Su Yiran thought for a moment and said, “I think it’s in the corner cabinet. Wait, I’ll go look.”

He got up and went to the bedroom to search. After a while, he came back with a slightly worn blue photo album. He patted the dust off the cover and said to Gu Yuanting, “It was buried at the bottom, all dusty. What do you want it for?”

Gu Yuanting took the album from his hand. “Just wanted to have a look.”
He wanted to see what Su Yiran looked like during his teenage years—those youthful days he never got to be part of.

Su Yiran grew interested too. He paused the TV and sat down next to him to flip through the album together.

Gu Yuanting opened the hardcover blue album. The first photo made his hand freeze mid-flip and his pupils shrink.

In the photo, Su Yiran and the original Gu Yuanting were wearing school uniforms, standing in front of the school gates. The background showed blooming pear trees and the school building. The two boys were smiling at each other.

Teenage Su Yiran looked just as Gu Yuanting imagined—cheeks still a little chubby with baby fat, soft and pure, full of youthful innocence.
His smile made his eyes curve into crescents, revealing a cute dimple on his right cheek—so obedient and sweet.

And that smile… was for the original Gu Yuanting.

Gu Yuanting: “…”

“Hey,” Su Yiran suddenly said. “Don’t flip the pages so hard.”
He reached out and took the album from Gu Yuanting’s hand, scolding, “You’re creasing the pages!”

He carefully smoothed out the wrinkled page, treating it like a treasure.

Gu Yuanting: “…”

Su Yiran glanced at the first photo. “This one was taken when we were in our second year of high school, right? I forget who took it. I think it was a candid shot.”

He began flipping through the album, recalling memories and chatting with Gu Yuanting.

Gu Yuanting noticed that the entire album was filled with photos of the two of them together—not a single solo picture.

He had to restrain the impulse to tear the entire album apart: “…”

He was beginning to think that wanting to look at the album was a ridiculous mistake.

There weren’t that many photos in total, so Su Yiran quickly reached the end. He sighed with regret, “We really didn’t have many pictures back then. What a shame we didn’t have smartphones.”
He meant smart ones—not the basic 2G phones.

Still flipping slowly, this time from the back to the front, Su Yiran was engrossed.

Gu Yuanting finally couldn’t take it anymore. He snatched the album from Su Yiran’s hands, shut it with a loud snap, and tossed it aside.

Su Yiran looked up at him in confusion—only to be suddenly pulled into a tight hug, as if Gu Yuanting wanted to crush him into his own body.

Gu Yuanting held him close, soaking in the weight and warmth of the person in his arms. He buried his face into Su Yiran’s neck and took a deep breath of his soft, sweet scent.

What’s past is past.
At least now, he belonged to him.
He told himself, trying to feel reassured.

—

Today, Su Yiran officially launched the store’s signature desserts.

This season’s featured treats were the soy milk box cake, the fresh lemon cheesecake, and his own creation—the rainbow crispy bean cake. The promotional brochures and digital posters prominently featured the soy milk box cake front and center.

He updated the shop’s official website, WeChat public account, and Weibo, heavily promoting the three new items. The soy milk box and lemon cheesecake were labeled as products learned from “Master Hua,” while the rainbow crispy bean cake was marked as his own innovation, with a note saying, “Hope everyone likes them!”

On Weibo, fans showed great interest in the new treats. Many dessert lovers reposted and started discussing them enthusiastically.

On launch day, the featured desserts were a hit. The soy milk box cake sold out quickly, and the other two were mostly gone by 3 PM.

Su Yiran also planned to hire some paid commenters to post as “random foodies” on local forums and food discussion threads to recommend the three new desserts.

At the same time, he intended to feature the soy milk box and lemon cheesecake in a livestream two days later.

Since these were new and exclusive, he wanted to keep the full recipes secret for now. He would only demonstrate the initial steps and show the finished product. The complete process would be shared later when the timing was right.

He also planned to pre-arrange a trending Weibo hashtag for “soy milk box cake” on the afternoon of the livestream. Buying a lower-ranked spot in the afternoon would be cheaper than evening rates, and he didn’t care about ranking—just wanted visibility.

With all this in mind and the store quiet, Su Yiran started his daily livestream.

After streaming for over an hour, he finished the two desserts and interacted with viewers, answering some questions before announcing the end of the stream.

The chat exploded in protest:

【Tears in my eyes, can you stream a little longer?】

【Sobbing. I haven’t had my fill of Yiyi. Just one hour again?! QAQ】

【No dog food today between you and Ting Ting… I’m not used to it.】

【+1 Not used to it. Am I a masochist… Suddenly scared.】

【Please don’t leave. Let’s chat more QAQ】

By now, viewers knew “Yiting” was a homophone mashup of Yiran (Yi) and Yuanting (Ting). They nicknamed him “Yiyi,” and Gu Yuanting was now affectionately called “Tingting.”

Su Yiran remembered teasingly calling Gu Yuanting “Tingting baby,” and how flustered and slightly blushing he had looked—he couldn’t help but chuckle.

He was just about to actually end the stream when a comment floated by:

【I really want to see your shop! Can you show us around? QAQ】

Then the flood came:

【Curious about your shop! Please show us!】

【Wanna see what it looks like inside!】

Since the store wasn’t busy and wasn’t very large, Su Yiran figured—why not?

He had posted pictures of the store once in his very first Weibo post, but it was buried way down his page. Hardly anyone had seen it.

He picked up his external webcam and turned it toward the front area. His phone was used to monitor chat messages.

He showed the viewers the backroom setup, then walked through the front area: counter, display cases, booth seating, and a functional zone. Occasionally, he added a short explanation. When he reached the booth seating, he carefully adjusted the angle to avoid filming two customers sitting there.

He angled the webcam to show the whole interior and started reading chat questions from his phone:

【Wow, such an aesthetic shop—clean, artistic, I love it.】

【This style is everything QAQ】

【What’s the “function area” used for?】

【All the desserts look so good, I’m drooling!】

【Will Yiyi ever livestream all the desserts from the shop?】

【I swear I can smell the sweetness through the screen…】

Su Yiran answered a few, but then a strange comment appeared:

【Am I the only one noticing the greenery? I swear I saw… lettuce??】

【I noticed it too…】

【Are my eyes playing tricks? Did I just see a pot of spinach…?】

Comments sped up—more and more people started noticing.

Su Yiran felt a little awkward. When he first opened the shop, he had moved some plants from his balcony to the store. But along with the flowers, he’d accidentally brought a couple pots of vegetables.
In particular, he’d brought lettuce, because it grew quickly—and sometimes when ordering takeout, he’d boil some fresh lettuce as a side.

There were originally four heads. He’d already eaten one.

He hadn’t expected the viewers to have such sharp eyes.

He cleared his throat and addressed the chat: “Just a little hobby—growing some veggies for fun. Planted them randomly.”

Chat exploded with laughter:

【A dessert shop growing vegetables?? I’m dying 😂】

【LMAO this is too weird, hilarious】

【Yiyi being weird again. Don’t forget he drinks goji berry tea every day hhhhh】

【Last time I saw American ginseng in his cup too…】

【Yiyi the elder in a young man’s body, legend confirmed】

【He grows veggies and drinks herbal teas—is this retirement life already?】

Su Yiran: “…”

The chat kept getting more chaotic, and everyone seemed delighted. Seeing them so happy, he didn’t have the heart to cut the stream right away.

But then it escalated again.

【Wait… look at the front counter. I can’t unsee it 😭】

【I saw it too… I didn’t dare say anything…】

【Been holding it in—what is that weird-looking thing on the counter?? Doesn’t match the vibe at all!】

Now everyone was talking about the ugly object on the counter.

Su Yiran quickly explained: “Ahem… that’s our store mascot. A handmade wooden carving—it spells out ‘Yiting’ in artistic calligraphy… Kinda ugly-cute, right? Haha…”

【Where’s the “cute” part?? I think I forgot what “cute” means…】

【Wait—those are words? I thought it was some weird animal.】

【Covering my eyes. I’ve never seen such an ugly carving…】

【LMAO weirdly shaped and crooked. I’m dying 🤣】

【I thought it was a sea cucumber…】

【I thought it was an octopus…】

Su Yiran: “…”
Hey! A little respect, please…

Then a more serious-sounding message came through:

【Wait a second… If I’m not mistaken, that’s agarwood rosewood, right? The highest grade: “Zi You Li.”】

A few viewers who knew about wood materials chimed in:

【Isn’t that violet sandalwood? Looks similar to agarwood. The previous commenter might be wrong.】

【Nope, definitely not mistaken. My family’s been in the rosewood business for decades. Zi You Li is top-tier agarwood. The grain is crystal clear, and the heartwood is reddish-purple. This is premium-grade material—goes for 40,000–50,000 yuan per pound. That carving weighs at least four pounds—it’s worth at least 200,000 yuan.】

That long technical comment sat on the screen for a good moment.

Everyone, including Su Yiran, was stunned.

He stiffly turned toward the inconspicuous, ugly wooden carving placed casually on the counter.

Two. Hundred. Thousand???

Gu. Yuan. Ting.