That dinner lasted an incredibly long time. In all their years of going to school together, it was the first time they had ever stayed so long that the server actually came over to ask if they wanted to order more food because the chef was clocking out.

“Let’s get going,” Li Zhiyue said, checking his phone. “I’ve practically digested everything we just ate…”

“I’m so full I’m getting sleepy,” Liu Wenrui said, letting out a massive yawn.

Zhang Chuanlong looked exhausted too. He didn’t say a word and just stood up.

“I’ll drop you guys off at school,” Zou Yang said. “I’m heading back on Monday.”

“Remember, our report is due on Monday,” Liu Wenrui reminded him.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang sighed. “It’s basically done.”

“No worries, if you don’t finish it, just send it to the group,” Liu Wenrui offered. “Brother Zhiyue can handle the rest.”

“Oh, forget it. The thing is practically finished, and now you suddenly decide to show some maternal tenderness,” Zou Yang scoffed.

Fan Jun drove them back to campus first. Before they were even halfway there, Zou Yang felt a wave of overwhelming exhaustion hit him. The moment he closed his eyes, he drifted right off to sleep.

When he finally woke up, it was just him and Fan Jun left in the car. Looking out the window, he realized they were already nearing the commercial district.

“What kind of cheap alcohol has a delayed punch like that?” he muttered.

“It has nothing to do with the alcohol—you only had one glass,” Fan Jun countered. “Once everything gets sorted out and you finally relax, your body just shuts down.”

“True, crying is actually a huge physical workout.” Zou Yang raised his arms and executed a massive, deep stretch. His back muscles tightened so much he almost got a cramp, prompting him to quickly arch his back until he felt comfortable again.

“Ah…” He leaned back into the passenger seat, letting out a soft groan. “Mmh…”

“Don’t make those sounds,” Fan Jun said, glancing over at him. “I’m trying to drive.”

Zou Yang burst out laughing. “What, your ears are suddenly working perfectly now?”

“We’re sitting right next to each other and there’s no other noise,” Fan Jun said. “If I couldn’t hear that, I’d be completely deaf.”

“Shut up,” Zou Yang said. He paused, then reached over to gently pinch Fan Jun’s earlobe. “How is that ear doing anyway? Any improvement?”

“Not really. When I did the test at the hospital… it’s still a bit worse than before, but it’s not total hearing loss,” Fan Jun said. “Anyway, I’m used to it. As long as my hand slowly gets back to normal, that’s enough for me.”

“Yeah,” Zou Yang closed his eyes. “Once your hand recovers, you have to personally train me again. If I go there now and Coach Lyu trains me, I swear… it’s going to be so awkward.”

“Well, even if my hand isn’t fully recovered, I can still train you if you want,” Fan Jun smiled.

“Seriously?” Zou Yang immediately sat up straight and stared at him.

“Why would I lie about that?” Fan Jun said. “Beating you doesn’t require two hands and two feet.”

“Coach Fan?” Zou Yang couldn’t help but laugh. “The deal is you’re training me, not fighting me.”

“Training you doesn’t require two hands and two feet either,” Fan Jun corrected himself.

“Fine,” Zou Yang closed his eyes again. “When do we start?”

“Wait until you finish everything you’re busy with these next couple of days. I also have to handle a busy stretch for…” Fan Jun seemed to be calculating his timeline, “about another half a month.”

“Alright,” Zou Yang replied softly.

What kind of birthday gift took so much backbreaking labor? He had already been working on it for a while, and it still required another half a month?

Zou Yang suddenly felt a massive surge of anticipation.

It was Fan Jun’s birthday, yet he was the one looking forward to the gift—how delightfully strange.

A subtle smile spread across his face.

When they got back to Fan Jun’s apartment, Zou Yang didn’t sit, slouch, or lie down. He grabbed a change of clothes and went straight into the bathroom. If he didn’t shower right away, he knew he wouldn’t have the energy to move later.

And today, a shower was absolutely non-negotiable.

Although he wasn’t superstitious, his mother’s old words suddenly popped into his head: Go take a thorough shower and wash away all the messy unhappiness, discomfort, and bad energy.

He was so exhausted during the shower that he could barely keep his eyes open. Propping his hand against the wall, he managed to finish rinsing off, slipping into his clothes as he stumbled toward the bedroom.

The exact second he stepped inside, he crashed directly into a deep sleep.

He had no memory of actually getting into bed.

He slept for an entire day and night. During that time, he woke up briefly a few times.

Once, Fan Jun woke him up to make sure he drank some water. Another time, Fan Jun checked to see if he was feeling sick anywhere. And once, he got up on his own to use the bathroom… there were probably other times, but it was all a blur.

When he finally woke up completely, the sky outside was pitch black.

The spot next to him in bed was empty.

He sat on the edge of the mattress for a good ten minutes before his brain cleared up. Checking his phone, he saw it was already 7:00 PM the next evening.

That sleep was so intense… it felt more like a mini-coma.

His phone was flooded with unread notifications from the dorm group chat, his mom, and Fan Jun.

[Fan]: Sleeping beauty, I’m working at the shop tonight. Message me the second you wake up.

A smile crept onto his face as he typed out a reply.

[Zou yang]: I’m awake. Heading over to find you.

[Fan]: I’ll wait so we can eat dinner together.

[Zou yang]: Sounds good.

His mother’s text was asking how things went.

She had probably heard about the reading of the will. Even though he hadn’t told her directly, and his father’s side definitely wouldn’t call her, life has a way of letting rumors travel through interconnected channels.

He called his mother back.

“Why is your voice so raspy?” she asked right away.

“I just slept for a full day and night,” Zou Yang laughed softly. “My throat hasn’t woken up yet.”

“You really are something…” his mother said. “Everything went okay, right? Did your aunt and that crowd cause any trouble during the reading?”

“No trouble at all, don’t worry,” Zou Yang said. “Tomorrow after my classes finish, I’ll come over and tell you everything face-to-face.”

“Did he… leave you anything?” she asked after a pause.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang replied quietly.

His mother sighed heavily and didn’t press the matter further.

Zou Yang washed up, changed his clothes, and put down some food for Da Hei. The cat remained completely unmoved, sprawled out on the sofa with its belly flipped entirely toward the ceiling.

“Da Hei, you’ve gotten incredibly snobbish lately,” Zou Yang remarked as he ran a lint roller over his jacket. “The premium food Brother Fan bought is so expensive, and you won’t even look at it.”

Da Hei let out a very brief, sharp, “Ah.”

“There’s no liquid cash in my inheritance. Even if I want to sell something, it’s going to take a long time,” Zou Yang noted. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. We’re still living our normal lives for now, got it?”

Da Hei licked its nose, completely ignoring him.

Zou Yang headed downstairs to the bike shed and pulled out his electric scooter.

Lately, he had either been driving He Chuan’s car or riding Fan Jun’s scooter; his own bike had been sitting idle for a while.

Fan Jun was the only one who periodically came down to charge the battery and check if it was running fine.

As he sped down the road on his scooter, his mind suddenly flashed back to the very first time he had ridden this bike down to Nanzhouping.

A profound wave of nostalgia and complicated emotions hit him.

All that reflecting made him realize he was starving—so hungry his hands were actually shaking.

“Eat this bread first,” Fan Jun said, squeezing his hand the moment he walked in. “The shop next door brought it over for a trial tasting. It’s a new product line, but it’s not very good.”

“…If it’s not very good, why are you making me eat it?” Zou Yang stared at the bread in his hands. It actually looked pretty appetizing.

“Since you’re starving like this, you’ll eat anything,” Fan Jun said, checking his phone. “I’ll take you to the next street over for a bowl of noodles. Anywhere further and you might faint from hunger.”

Zou Yang burst out laughing and took a big bite of the bread. “Are you sure it’s not just because you have to guard the shop tonight?”

“Yeah,” Fan Jun smiled. “He Chuan won’t be here until 8:30 PM.”

He really was starved. The bread tasted fantastic, but he was still hungry after finishing it.

Zou Yang had eaten the noodles on the next street before and knew they were decent, but eating them now while starving made him feel like he had achieved absolute spiritual enlightenment.

After polishing off a massive bowl of noodles and a roasted chicken leg, Zou Yang slumped into a chair at the shop, finally feeling alive again.

He rubbed his stomach. “That’s better, but I’m stuffed.”

“Once He Chuan gets here, I’ll take you out for a short walk,” Fan Jun said.

“Okay.” Zou Yang glanced at the crates stacked near the back courtyard door. “Did a shipment just arrive? Don’t you need to sort it out?”

“I’ll handle it tomorrow.” Fan Jun sat down at the tea table, lighting a stick of some unknown incense He Chuan had made, and started boiling water for tea.

Zou Yang closed his eyes, listening to the soft, rhythmic clinking of the tea utensils on the other side. He stretched out his legs, completely relaxing his entire body.

Just before 8:30 PM, He Chuan pushed open the door and walked in.

“Oh, Zou Yang is here!”

“Yeah,” Zou Yang opened his eyes. “Boss He.”

“Why so formal?” He Chuan asked.

“…Have I ever called you anything else to your face?” Zou Yang countered.

“Just call me Big Brother He,” He Chuan said with a grin.

“What are you up to?” Fan Jun asked, pouring a cup of tea for He Chuan and looking at him skeptically.

“Just building a relationship,” He Chuan shot back.

“Keep an eye on this crooked merchant,” Fan Jun told Zou Yang, handing him a fresh cup of tea.

“Hey, what kind of talk is that? Whether I’m crooked or not depends entirely on who I’m dealing with,” He Chuan said, sitting down next to Zou Yang and gesturing with his chin. “I heard your dad used to be in the calligraphy and art business. Did he leave you a few pieces?”

To say He Chuan was completely crooked wasn’t exactly fair; at times, he was actually incredibly blunt.

For example, right now, he completely bypassed any polite small talk and dove straight into the core matter.

If this had been someone who had a deep, loving relationship with their father and had just listened to the reading of the will, He Chuan’s immediate prying would have earned him a punch in the face.

No wonder he wanted Fan Jun around.

Zou Yang glanced over at Fan Jun.

“He won’t tell me a single thing, just says he doesn’t know,” He Chuan sighed. “His lips are sealed tighter than a vault.”

“What exactly are you thinking, Big Brother He?” Zou Yang asked.

“Ah, I like that title,” He Chuan said, clearly delighted. He shifted a bit closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “If you have those things and you’re looking to cash out, you can come straight to me.”

“I can liquidate them on my own,” Zou Yang said, taking a sip of tea. “My dad left me a calligraphy and art academy too.”

“Xiao Yang, I’m not just saying this for the sake of business,” He Chuan lowered his voice even further. “An establishment like an art academy…”

“There are only three people in this room. Are you lowering your voice like that because you’re afraid I’ll hear you?” Fan Jun interrupted.

“Hey, you…” He Chuan let out a tsk, his voice instantly returning to its normal volume. “It’s just a habit. When you’re negotiating business, keeping your voice low like that makes it way more effective.”

Fan Jun didn’t say anything.

“Can I keep talking now?” He Chuan asked.

“Go ahead,” Fan Jun said.

“I pretty much know how your dad’s art academy operates. It’s usually just a place to talk business or host a minor exhibition,” He Chuan said, looking at Zou Yang. “To be completely honest, their transaction volume can’t compare to an operation like mine. I have a massive client base, and they’re all people with ready cash looking to spend…”

Zou Yang didn’t answer, he just kept his eyes locked on him.

“I actually want to open a more high-end storefront anyway. My current inventory isn’t just cheap stuff,” He Chuan said, pointing at Fan Jun. “He knows. The two of us were literally scouting out storefront properties a couple of days ago.”

“So your plan is to buy the items from me and resell them, right?” Zou Yang asked directly.

“Exactly,” He Chuan nodded. “Of course, if you don’t want to sell and just want to keep them, pretend I never said anything.”

“I need to check exactly what’s in the inventory before I can consider the next step,” Zou Yang said.

“No problem at all,” He Chuan’s voice dropped to a whisper again. “If you…”

Midway through the sentence, he caught himself and raised his voice again. He overcorrected so much that his voice boomed across the room like a bronze bell: “If you aren’t sure about the value, you can come to me.”

Zou Yang didn’t say anything.

He Chuan cleared his throat. “I can also go over there with you to take a look.”

Later that night, as he lay in bed, Zou Yang was still turning He Chuan’s words over in his mind.

“Is that guy reliable?” he asked Fan Jun.

“When it comes to making money, he definitely has his own calculated self-interest,” Fan Jun said. “But… to say he’s completely malicious isn’t true either. Buying low and selling high, exaggerating things to trick amateur buyers—he definitely does that, but his pricing never goes completely off the rails…”

“Yeah.” Zou Yang closed his eyes. “I really don’t understand any of this stuff.”

“He doesn’t necessarily understand it either. He’s never really dealt with calligraphy or paintings before,” Fan Jun noted cautiously.

“This is so annoying,” Zou Yang frowned.

“Talk to Lawyer Cao first,” Fan Jun suggested.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang agreed.

Fan Jun stopped talking, and Zou Yang remained quiet too.

He could tell that as long as he didn’t actively bring up the inheritance, Fan Jun wouldn’t pry—which was completely different from his roommates.

His roommates practically wanted to accompany him to inspect the villa the very next morning. If he actually intended to liquidate any assets, those guys would probably be more enthusiastic than he was.

“When the time comes to handle the rest of the inheritance matters—the division, the comprehensive inventory check,” Zou Yang began, “do you have time to come with me?”

“I…” Fan Jun hesitated. “If you think it’s absolutely necessary…”

“Do you personally actually want to come?” Zou Yang asked bluntly.

Fan Jun didn’t say anything.

“Fan Jun?” Zou Yang turned his head to look at him.

“Yeah?” Fan Jun replied quietly.

“Are you trying to keep your distance to avoid any suspicion?” Zou Yang asked.

Fan Jun didn’t answer. Instead, he rolled over, pulling Zou Yang tightly into his embrace and draping his leg over him.

“Are you worried that I’ll think something, or are you worried about what other people will think?” Zou Yang pressed.

“…I don’t know,” Fan Jun muttered, his voice muffled against Zou Yang’s shoulder.

Hearing his tone, Zou Yang could inexplicably detect a distinct hint of pure grievance.

“So you really think I’m going to judge you?” He ran his hand down Fan Jun’s leg. “You think I’m going to assume you’re just after my money?”

“What kind of tongue-twister is that…” Fan Jun muttered. “No.”

“Then you’re worried about other people thinking you’re after my money?” Zou Yang asked again.

“I don’t care what other people think,” Fan Jun said quietly.

“Then doesn’t the loop lead right back to the start? It’s still about me!” Zou Yang raised his voice.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Fan Jun reached up to cover his mouth. “I really don’t think that way. I’m just… personally feeling a bit awkward.”

“Awkward about what?” Zou Yang asked.

“It just feels like…” Fan Jun sighed softly. “You interrogating me like this makes it really… hard to put into words right now.”

“No one has ever forced you into a corner like this before, right?” Zou Yang smirked.

“Yeah,” Fan Jun admitted.

“Then take this time to get used to the feeling,” Zou Yang said. “If you don’t explain it clearly, nobody is sleeping. I’ve already slept for a full day and night anyway.”

“…Damn.” Fan Jun felt a bit annoyed and forcefully rubbed his face against the crook of Zou Yang’s neck.

“No use. I am completely devoid of that emotional state right now,” Zou Yang noted.

Fan Jun didn’t say anything, but a wave of laughter rippled through his chest.

“Speak up,” Zou Yang said, running his hand continuously up and down Fan Jun’s leg. “Fan Jun, your legs… they feel really nice.”

“Yours do too,” Fan Jun shot back.

“Talk. Stop changing the subject,” Zou Yang reminded him.

“Who changed the subject first?” Fan Jun lifted his head to flash him a quick glance, then buried his face right back into position. A long silence passed before he finally muttered, “It just feels… worrying too much about a boyfriend’s money seems a bit weird.”

“Your boyfriend is still a kid,” Zou Yang said. “It’s completely normal for you to worry about him, isn’t it?”

Fan Jun didn’t answer, but his arms tightened around him.

Even though Fan Jun couldn’t articulate it perfectly, Zou Yang fully understood what he meant.

Consequently, over the next stretch of days, unless a matter was absolutely critical, he didn’t ask Fan Jun to accompany him to handle the paperwork.

There wasn’t a massive amount of stuff to do anyway—he just had to sign a takeover confirmation document. The remaining legal steps had to wait until the civil compensation lawsuit concluded before everything could move forward. The final judgment would take about three full months to take effect.

Zou Tianrui’s aunt had called his phone, wanting to schedule a time to talk, but he refused immediately. Although he didn’t know exactly what she wanted, Zou Yang had zero desire to engage in any private contact with Zou Tianrui or her family.

He had no intention of wasting a single shred of personal energy on those matters anymore, choosing to simply wait for the timelines to hit and follow his attorney’s instructions exactly.

Besides, Fan Jun’s birthday was coming up fast. He had practiced writing a massive mountain of scripts, but he still hadn’t finalized a single official sheet.

Tsk.

“Are you starting the final version now?” Liu Wenrui propped his hands on the desk, staring intently at the paper cleanly laid out across the large central table in the dorm room.

“Yeah. The professional framing process takes about a full week, so it has to be completely finished today.” Zou Yang kept his eyes locked onto the paper.

“Beverages and snacks,” Zhang Chuanlong said, pushing open the door and carrying a bag full of food and drinks. “Bought and brought back.”

“What’s all this for?” Zou Yang asked.

“We’re going to eat snacks while we watch you and cheer you on.” Li Zhiyue jumped down from his bed, taking the snacks to arrange them neatly across Liu Wenrui’s desk.

“You guys are truly amazing,” Zou Yang said dryly.

“Well, our collective gifts are already completely ready,” Liu Wenrui noted. “I bet even Fan Jun’s gift is fully ready. You’re the only one who doesn’t have a finished product yet.”

“Shut up.” Zou Yang picked up his brush.

“It’s a total success!” Xiao Long shouted, clapping his hands together. “Take it out of the oven!”

Fan Jun checked the temperature readout on the constant-temperature oven; it had already dropped to 80°C. Slipping a pair of asbestos gloves over his hands, he used the adjacent crucible tongs to extract the mask from the chamber, placing it securely onto the workstation support bracket.

After going through the process of sandblasting and beeswax coating, the half-face mask looked incredibly refined compared to the moment the initial hammering had finished.

Although it kept the raw coloration of iron, the visual presentation looked exceptionally cool.

“It’s beautiful,” Fan Jun said, staring intently at the mask.

“Right?” Xiao Long stood with his hands on his hips. “Don’t you feel a massive sense of accomplishment?”

“Yeah,” Fan Jun nodded.

“He is absolutely going to love it,” Xiao Long asserted. “To be completely honest, if I were in his shoes, I’d cry.”

Fan Jun let out a gentle smile.

Whether Xiao Long would cry was up in the air, but Zou Yang had a very high probability of tearing up.

“Attach that chain component now,” Xiao Long prompted.

“Yeah.” Fan Jun pulled a short chain segment from a small cloth pouch. One end featured a tiny iron ring, which he hooked into the small hole punctured beneath the outer corner of the mask’s eye opening. The other end held a single olivine gemstone.

Zou Yang had told him before that this specific stone was his lucky charm.

The exact second the chain was attached, the entire mask instantly took on a dynamic, fluid vitality.

Fan Jun picked up the mask and lifted it directly before his eyes.

This birthday gift for Zou Yang was delayed by more than a full half-year.

But using his left hand—the one his mind had assumed would never recover—he had worked on it one hammer strike, one chisel mark at a time.

It was finally, completely finished.