Sheng Lin didn’t return to the shop. Instead, he took the initiative to accompany Xia Yiyang back to the hostel to pack his things.
Just as Sheng Lin had expected, the hostel owner’s expression turned sour the moment he saw Xia Yiyang coming back with a bruised face. That morning, when the police arrived after the call, every guest in the hostel had rushed out to gawk. Soon enough, word that their place had a thief and a scammer spread like wildfire among the guests, dealing a heavy blow to the hostel’s business.
Now that Xia Yiyang was back to pack his things, the owner was practically cheering him on—and immediately refunded the remaining three days’ worth of rent.
“Only three days?” Sheng Lin stood at the front desk. Tall and imposing, his shadow loomed darkly as he stared expressionlessly into the owner’s eyes. “That scammer and thief was a long-term guest here. It was only because Xia Yiyang caught him that the truth came to light. How many other victims haven’t been caught? And besides, the police officer at the station said ‘Wen Sen’ isn’t even his real name—you never even registered his ID.”
The owner broke out in a cold sweat. “Fine, fine, just stop talking. I’ll refund every last cent, alright!”
Under Sheng Lin’s intimidation, the hostel owner, knowing he was in the wrong, surrendered and dutifully coughed up every penny of Xia Yiyang’s accommodation fees.
Sheng Lin counted the cash and stuffed it into the younger boy’s hand. “Keep this safe.”
“Ah…?” Xia Yiyang had been staring blankly at something, snapping back to attention only when Sheng Lin shoved the money into his palm. “Oh, okay.”
Sheng Lin followed his gaze. On the wall beside the front desk was a handwritten poster that read:
“Hostel guests come and go. Don’t overshare with strangers, be cautious about lending money, and don’t accept food or drinks from people you don’t know!”
That was exactly what Xia Yiyang had been staring at.
“Don’t overthink it. It’s all in the past.” Sheng Lin wasn’t great at comforting people, so he simply said, “Go pack your things.”
The eight-bed dorm room Xia Yiyang stayed in was at the end of the hallway—not very large. When they returned, two other people were still resting inside. When they saw Xia Yiyang back to pack, they exchanged a glance with each other and silently slipped out.
Xia Yiyang was in Bed 4. Wen Sen was his upper bunk. Both beds were still a mess. The communal table was tipped over, and the metal locker beside it had a massive dent caved into it.
Returning to the “scene of the crime,” the young master’s previously low spirits inexplicably perked up again.
He bustled about packing his things, chattering nonstop about his heroic deeds, spinning around like a little top without pausing for a moment.
“Wen Sen called me last night to borrow money first, and I said no. When he came back that night, he asked me face-to-face again, and I still refused. That’s when we started arguing. I thought he was so weird—I can’t even remember when I get paid myself, so why did he have it memorized so clearly? Was he really plotting against me?”
Even Sheng Lin’s praise came sparingly: “Not bad. Looks like your IQ finally kicked in for once.”
“Let me repeat myself—I just lack life experience! My IQ has never been offline, okay?!” Xia Yiyang put his hands on his hips. “He didn’t know I had the day off. This morning, I left at my usual work time like I always do—then I doubled back! I caught him red-handed, prying open my locker. I had my laptop, iPad, and Switch gaming console in there. He’d mentioned before that they could sell for a good amount—I thought he was joking back then. I never imagined he’d been eyeing them all along.”
“And then you two started fighting?”
Xia Yiyang huffed. “He was the one who got embarrassed and threw the first punch! I was just acting in self-defense!”
What the young master didn’t mention was that his “self-defense” had packed quite a punch. Thanks to his half-month of “training” at the ice jelly shop—carrying ten-plus-pound watermelons up and down every day—he’d actually built up some muscle. That big dent in the metal locker door? That was from shoving Wen Sen into it.
He was so excited talking about his glorious feats that he forgot about the wound at the corner of his mouth. After just a few words, the pain made him hiss sharply, and he had to shut up and focus on packing properly.
But the silence didn’t last long. In the quiet room, a small voice suddenly emerged: “…And I trusted him so much. I even saved him a bowl of ice jelly every time I brought some back.”
His voice was utterly dejected.
—How could this happen?
This was the young master’s first time out in the world. After the telecom scam, he’d been angry, sure, but he’d gotten over it after a good night’s sleep. But this time—this time he just couldn’t swallow it.
Wen Sen was the first friend he’d made after arriving in Rongcheng. Xia Yiyang never in a million years would have thought that Wen Sen’s loyalty, his warmth, his enthusiasm—all of it was an act. From start to finish, the only goal was to swindle money… Even the name “Wen Sen” was fake!
Xia Yiyang sat on the edge of the bed, head down, packing. He folded and refolded a T-shirt seven or eight times, nearly wrinkling it into a mess with his own hands.
Mechanically folding the shirt, he muttered to himself, “I’m so stupid. I mistook someone’s scheming for sincerity, and all they saw me as was an ATM.”
“—Xia Yiyang, you’re not stupid.”
The very second his voice trailed off, a well-defined hand landed gently on top of his head. The man ruffled his hair, as if soothing a closed-up little bud.
“I’ve always thought you were smart.”
“You’re not just smart—you’re brave, kind, and hardworking.”
“You’re the most optimistic person I’ve ever met. I hope you stay that way.”
“…”
The boy didn’t answer.
At some point, a few droplets had appeared on the T-shirt spread out in front of him—water marks blooming like muddled thoughts. He sniffled awkwardly, then gave up and used the T-shirt as a towel to wipe his tears. But they kept coming, uncontrollably, more and more.
Damn it.
Xia Yiyang thought to himself that his boss must have seen him making a fool of himself, crying and unable to stop.
But then again, Sheng Lin wasn’t the type to mock him—so what if he acted a little spoiled in front of him?
The young master had stayed at the hostel for half a month and had accumulated quite a bit of stuff. One large suitcase was filled to the brim, and the odds and ends that were left over filled an entire backpack.
Once everything was packed, Xia Yiyang stood in the silent, empty eight-bed room and took one last look at the little corner he’d called home for the past half month. His gaze inevitably drifted up to the upper bunk.
—Wen Sen’s guitar was still lying on the bed.
But its owner would never see it again.
“Xia Yiyang, it’s time to go.” Sheng Lin stood outside the room, the boy’s suitcase beside him. The evening glow streamed through the hallway window, softening his features and blurring his silhouette. “Check one more time to make sure you haven’t left anything behind. Don’t come back all flustered later.”
“Nothing left.” Xia Yiyang pulled his gaze away from the guitar, looked at Sheng Lin—his tears long dried, leaving only a brilliant smile at the corner of his lips—and said, “Boss, let’s go.”
The young master was finally stepping toward his next chapter.
……
The ice jelly shop was a standalone two-story building. When Sheng Lin had first taken over the place, what caught his eye was exactly the loft on the second floor. He lived up there, making it incredibly convenient to head downstairs and open the shop, prepare ingredients, and get everything ready every day.
Xia Yiyang had worked at the ice jelly shop for half a month but had never once set foot on the second floor.
The small stairwell wasn’t very brightly lit. Sheng Lin carried Xia Yiyang’s large suitcase up the stairs in just a few strides, while Xia Yiyang followed obediently behind with his backpack slung over his shoulders. The head of his panda plushie peeked out from the backpack, curiously taking in its new surroundings along with its owner.
Stepping onto the second floor, a neat and tidy space came into view. It was pretty much what Xia Yiyang had imagined—Sheng Lin’s room didn’t have much of a lived-in feel. The furniture looked like it came straight out of an IKEA showroom: orderly and precise.
What caught Xia Yiyang’s attention the most was the terrace. It took up a quarter of the floor space and had an amazing view. A set of plastic tables and chairs were placed casually on it, with a clothes drying rack set up nearby. Xia Yiyang couldn’t help but exclaim at the wasted potential.
“This terrace is so big! It’d be perfect for growing flowers!” Xia Yiyang couldn’t help but start fantasizing. “Rongcheng is so humid and warm—with this kind of climate, you could just scatter some seeds and they’d grow. Once the flowers bloom, you could sit out here, enjoy the night view, feel the breeze, and have a late-night snack—it’d be perfect!”
Sheng Lin shot down his idea with one sentence: “Growing flowers is fine—but who’s going to take care of them?”
Xia Yiyang: “…”
Fair enough. He was good at admiring, but he knew nothing about gardening.
Other than the living room, the second floor had only two rooms. One had been converted into Sheng Lin’s study, where his precious computer for rendering blueprints sat by the window with the best lighting. But he hadn’t taken on any projects lately, so he rarely went in there to work.
The other was, naturally, Sheng Lin’s bedroom—plain white walls, with only a large wardrobe and a bed.
Xia Yiyang stood at the bedroom entrance, luggage in hand, looking a bit embarrassed. “Oh dear, Boss—you’re giving me your only bed? Then where are you going to sleep?”
Sheng Lin raised an eyebrow. “I’m still sleeping in my bed, of course.”
“!!!” Xia Yiyang’s eyes went wide. He immediately crossed his arms over his chest, took three steps back, and looked at Sheng Lin in horror.
Wait a minute—was he jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire? Sheng Lin looked like a total gentleman, upright and proper, offering him a place to stay when he had nowhere to go—but was he actually plotting some kind of workplace power play in the back of his mind?!
Sure, the young master acknowledged that he was fair-skinned, good-looking, and easy on the eyes—but he was NOT mentally prepared to “do as the locals do” and experience Rongcheng’s “gay culture” head-on!
“N-n-n-no way…” Xia Yiyang stammered in panic. “Boss, this isn’t appropriate, is it?”
“What’s inappropriate about it?” Sheng Lin took a step toward him. “This is my house. I can sleep wherever I want.”
Xia Yiyang’s eyes darted around nervously. “Actually… actually, now that I think about it, the hostel isn’t that bad aside from all the scammers, thieves, and roommates who snore and have body odor. Maybe I should check out other hostels and see if they have any bunks available…”
As he spoke, he started edging his suitcase toward the door.
Sheng Lin grabbed the handle of his suitcase, a rather inscrutable expression on his face. “Why are you leaving? Are you unhappy with my place, or unhappy with me as a roommate?”
Xia Yiyang didn’t dare tell the truth: he was very unhappy with the safety of his chastity!
He’d always worn his heart on his sleeve. Sheng Lin only needed one look at those darting, shifty eyes to guess exactly what kind of misunderstanding this young master had conjured up.
It was ridiculous—but also, ridiculously cute.
Sheng Lin hid the amusement in his heart and spoke calmly: “Xia Yiyang, you’re here to stay for free.”
“…Huh?”
“My bed is naturally for me to sleep in. As for you—” The man raised his hand and pointed toward the living room behind Xia Yiyang. “—you sleep on the couch.”
————————
Young master (aggrieved) (shocked) (in disbelief): Why do I have to sleep on the couch?! I’m a guest! Shouldn’t YOU be the one sleeping on the couch? [sad][sad][sad][sad]
Boss (smirking coldly): What kind of delusions are you having? [question mark][question mark][question mark][question mark]
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