Young Master Ming nodded calmly.

Young Master Ming searched for fifteen minutes but was unsuccessful in finding a horse farm that was still open late at night where he could secretly practice riding.

…

Luo Chi was very relaxed soaking in the hot spring. He was already getting drowsy, so he closed his eyes to rest. His short hair and eyelashes were damp from the hot steam, hanging down softly.

Ming Weiting put down his phone. Seeing Huo Miao about to slide completely under the water, he reached out in time to scoop him up.

Luo Chi floated in the hot spring, his head pillowed on Ming Weiting’s arm. It was so comfortable that it took him a while to open his eyes. “Is it morning?”

He was usually exceptionally alert and rarely had such drowsy, confused moments. He raised his hand to rub his eyes a couple of times and only managed to slowly open them with great effort.

Ming Weiting was a little surprised, and a hint of a smile appeared in his eyes. “Yes.” He held Huo Miao and changed his direction, stroking Luo Chi’s hair and greeting him in a low voice, “Good morning.”

Luo Chi caught a glimpse of a shining white light and immediately pushed himself up, opening his eyes.

Out of habit, he was about to jump up and get dressed, but the motion of the hot spring water made him lose his balance and slip, falling right into Young Master Ming’s arms.

The silvery moonlight fell on the spring water, instantly stirred into a sparkling patch of shattered silver.

It took Luo Chi a long moment to realize that it was actually moonlight. Seeing the unrestrained smile in Young Master Ming’s eyes, the corners of his own mouth lifted uncontrollably, and he immediately scooped up a handful of water and splashed it over.

Before Ming Weiting could defend himself, he was suddenly splashed in the face with water. He copied the action and retaliated. Before the moon in the hot spring could piece itself back together, a very intense, small-scale war had erupted.

By the time Luo Chi ran out of energy, stopping with a mixture of laughter, coughing, and panting, both of them were thoroughly soaked.

Large drops of water continuously rolled down from the tips of their hair and the hems of their clothes. Luo Chi wiped his face forcefully, hastily wrung out his clothes a couple of times, and then vigorously shook the water from his hair.

Noticing Ming Weiting’s gaze, Luo Chi blinked and looked up. “What’s wrong?”

Ming Weiting shook his head, picked up a towel, and started drying his hair for him. “Just now.” Ming Weiting mimicked his action, shaking the water from his hair. “You were like the shepherd dogs from today.”

Luo Chi had never seen anyone make such a blatant comparison. He stared with wide eyes, then remembered that Young Master Ming was indeed not familiar with canine animals, and couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s not how you do it.”

Luo Chi took Ming Weiting’s hand and shook it twice, then lowered his head to rest against his shoulder, mimicking the movements of the two big dogs and rubbing against him.

Ming Weiting’s movements paused. He looked down at the Huo Miao resting on his shoulder.

Because his hair was completely wet and had been shaken so vigorously, Luo Chi’s short hair was a little frizzy, and his bangs were scattered wetly on his forehead. As he rested against his shoulder like this, he still carried a bit of warmth.

…

It was very nice to touch.

Luo Chi waited for a moment, then lifted his head with a serious expression. “No handshake?”

Ming Weiting came back to his senses, smiled, and shook his head gently.

He directly lifted Huo Miao out of the water and patted his back lightly. “Relax.”

Luo Chi was startled and quickly steadied himself by holding onto his shoulders. “I can still soak.”

“Soaking for too long isn’t good either,” Ming Weiting said. “Aren’t we going horse riding tomorrow?”

Only then did Luo Chi remember the more important plan. He nodded quickly, no longer insisting, and cooperated as he was carried ashore.

Ming Weiting waited for him to sit down, then took the large bath towel that had been warmed by the stones and wrapped Luo Chi up completely, using a corner to dry his hair.

Luo Chi’s ears turned bright red. He lowered his head and said in a small voice, “I haven’t been carried around since I was three.”

Unless he was feeling particularly unwell, he generally wasn’t carried. If there were crutches or a wheelchair, he would much rather use those.

It was only after being brought home by his mom that Luo Chi had slightly gotten used to the feeling, but unless he accidentally fell asleep on the sofa, his mom usually wouldn’t carry him back to his room.

“If you’re tired, you don’t have to move,” Ming Weiting said, having dried his hair to a semi-dry state and gently tousled it. “I was still being carried by Uncle Lu when I was five.”

Huo Miao instantly looked up at him, his eyes suddenly shining. “Really?”

“Really,” Ming Weiting thought for a moment. “Many times.”

…

Although it was basically because he refused to come ashore and was put in a sack by his father, then carried by Uncle Lu to the island where the family was vacationing, the main point was more or less the same.

Young Master Ming used facts to persuade Huo Miao, then directly wrapped him up in the towel. “Nuzzling someone’s shoulder with your head means you like that person.”

Luo Chi was busy picking out the canned yellow peaches from the fruit platter. Hearing him review the key point, he took a moment to nod. “Right.”

Teacher Huo Miao was very pleased with his teaching progress and continued to add, “At this time, to express thanks, you shouldn’t shake hands. You should personally feed them something to eat.”

Ming Weiting looked down, helped pick out all the yellow peaches, chose the biggest and roundest piece, and scooped it up with a spoon.

Luo Chi’s eyes lit up. He said his thanks, took it, and quickly popped it into his mouth.

Ming Weiting looked at his puffed-up cheeks, a smile in his eyes. He raised a hand and gently poked him. “Squirrel.”

“Mom calls me that too,” Luo Chi said, biting the spoon and mumbling after chewing and swallowing the peach. “Why?”

“Because squirrels are very brave,” Ming Weiting said. “They have a way with everything, no problem can stump them, and once they decide to trust someone, they no longer hesitate at all. This is something many adults can’t do.”

The more Luo Chi listened, the more something felt off. “Is that a squirrel?”

“That’s you,” Ming Weiting said. “In my eyes, you are a squirrel. In my eyes, you are also brave and determined, and not afraid of anything.”

Luo Chi was completely unprepared for such words. He stared with wide eyes for a long moment, the heat gradually creeping up from behind his ears, and his whole body started steaming on the spot.

Some brave little squirrels move very fast. Wrapped hotly in the towel, he hastily packed up his things, bounced twice between the rocks, and quickly disappeared.

When Young Master Ming returned to the bedroom, dried himself, and changed into his pajamas, he found Huo Miao already in bed, with his hair properly blow-dried, warmly wrapped up in a blanket burrito, pretending to be asleep.

Young Master Ming reviewed the essentials of horse riding for half the night. By the time he put down his laptop, the pretending-to-be-asleep Huo Miao was sound asleep.

For the other half of the night, Young Master Ming lay beside Huo Miao, proactively offering his arm as a pillow for him. He stared at the stars outside the window until dawn, contemplating whether lack of sleep really did stunt one’s growth.

…

For the next few days, they spent most of their time at the horse farm.

On this matter, Ming Weiting’s vague premonition had not been wrong.

It seemed that the Ming family had an inherited inability to ride horses. Or perhaps it was because another Ming family member who came to the horse farm many years ago didn’t leave a good impression on these horses’ parents and grandparents. Luo Chi learned for only half a day and was already able to ride his height-appropriate pony around. But Young Master Ming and his horse still didn’t get along, and he couldn’t stop the horse from walking to a fence and throwing him over every time.

Compared to the two boys who were just starting to learn to ride, the two heroines were much more dashing and heroic.

Yan Yu had been sullen for the past few days, not because her feelings had been stirred up that day, but more because the Mr. Ming who was traveling by water was really not very fast.

…

In fact, he seemed to not be in a hurry at all.

Ren Shuangmei thought of a plan, had someone look up the ship’s itinerary, and after staring at each other in silence with the two boys for ten minutes, the three of them cooperated to destroy the intelligence report in their hands.

When they got to the special pasture for horse riding, Ren Shuangmei specifically instructed the boys to take good care of little Ming and went with Yan Yu to ride horses and vent.

Those two tall horses were strong and agile, their coats as white as smooth satin, even faintly glowing in the sun. Galloping across the grassland, they were like two floating clouds.

Luo Chi had just gotten used to an adult horse. Seeing that Ming Weiting was still having a heart-to-heart with his horse, he gently tapped the horse’s belly and tugged the reins to guide it over.

“Maybe your temperaments don’t match,” Luo Chi suggested. “Want to switch to another one?”

“It’s not its fault,” Ming Weiting shook his head. “It’s my fault. I always forget the essentials when riding, and it’s uncomfortable.”

Ming Weiting fed the last handful of grass to the horse. He stood up and was about to speak when his gaze suddenly fixed on something.

Luo Chi was taken aback by his unwavering stare. “What’s wrong?”

Ming Weiting stood in place, looking up at Huo Miao, not speaking immediately.

…

So cool.

Because they were riding horses, both of them had changed into hunting attire today and were also wearing wrist guards.

Huo Miao’s hunting outfit was also almost entirely white, with only the patterns in gold thread. The slanted collar had a bit of fluffy trim, and the leather wrist guards cinched the cuffs, making his waist look sharp and neat. Yet, amidst the silver embroidery, there were fiery red flame patterns.

Luo Chi sat on a horse that was almost taller than a person, holding the reins in one hand. As the sun set, the thin layer of sweat on his forehead sparkled as if it were glowing.

Young Master Ming had always been one to say whatever he thought, and he candidly expressed his current thought: “How can you be so cool?”

Luo Chi was taken aback, blinked, and his ears unconsciously grew hot. “…We have to be cool together.”

His voice was too low, and Ming Weiting couldn’t hear him clearly. “What?”

“We have to be cool together,” Luo Chi rubbed his ears forcefully, raised his voice, and gestured to him with a smile in his eyes. “Coming up?”

Ming Weiting’s gaze lit up, and he nodded.

Riding a horse was a bit difficult for Young Master Ming, but mounting one wasn’t. He used the stirrup for leverage and leaped neatly onto Luo Chi’s saddle.

Luo Chi’s horse was close to the size of an adult horse and had no problem carrying both of them. It pawed the ground a couple of times and snorted softly, shaking its head.

“I can’t run fast yet, we’ll just walk around slowly. Don’t worry.”

Luo Chi took off the Polaroid camera hanging around his neck and handed it to him. “Take a picture of anything you find pretty. If you’re nervous, just hold onto me.”

Ming Weiting took the Polaroid camera. “I’m not nervous.”

Luo Chi couldn’t help but laugh. “Not afraid that I’ll accidentally get us both thrown off by the horse?”

“It’s okay,” Ming Weiting said. “If that happens, I’ll jump off first and wait on the ground to catch you.”

Luo Chi held the reins, his face unconsciously growing warm, and didn’t say anything.

…

It wasn’t actually that easy to fall off.

He had become very skilled over the past few days. He expertly and gently urged the horse on, strolling slowly across the endless meadow, occasionally turning the horse’s head to look at the flowers.

Ming Weiting sat behind him. Whenever he heard him say something was pretty, he would raise the camera and take a picture, then put away the instantly developed photo.

They hadn’t gone far before they saw the other two galloping white horses.

Yan Yu’s horse was running freely across the grassland, the sound of the bells as crisp as the horse’s hooves. Ren Shuangmei followed closely behind her, her white horse running like the wind, like a flowing cloud sweeping through the grass.

Luo Chi turned his head, just about to exclaim to Ming Weiting how skilled his auntie and mom were, when he suddenly let out a sound of surprise.

Ming Weiting asked, “What’s wrong?”

“That move is to rein in the horse,” Luo Chi said. “To make the horse stop.”

Luo Chi demonstrated for him: “It’s very difficult, easy to fall off, but super cool…”

Before his voice faded, Yan Yu suddenly pulled on the reins. The agile white horse reared up with a loud neigh, its front hooves pawing the air a few times before landing steadily on the ground.

Ren Shuangmei, following behind her, also reined in her horse in time, gently urging it forward and walking over slowly.

Yan Yu sat on her horse, looking along the river into the distance, at the long-abandoned pier not far away.

Most of these piers on the grassland were not maintained—after all, hardly anyone came here by boat. Occasionally, a small wooden boat would arrive, and a group of herdsmen’s children would gather around to look at the curiosity.

This time, a small speedboat had suddenly appeared at the pier.

The speedboat was sleek and white, with exquisite hand-painted patterns on its streamlined hull, exactly like the decorations in the small courtyard.

Ming Weiting suddenly raised the Polaroid in his hands.

Luo Chi held his breath, not daring to speak. Noticing the movement of the Young Master behind him, he asked in a whisper, “What are you taking a picture of?”

Ming Weiting stated the facts: “Father’s last cool pose.”

Luo Chi: “…”

The two boys hid not far away, jumped off the horse and used its body for cover. Together with Ren Shuangmei who quickly joined them, they held their breath and watched the situation in the distance.

Yan Yu, dressed in a sharp and practical outfit, sat on her horse, holding a riding crop in one hand, looking at the all-too-familiar boat.

Ming Bozhou’s boat was docked at the port.

There was no one on the boat. The person was on the shore.

He stood in the wind of the grassland, the hem of his clothes blowing up. He said nothing, just stared fixedly at the love of his heart.