiao Zhi’s eyes showed approval. “Health insurance is excellent. It solves the problem of common people struggling to afford medical care. What other policies benefit the people?”
“…”
Yun Yi felt a sudden sense of déjà vu—like a minister reporting to the emperor.
She held out her hand. In her palm lay a delicate hair tie.
“Is this for tying up hair?” Xiao Zhi examined the little blue crystal cloud on it.
What else? Use it as handcuffs?
“I designed it myself.” Truly afraid his next word would be “ugly,” Yun Yi put on a stern face. “Just make do with it. I don’t have any hair ribbons with dragon patterns.”
Where was he showing any disdain? He just didn’t know how such a small loop could be used to tie up his hair.
“Ha, you don’t know how to use a hair tie?” Yun Yi felt like she’d discovered a new continent. She was thrilled. Standing behind him, she gathered his hair with one hand and said cheerfully, “I’ll teach you!”
Xiao Zhi felt his hair being bound by her, occasionally combed through by her fingers. He had no choice but to go along with her movements, sitting upright and perfectly still.
The little blue crystal cloud shimmered under the light.
Yun Yi pulled out her phone and snapped a photo in a flash. “Can I borrow your head?”
What? Hand over his actual head to her?
Xiao Zhi turned around and saw, on the box Yun Yi used to communicate across thousands of miles, a bright and clear image of the back of a head.
His back of a head.
He had only ever glimpsed his own back in the dim, yellowish reflection of a bronze mirror held up by a eunuch. The image had never been clear.
And this thing she called a “phone”—it could capture his back this easily?
Yun Yi demonstrated the phone’s camera function. She took pictures of the sofa, the coffee table, the bottles of Moutai in the liquor cabinet…
Then, almost unconsciously, she suddenly flipped the camera around. The screen framed both of them together.
Xiao Zhi blinked. For the first time in his life, he saw a clear image of “himself.”
Yun Yi: “One, two, three, eggplants!”
“?”
“Say it, dummy.”
Click.
She was beaming, radiant as a flower. The man beside her wasn’t so lucky—he managed to squeeze out an eggplant-like smile.
Yun Yi was perfectly happy with the photo. She didn’t care whether anyone else looked good in it—only that she did.
With Xiao Zhi’s permission, Yun Yi posted that back-of-the-head shot on Little Red Book and casually added a pre-sale link for a three-piece set of her newest hair tie design.
The comments section on Little Red Book:
[OMG that hair! Did the OP hire an expensive hair model?]
[Yun Yi: A friend’s back-of-the-head makes a guest appearance]
[The OP is a beauty, so her friend must also be a beauty (noted.jpeg)]
[Yun Yi: What if I’m actually Qiao Biluo?]
[No way!]
Alright, alright. Yun Yi glanced at Xiao Zhi. He was spinning the globe with those long, slender fingers of his, seemingly lost in thought about something.
She snapped back to the present and realized something was wrong. She had just posted the pre-sale link, and five minutes later, sales had already broken three hundred!
She was stunned. Her carefully designed cultural creative products had always been lukewarm, yet a hair tie she’d tossed up on a whim was selling like crazy?
Xiao Zhi looked up and saw a reddish-brown punching bag in the living room. Yun Yi was sprawled over it, looking utterly defeated.
“What’s wrong?”
Yun Yi looked miserable. “Our hair ties are selling like crazy.”
After some effort to decipher her words, Xiao Zhi asked, “You mean… you’re in business?”
In the Yan Dynasty, merchants held low status. He hadn’t expected that a thousand years later, this was the trade she’d be in.
Remembering that he liked mangoes, Yun Yi handed him a snack. “Dried mango. Want some?”
“No, you eat it. You need it more than I do.”
He had eaten so much of her food already—it must have cost her a fair amount of silver. Thinking of her hawking hair ties so hard, earning every penny through sheer toil, Xiao Zhi’s gaze grew shadowed. He looked at her again and again.
Hah. The emperor sure is hard to please. Yun Yi bit into a piece of dried mango and quickly placed an order with the factory.
The night passed without incident.
In a haze, Yun Yi heard a rustling sound from the backyard. She got up and walked out to the balcony.
In the backyard stood a man wearing a hoodie, the hood pulled up. His body leaned back as his sword traced a dazzling, eye-catching arc. In slow motion, after loosening up his limbs, he struck a pose with the sword that an ordinary person couldn’t possibly pull off.
The hood fell back with gravity, revealing the sharp, chiseled lines of his profile.
The scene froze.
Yun Yi rubbed her eyes.
Standing beyond the railing on Yun Xi’s balcony, Xiao Zhi asked her if he could practice his swordplay in her backyard tomorrow morning. Yun Yi said he was welcome.
The figure in the backyard leaped into the air, meeting the rising sun. The sword sliced through the air, stirring up a gust of wind—
Xiao Zhi’s sword pointed directly at the pair of eyes on the balcony.
“Morning,” Yun Yi waved at him. Amazing. You’re doing sword flourishes, I’m doing fancy hand dances—we’re both successors to the socialist cause.
Xiao Zhi put away his sword. “This blade isn’t sharpened—its energy is weak. I do have some fine swords back in the palace. When the time comes, you may pick whichever you like.” Then, thinking of her family’s strained circumstances, he hated himself for saying too much.
Her family is this poor—where would she find the money to buy a decent sword? With her meager income, just getting by is already hard enough. Why bring up buying swords and weak sword energy?
Yun Yi quickly said, “That’s my brother’s…” Star Wars lightsaber.
Xiao Zhi said earnestly, “I have an iron sword forged by a master craftsman. I shall gift it to your brother.”
Yun Yi was at a loss.
—
The factory contact said the production schedule was pushed to the middle of next month.
Her crossbody bag order from last time still hadn’t shipped. Yun Yi couldn’t wait that long. She glanced at Xiao Zhi, tilted her head, and said, “Come on a business trip with me?”
Xiao Zhi didn’t understand the words, but he’d just follow.
It was a rushed trip where even breakfast had to be eaten on the road.
The Porsche pulled into the McDonald’s drive-through. The window rolled down slowly. Yun Yi stretched her arm out—ouch—the shoulder blade she’d slept on was getting more and more painful.
“Does it hurt a lot?” Xiao Zhi took the food bag from her hand and looked at her shoulder.
Thinking of her injury, his gaze darkened.
Yun Yi once again rejected Xiao Zhi’s suggestion to “summon a doctor.” “Work comes first.”
He pressed his lips together and said no more.
The car slowly merged into the morning rush hour traffic.
A mother bird chattered incessantly, teaching her chicks how to forage.
“That’s a hamburger. Try it. Hey—don’t eat the wrapper.”
“You won’t drink the cola? I swear it’s not poisonous… That’s carbonation!”
Xiao Zhi ate with refined manners, but his expression wasn’t as appreciative as when he’d eaten instant noodles the night before. Could McDonald’s not win over an ancient person’s heart?
“Next time I’ll take you to a snack street.”
Xiao Zhi was silent for a moment.
The honking of horns on the street whooshed past.
“What kind of car is that?” The vehicle was spacious with a sturdy chassis—far more imposing than the little compact Yun Yi was driving.
“An ambulance.” Yun Yi pointed to the sign for “City No. 1 Hospital” not far away. “Someone has a medical emergency. You dial 120, give the address, and the ambulance takes the patient there.”
“I see.” Xiao Zhi noticed a special symbol at the base of the hospital building, the same one on the ambulance. He asked, “That red symbol—does it stand for hospital?”
“Pretty sharp.”
They continued driving and finally reached the factory on the outskirts at ten in the morning.
“Is Mr. Wu around?” Yun Yi couldn’t find anyone and had to ask around. Someone said Mr. Wu was in the workshop.
Yun Yi led Xiao Zhi along, muttering indignantly, “Hmph, brushing me off. We agreed on ten o’clock, and he didn’t even wait for me.”
Mr. Wu was the factory manager. The factory had originally only taken foreign trade orders, but orders had plummeted in recent years. Mr. Wu made the call: the factory had to save itself—not only by taking large orders but also small ones from domestic individual clients.
Yun Yi was the most insignificant grain of sand among countless small clients.
The two reached the workshop entrance. Yun Yi pursed her lips and gestured. Xiao Zhi followed her gaze. A short man was picking up a badge from the production line, holding it up to a fluorescent light to check the surface’s shimmer.
That must be “Mr. Wu.”
At that moment, Mr. Wu felt a faint, inexplicable tingling on his scalp. Is it the workshop noise? He put down the badge and vaguely noticed a man and a woman standing at the workshop entrance. He couldn’t make out their features, but he felt a fierce, hostile gaze stabbing toward him like a knife.
Mr. Wu was bewildered. The factory doesn’t owe anyone money.
Yun Yi called out, “Mr. Wu.”
Only then did Mr. Wu realize—it was that small-time influencer. He hadn’t expected her to actually come to the factory.
He hadn’t planned to take her seriously. He was about to grab a salesperson to fob her off when the man beside the influencer spoke with clear displeasure: “This young lady has matters to ask you. Where are your manners?”
For no reason, Mr. Wu’s heart gave a jolt. This tone—this man sounds more like a boss than my own potbellied boss.
Left with no choice, he braced himself and, together with a salesperson, received this client whose order quantity was very, very small.
“Little Yun, hello.” He extended his hand.
Yun Yi was about to shake it when Xiao Zhi stepped forward first and firmly grasped Mr. Wu’s palm.
Mr. Wu felt the scorching heat of the other man’s palm, a subtle pressure bearing down on his hand. He tried to pull back but couldn’t. A numb, painful sensation crept up his fingertips, forcing him to treat the situation with seriousness.
“…” Mr. Wu was drenched in sweat. He looked desperately at Yun Yi. “Boss Yun—how should I address your friend?”
“His surname is Xiao.”
“…Hello, Boss Xiao!”
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