“Hmm?” Jiang Ruotang frowned in suspicion as he grabbed hold of Lu Guifan’s wrist. The other man’s grip was strong where he covered Jiang’s eyes, but his palm was warm.

“The pancake’s about to explode—you shouldn’t lean in so close,” Lu Guifan exhaled softly and calmly pulled his hand away.

If his eyes got injured, he wouldn’t be able to draw anymore.

As Jiang Ruotang regained his sight, he happened to catch sight of the stall owner—one hand covering the lid of the pan, the other shielding his wife’s face.

“Wow, so cool.” Only then did Jiang Ruotang realize that even though the stall owner had some flour dust on his face, on closer look, he was actually a handsome middle-aged man.

“Who’s cool?” the owner chuckled and asked.

“You, boss!” Jiang Ruotang replied with a grin. “A man is at his coolest when he’s protecting his wife!”

The boss laughed even more. “Looks like that free sausage we gave you wasn’t wasted.”

The pancake was soon done and came out of the pan. The boss’s wife used a spatula to cut it in half, revealing the golden egg and vibrant green chives inside. Jiang Ruotang sniffed it for a while, then handed half of it to Lu Guifan.

“Let’s share.”

“No need. I eat this all the time.”

“I’m worried the chives smell will stick to me. If you eat some too, then you won’t notice it on my breath.”

In his past life, during chemotherapy when he had no appetite, Jiang Ruotang had told Lu Guifan about the old days—how every time he passed by the gate of No. 14 High School on the way to the art studio, there was this couple selling chive-and-egg pancakes that smelled so good it could make your eyebrows fly off.

The next day, Lu Guifan had showed up at the hospital with a lunchbox and that very same pancake.

Jiang Ruotang was amazed. After graduation, he had gone back to the gate of No. 14 High himself but never found that couple again. He had no idea how Lu Guifan had tracked them down.

Now Lu Guifan looked down at the half pancake in his hand but still took it. Just as Jiang Ruotang was about to take a bite, Lu Guifan grabbed his wrist and coldly said, “Didn’t I tell you to wait until it cools?”

“It smells too good! I’m practically drooling!”

Jiang Ruotang puffed his cheeks and started blowing on the chive filling.

Just then, some No. 14 High students passed by. One of them asked casually, “Smells pretty good. Is that stuff tasty?”

Jiang Ruotang nodded. “Looks ordinary but tastes like heaven. One bite and your eyebrows will fly off! Look, we came all the way from Guangyao in North City to buy this outside your school—that alone says how good it is, right?”

“Really? I’ll try one too.”

And so, while Jiang Ruotang was cooling his pancake by the roadside, a few No. 14 High students came by and bought some.

“I think I’m a lucky koi fish,” Jiang Ruotang said.

Lu Guifan didn’t get the reference. “What koi fish?”

“Brings prosperity,” Jiang Ruotang nodded toward the now-busy couple.

Lu Guifan gave a faint smile. “It’s probably cooled down now. You can eat.”

As they walked, Jiang Ruotang munched on his pancake while Lu Guifan followed closely behind, occasionally tugging his collar to keep him from walking into poles or stepping onto the curb where he could get hit by cars. By the time Jiang finished eating, they had arrived at the optician’s shop.

The optician greeted them and brought out Lu Guifan’s new glasses.

The frame was new, the lenses thin and bright. The assistant told him, “New lenses might make you a little dizzy at first. Give it some time.”

Lu Guifan picked up the glasses. They felt much lighter than his old pair. Inside the case was a receipt—about half his scholarship gone in one purchase.

“Heartbroken?” Jiang Ruotang teased.

“Not really. Whoever broke it, pays for it,” Lu Guifan replied.

“Good. Tomorrow we’ll take the receipt and go see Meng Yang. So many people saw him knock your glasses off—he can’t deny it even if he wants to.”

With that, Jiang Ruotang went to wash his hands.

When he returned, wiping them dry with a tissue, he stood in front of Lu Guifan with a smile in his eyes. “Class rep, straighten your back and lift your chin. I’m going to take out your contact lenses.”

He looked like he was preparing for surgery.

Lu Guifan gazed at him—it was just like that morning. Jiang Ruotang used one hand to gently lift his eyelid while the other quickly pinched out the thin lens from his eye.

It gave Jiang Ruotang another chance to admire Lu Guifan’s eyes.

Still beautiful.

Like a calm amber lake, reflecting soft light.

Jiang Ruotang quietly brushed Lu Guifan’s eyelashes with his fingertip. His heart fluttered slightly.

“These are single-use,” Jiang Ruotang said casually, tossing the lens into the trash.

When the second lens came off, Jiang Ruotang let out a soft chuckle.

“What are you laughing at?” Lu Guifan asked.

“This morning I said I touched your eyelashes. Now I touched your eye. Bet you’ve never even touched your own eye like that?”

“Mm.”

As Jiang Ruotang turned to leave, he suddenly felt Lu Guifan’s hand close firmly around his waist.

“Class rep, it’s just taking out contact lenses—you’re actually nervous?” Jiang Ruotang gently patted his hand.

“You said it yourself—you touched my eyeball. Of course I’d be a little nervous.”

Lu Guifan let go and turned away, picking up his glasses from the table and putting them on.

The new lenses were bright and clear. Things looked sharper, and no longer as blurry or distorted as before. Lu Guifan strolled around the shop to check for dizziness but felt fine.

When he turned around, Jiang Ruotang was sitting on a tall stool, chin in hand, watching him.

“Alright, let’s head home,” Lu Guifan said.

“Let’s go. Good luck on your exam tomorrow—you’d better stay first in the grade.”

“Mm.”

Their homes were in opposite directions.

“Xiao Gao’s coming to pick me up. Want him to drive you home too?”

Lu Guifan shook his head calmly. “We’re going different ways. It’s late—no need to make your driver take a detour.”

Jiang Ruotang lowered his eyes, a bit disappointed. “Alright then.”

That expression reminded Lu Guifan of his childhood—when he lived with his grandpa and the neighbor kid asked him to catch cicadas but he turned him down to go fishing. That kid’s look was just like this.

After a while, Jiang Ruotang tilted his head. “The bus stop’s across the street. Aren’t you going?”

“I’ll wait till Xiao Gao picks you up.”

A visible smile appeared on Jiang Ruotang’s face.

Lu Guifan didn’t quite understand how Jiang could switch so seamlessly between sadness and joy.

Soon Xiao Gao arrived. Jiang Ruotang got into the car and waved goodbye to Lu Guifan through the window.

After Xiao Gao drove past the corner, Jiang suddenly said, “Stop here for a sec.”

Though puzzled, Xiao Gao pulled over.

Jiang Ruotang got out, stood at the street corner, and looked back.

He watched as Lu Guifan crossed the street to the bus stop. A bus arrived soon after, and Lu Guifan got on.

Only then did Jiang Ruotang turn back and get into the car.

“What’s wrong?” Xiao Gao asked.

“Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Jiang Ruotang closed his eyes, feeling the night breeze.

In his past life, from the hospital window, he had watched Lu Guifan leave so many times.

Now, he just wanted to see him leave again.

Exactly the same.

He was still the same person.

At home, Lu Guifan opened the bathroom door. On the old-tiled wall hung a mirror. He looked at his reflection—in the new, thinner lenses, his eyes no longer looked so distorted. Their contours and lines were finally clear.

For the first time in years, Lu Guifan clearly saw his own eyes through his glasses.

As if drawn by something unseen, he reached out and gently touched his own eyelashes with his fingertip.

Is this the feeling?

There was nothing special about it—so why did Jiang Ruotang like it so much?

Honestly, even if he could ace competition problems, he still couldn’t figure out what Jiang Ruotang was thinking.

One thing was certain, though: for as long as he could remember, he’d never been someone others liked much. But today, he’d been warmly accepted by someone else.

About ten minutes later, Jiang Ruotang arrived home.

As soon as he stepped into the entryway, he noticed an extra pair of shoes. While changing his own, he studied them curiously.

They looked like those ridiculously pretentious handmade Italian leather shoes straight out of an idol drama. God forbid they belonged to some potbellied old CEO—those shoes would be wasted on him.

“Is there a guest at home?” Jiang Ruotang muttered under his breath.

The moment he stepped into the house, he saw Jiang Huaiyuan chatting cheerfully with a young man in the living room.

Thankfully, the guest wasn’t bald or fat—instead, he was a handsome man who did those handmade shoes justice.

Jiang Ruotang was about to quietly sneak past the living room and escape to his room when Jiang Huaiyuan unexpectedly called out to him.

“Ruotang, this is Mu Xianqing, Uncle Mu’s youngest son. He runs an art gallery called Deep Blue—you’ve heard of it, haven’t you?”

Mu Xianqing… How could Jiang Ruotang not know that name? Ten years from now, this man would have opened galleries all over Europe, frequented major art auctions, and become a renowned collector and connoisseur.

But this was the first time he’d actually spoken to someone of this caliber. Although right now, Mu Xianqing’s reputation probably wasn’t that big yet.

He nodded dully, putting on the polite expression expected of someone his age. “Hello, Mr. Mu.”

Mu Xianqing smiled. “No need to be so formal. Just call me Brother Mu.”

Jiang Ruotang thought to himself: I’d only dare call you “Big Shot Mu.” Even calling you “Brother” feels like it’ll shave years off my life.

Mu Xianqing continued to smile as he looked at Jiang Ruotang—as if trying to soothe a little kid who’d snuck out to play and come home only to find their tutor waiting.

“Brother Mu,” Jiang Ruotang finally greeted him aloud.

Mu Xianqing’s smile deepened as he tilted his head, scrutinizing Jiang Ruotang closely. He’d expected to see a refined, artistic young man, but instead this boy looked like a carefree child, untouched by hardship.

Could such a kid—someone without the highs and lows of life experience or emotional depth—really have created artwork with such profound feeling?

Maybe… he’d hired someone else to draw them?

No, no. Mu Xianqing, you haven’t even truly gotten to know him yet. You mustn’t jump to conclusions—or you might miss the chance to encounter real genius.

“Ruotang, I saw the piece you submitted to the Raw Stone exhibition. You have potential. Could I see more of your work?”

“Huh?” Jiang Ruotang wasn’t faking confusion; he was genuinely dazed.

Jiang Huaiyuan chuckled. “Aren’t you always saying you want to get into the Capital Academy of Fine Arts? Let Xianqing take a look and give you some advice.”

Only then did Jiang Ruotang nod. “Okay. Please follow me.”

Mu Xianqing followed Jiang Ruotang upstairs, eyes lingering on the boy’s back, wondering what sort of artistic genius was trapped in that plain school uniform.

He’d thought that even at this young age, Jiang Ruotang’s eyes would show traces of a story—but from the conversation in the living room to now, the boy was just an ordinary high schooler.

Well… an ordinary, wealthy, pale, and pretty high schooler.

The attic room Jiang Ruotang led him into was surprisingly charming—a sign that the boy at least had a little taste and artistic spirit.

But what Jiang Ruotang handed him were just class assignments from his studio.

Mu Xianqing flipped through them absentmindedly while Jiang Ruotang stood obediently nearby, like a kid waiting for a teacher to grade his homework.

Not that Jiang Ruotang was trying to act cute—it was just that Mu Xianqing, despite his elegant appearance, had a reputation for being a bit of a playboy. Who knew whether he loved art or just loved collecting artists.

Clearly, Mu Xianqing wasn’t impressed.

The technique was decent enough, but the pictures were boring—nothing like the stunning sketch he’d sent to the exhibition, that piece so rich in feeling and vision.

Mu Xianqing rested his chin on his hand and gave Jiang Ruotang a faint smile.

His gaze had a piercing quality that made Jiang Ruotang feel as if he were being seen straight through. He tensed involuntarily.

“I’ve seen the piece you gave Bai Yingchuan.”

Jiang Ruotang wiped all expression from his face. Was Lin Lu dissatisfied with that painting and fed Mu Xianqing some nonsense to bring this big shot here to ‘educate’ him?

“I also saw the sketch you submitted to the Fu Chunshi exhibition.”