Lin Jue, having done something wrong, was clearly feeling guilty — her eyes and expression both a little shifty. Thankfully, she couldn’t see the little golden dragon right now; otherwise, she probably would’ve shrunk back even more.

“I really don’t remember,” Lin Jue said. “I left home to travel when I was eighteen and only returned to the Lin family just before I turned thirty. I went to Sichuan several times in between — how could I possibly remember every little thing?”

As she said this, the little golden dragon looked somewhat aggrieved, though it stubbornly kept up its proud demeanor. “She’s lying. She definitely remembers.”

Zhou Jiayu said, “Shibo, the little golden dragon says you definitely remember…”

Lin Jue looked a bit anxious. She pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and after taking a puff, said with a weary, world-weary tone, “Can I get a hint?”

Zhou Jiayu glanced at the little golden dragon.

The little golden dragon said, “A hint — gold!”

Zhou Jiayu passed on the message.

“Gold?” Lin Jue scratched her head. “Wow, there’s so much gold stuff — how could I remember that?”

Zhou Jiayu gave her a reproachful look.

Lin Jue felt a little embarrassed. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re making me feel like I’m some kind of heartless player who breaks hearts and leaves.”

Aren’t you? Zhou Jiayu thought silently. And sure enough, as Lin Jue said this, the little golden dragon’s expression grew darker and darker until it finally broke down, wailing, “Liar! You liar—!”

The man who had brought them here immediately panicked when he saw the little golden dragon crying. “Don’t cry!”

Zhou Jiayu was wondering why he was so nervous when, the next moment, thunder rumbled overhead. The sky, which had been clear a moment ago, was suddenly filled with dark clouds, flashing with lightning. A torrential downpour was clearly about to fall.

“Shibo—” Zhou Jiayu called.

“I remember!!!” Lin Jue shouted suddenly. “You’re the little golden dragon that lived in the jar, right?”

Everyone: “……”

Zhou Jiayu covered his face in pain. Oh, Shibo, could you at least make up a more convincing lie? Everyone here already knows he lived in a jar.

As expected, the little golden dragon saw right through the lie. It burst into even louder sobs, and the rain came pouring down immediately. They were all soaked to the skin in an instant — even the always cool and composed Lin Zhushui was not spared.

If Lin Zhushui had felt like ice when they arrived, now he seemed like he was heading straight for absolute zero. Even Zhou Jiayu could sense that he was extremely, extremely angry.

“Lin Jue,” Lin Zhushui called her by her full name.

Lin Jue’s cigarette was extinguished, her makeup was smeared, and she looked utterly disheveled — but no one felt sorry for her. After all, it seemed like she really had played and abandoned the little golden dragon.

“I didn’t — I really didn’t!” Lin Jue wailed. “I seriously don’t remember—”

The little golden dragon just cried harder.

The man wiped the rain off his face miserably and said, “Now you all see why I help him mail his packages, right? If I don’t, every time I leave the house, it rains — thunderstorms, no less. My home Wi-Fi has been fried three or four times already.”

Zhou Jiayu looked at him with sympathy. But honestly, he didn’t have much energy left to sympathize — they all looked like drowned rats right now.

“Gold, gold — wait, I think I remember something!” Suddenly, as if struck by inspiration, Lin Jue’s eyes lit up. “You’re the little koi from the Golden Bamboo Palace, aren’t you?”

The little golden dragon’s crying stopped abruptly. In that instant, the dark clouds parted and the sky cleared. It wiped its tears away and happily circled around Lin Jue. “You finally remembered me!”

Zhou Jiayu wiped his face heavily, clearing away the water. “That’s the right answer.”

Lin Jue let out a long sigh of relief.

“Let’s go back and dry our clothes first,” she suggested, wringing out her sleeve, soaked from the sudden downpour.

“Okay,” Zhou Jiayu agreed. “Little golden dragon, are you coming with us?” He glanced over at the little dragon, which was flying circles around Lin Jue, wagging its tail so hard that it looked like a puppy.

“Sure, sure,” the little golden dragon replied cheerfully.

So they all went back to the man’s place to change clothes. On the way back, Zhou Jiayu finally learned that the man’s surname was Tan — Tan Feixing, twenty-five years old, born and raised here, hardly ever left the area.

“Golden Bamboo Palace is a local legend,” Tan Feixing said. “I never thought it was real.”

“What’s the legend exactly?” Zhou Jiayu sneezed.

“We live by the river, right? There’s a dock with stairs that lead down into the water. The story goes that if you’re fated, you can follow those stairs all the way down into an underwater palace — the Dragon King’s palace — filled with golden bamboo, which is why it’s called Golden Bamboo Palace,” Tan Feixing explained with a smile.

“Shibo, have you been there?” Zhou Jiayu asked Lin Jue.

“Not exactly,” Lin Jue sighed. “While traveling, I got close to the stairs. There, I met a little golden koi tangled in a fishing net. It looked so cute I secretly freed it. But I’ve heard of the Golden Bamboo Palace legend, of course.”

“That’s it?” Zhou Jiayu sounded doubtful.

“Haha,” Lin Jue laughed awkwardly. “That night I had a dream that I went to Golden Bamboo Palace and met a golden dragon who thanked me, gave me a dragon scale for protection, and told me to come back in a few years…”

“Did you ever go back?” Zhou Jiayu asked.

Lin Jue cleared her throat. “I was kind of wild back then. I didn’t take the dream seriously — of course I didn’t go back.”

“…And the dragon scale?” Zhou Jiayu pressed.

Lin Jue’s gaze wandered, not daring to answer.

The little golden dragon, who had just cheered up slightly, grew sulky again as it heard this. It crossed its tiny arms and puffed out its cheeks angrily. Thankfully, at least it wasn’t crying anymore — otherwise Zhou Jiayu suspected they’d get drenched again.

Back at the house, Shen Yiqiong and Yu Xiaomian were repairing the door. When they saw the four of them soaked to the skin, they were shocked. “Shibo, did you guys go swimming in the river or something?”

“Shen Yiqiong, shut up,” Lin Jue snapped. “Zhushui, hurry and dry us off.”

On the short walk back, Lin Zhushui’s clothes had already dried nearly completely. Hearing Lin Jue’s request, he ignored her and beckoned to Zhou Jiayu. “Come here.”

Zhou Jiayu obediently trotted over.

The next moment, a flame sprang from Lin Zhushui and leapt onto Zhou Jiayu. White steam rose from his clothes as they dried, becoming pleasantly warm — though maybe a little stiff. Still, better than being soaked.

Lin Jue knew Lin Zhushui was still angry, so she waited quietly until he dried everyone else first — she was last.

After learning the full story, Shen Yiqiong sighed. “So it really was the jar spirit’s doing.”

“Yeah,” Tan Feixing said bitterly. “Otherwise, where would I get the money to keep mailing all those weird packages…?”

“Hey, little golden dragon, where did you get all those bizarre things you mailed us?” Zhou Jiayu suddenly remembered the strange stuff in the boxes.

“They’re not weird!” the little golden dragon said. “They’re everywhere in the water. I just picked some at random.”

“What about that eyeball? Whose eye was that?” Zhou Jiayu asked.

“A fish’s!” the little golden dragon said earnestly. “Fish eyes are delicious. Didn’t you guys eat them?”

Zhou Jiayu: “…” No, thank you. Not only did we not eat them, they also cost us our appetite for dinner that day.

Only Zhou Jiayu and Tan Feixing could see the little golden dragon in the house. After drying her clothes, Lin Jue quickly set up a spell formation so she could see the one she owed an apology to.

Once the formation was done, everyone could see the adorable little golden dragon. Lin Jue’s eyes lit up with stars, praising it for being so cute.

The little golden dragon snorted proudly. “Of course I’m cute. Did you like those eyeballs?”

Lin Jue said, “Loved them to death.”

Standing nearby, Shen Yiqiong looked gloomy, clearly conflicted. Zhou Jiayu guessed he was struggling mentally — after all, just a moment ago he’d been rolling up his sleeves, ready to beat someone up. Finding out the troublemaker was a little dragon had obviously left him at a loss.

“Then why did you put curses and stuff in the gifts?” Shen Yiqiong asked.

The little golden dragon said, “If I hadn’t put a curse on the gifts, would you have come?”

Zhou Jiayu: “…” Honestly, even with the curse, we might not have come.

“I waited for you for such a long time,” the little golden dragon complained to Lin Jue. “You never came. Thankfully, I met him.” It glanced at Tan Feixing.

Tan Feixing’s expression was a little pained. Zhou Jiayu figured he must have been pestered by the little dragon every day.

“Um… so you waited just to thank me?” Lin Jue asked.

“No, I waited because I want to marry you,” the little golden dragon said seriously.

The room fell into a dead silence.

Lin Jue stared at the little golden dragon. “You’re this short, and you want to marry me—?”

Little golden dragon: “……”

The three people standing nearby very tactfully covered their mouths, pretending not to laugh, but their trembling shoulders gave them away.

The little golden dragon flared up instantly: “You’re looking down on me because I’m short??”

Lin Jue said, “No, no, no. What I meant is… you’re still so small.” She gestured with her fingers to show the little dragon’s length — indeed, the little dragon was no longer than ten centimeters, looking small and delicate and very cute.

“You’re looking down on me because I’m small??” the little golden dragon said.

Lin Jue: “…” Can we have a normal conversation for once? Why does everything sound like a dirty joke? And you three — laugh, laugh, laugh — what the hell are you laughing at?

The little golden dragon was clearly furious. It turned and flew out the window. Zhou Jiayu had no idea what it was going to do, but moments later, he saw the dragon’s body in the sky grow larger and larger — accompanied by wild, thunderous roars—

It was the first time Zhou Jiayu had ever seen a dragon. The little golden dragon’s body was now enormous, almost blotting out the sky. Its voice had changed from small and delicate to a deep, resonant male voice: “Lin Jue—”

Lin Jue shivered. “Why do I feel like someone’s calling me?”

Zhou Jiayu: “…” Oh no, Shibo. You’ve poked the dragon’s nest.

Lin Jue quickly looked at Lin Zhushui and said, “Shui, what do we do now?”

Lin Zhushui’s expression was extremely indifferent. “What else can you do? Marry him.”

Lin Jue: “……”

Zhou Jiayu kept telling himself don’t laugh, don’t laugh.

The golden dragon circled outside, fully displaying its length and girth, and only when it was satisfied did it shrink back down and return to the room. Lin Jue lit another cigarette and started smoking.

“What should I do?” Lin Jue asked again, this time looking at Shen Yiqiong and Zhou Jiayu.

Shen Yiqiong and Zhou Jiayu silently averted their gazes. Lin Jue let out a long sigh and puffed on her cigarette. “Jin, let me be honest with you. I already like someone else.”

The little golden dragon immediately flew into a rage. “Who do you like? I’ll eat him—”

Lin Jue said, “Wow, now I really don’t dare tell you. But feelings are about who comes first, and even though you’re very cute, humans and demons walk different paths…”

The little golden dragon started grinding its teeth.

“And I’m not as great as you think,” Lin Jue continued with every scumbag’s classic line. “I smoke, drink, have tattoos, and even go clubbing.”

Zhou Jiayu gave Lin Jue a disapproving look — What are you teaching the kid?

The little golden dragon fell silent.

“So… you deserve someone better,” Lin Jue said, pulling out the ultimate breakup line. “Forget about me. I’m not good enough for you.”

Unexpectedly, the little golden dragon said, “You’re right.”

Everyone was stunned. They hadn’t thought it would be so easy to fool him. The little golden dragon said, “I really should think this over.”

Lin Jue let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling she had finally settled the matter. Only Lin Zhushui had a faint, cold smile on his lips, as if he already foresaw something.

After saying this, the little golden dragon turned and flew out the window. Everyone watched its figure disappear, lost in thought.

“Shibo,” Shen Yiqiong said, “did we forget something important? Will it keep sending you gifts?”

Lin Jue said, “How would I know?”

It seemed like this whole mess had been resolved so easily — the clueless little golden dragon, cruelly rejected by Lin Jue, returned to its jar to wait endlessly for a fated person who would never come.

As Lin Jue sighed, she turned to Tan Feixing. “Kid, you’ve got an extraordinary look about you. Want to come with me? You’ve got a bright future ahead.”

Tan Feixing replied honestly, “If I couldn’t also see the little dragon, I’d think you were running some kind of pyramid scheme.”

Lin Jue: “……”

“But I’m really not crazy, huh?” Tan Feixing said happily — though his words somehow carried a trace of sadness. Smiling, he added, “I’ve seen things no one else can see ever since I was a kid. They always said I was crazy. But now it turns out there are others like me…” He looked at Zhou Jiayu, eyes full of excitement.

Zhou Jiayu patted his shoulder and told him that there were actually many people like him — he’d just been unlucky not to meet them before.

“Someone like you would be in high demand in our circle,” Lin Jue said. “If you trust me, come with us. We can open a whole new world for you.”

After hesitating a moment, Tan Feixing finally agreed to leave with Lin Jue. He seemed to be alone — no relatives, no friends. He was used to it, but sometimes he still felt lonely.

Meeting people like him — in a way — was a blessing.

So they sent the little dragon off and picked up a new person to take back with them. All in all, this trip hadn’t been in vain.

But Zhou Jiayu noticed that although Lin Jue had smiled the whole time when facing the little dragon, after getting into the car her face looked weary, her eyes a little dim — perhaps because seeing familiar scenes had reminded her of someone from the past.

Much later, Zhou Jiayu would learn that Lin Jue’s boyfriend from years ago had passed away from illness. They had been together for many years, seemingly destined to marry — but in life, things rarely go as planned.

After finishing everything, they prepared to head back.

Yu Xiaomian bought them a few packs of the local hotpot base and reluctantly reminded them to visit again when they had time.

Zhou Jiayu sniffled and promised they would.

“Guanner, are you catching a cold?” On the plane, Shen Yiqiong noticed Zhou Jiayu’s voice sounded off.

“Seems like it.” Zhou Jiayu’s throat had been sore and his nose stuffy since morning. “Maybe from getting caught in the rain yesterday.”

“Take some medicine when we get back. Don’t let it get worse,” Lin Jue reminded him.

Zhou Jiayu didn’t think much of it, assuming it was just a small cold. But the next day, he was not doing well — headache, nasal congestion, a swollen throat — his head felt like it had doubled in size.

He’d planned to get up and make breakfast to improve life a little, but when he stood, the room spun. Breakfast was out of the question.

“Guanner, what’s wrong?” Shen Yiqiong was startled when he saw Zhou Jiayu.

“A cold,” Zhou Jiayu rasped, struggling to breathe through his nose.

“Did you take medicine?”

Zhou Jiayu shook his head.

Shen Yiqiong immediately grabbed some medicine and made Zhou Jiayu take it. Today they had finally come home and had planned to enjoy a big meal together, but with their main chef Zhou Jiayu down, the rest of them — cooking rejects in the eyes of the kitchen god — were at a loss. In the end, Zhou Jiayu suggested he could at least sit nearby and instruct them while wearing a mask.

“Just half a spoon of salt… yeah, not too much water…” Zhou Jiayu croaked from behind his mask, bundled up in a thick sweater, looking like a little ball.

Lin Jue was worried about his health and told him not to overexert himself. Zhou Jiayu waved it off, saying it was just a cold — nothing serious.

But reality proved that some things truly couldn’t be ignored. That very afternoon, Zhou Jiayu’s cold worsened. He curled up on the couch in the living room, drowsy and half-asleep. Shen Yiqiong noticed that something was wrong with his complexion. When he touched Zhou Jiayu’s forehead, he was startled to find it burning hot.

“Guan’er, why is your forehead so hot?” Shen Yiqiong exclaimed in shock.

Zhou Jiayu murmured, “Ugh… headache.”

Shen Yiqiong yanked off Zhou Jiayu’s mask and saw that his entire face was flushed red. “I’m calling the doctor to come over right now — just wait a minute.”

The family doctor arrived quickly, took his temperature, and immediately reported it was 39.8°C. The doctor said it’d be best to give him an antipyretic injection — otherwise, the fever might not come down.

Zhou Jiayu could only nod in agreement.

As a result, he got jabbed both on his butt and the back of his hand. His whole head felt like it had turned to mush, and he lay in bed with a dazed, foolish look on his face.

Drifting in and out of sleep, Zhou Jiayu felt someone sit down beside him on the bed. Then something cool was gently pressed to his forehead, relieving the heat in his body.

Zhou Jiayu groggily opened his eyes — and saw a face he hadn’t expected. “…Sir.”

Lin Zhushui sat by Zhou Jiayu’s bed, his head slightly bowed. Though his eyes were closed, Zhou Jiayu had a distinct feeling of being quietly watched.

“Mm.” Lin Zhushui’s voice was low. “I’m here.”

“Sir…” Maybe it was because people always became emotionally fragile when sick, but upon seeing Lin Zhushui, Zhou Jiayu suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of grievance. “I don’t want to have a fever.”

“Be good, endure it a little longer,” Lin Zhushui said softly.

“I don’t want a fever,” Zhou Jiayu spoke with a heavy nasal voice; his nose was completely stuffed, his brain feeling foggy from lack of oxygen. “It’s miserable.”

Lin Zhushui gently pinched Zhou Jiayu’s cheek, his voice even softer: “Shall I stay with you?”

Zhou Jiayu was so dazed from the pinch that his sluggish mind hadn’t fully registered Lin Zhushui’s words — when he suddenly saw Lin Zhushui slowly lower his head, pressing his cool lips gently against Zhou Jiayu’s own.

The moment their lips touched, Zhou Jiayu’s eyes flew wide open. His already slow brain short-circuited completely, as if fireworks exploded behind his eyes. His whole body stiffened into wood from the unexpected gesture.

“Zhou Jiayu.” Lin Zhushui’s voice sounded beside his ear — so close, so clear. “I don’t want to wait anymore. Let me take care of you. Is that alright?”

Zhou Jiayu didn’t respond.

“Zhou Jiayu?” Lin Zhushui called his name again, his tone holding a hint of doubt upon not hearing an answer.

Still no response.

Lin Zhushui: “…” Just as he started to worry that Zhou Jiayu had passed out, the little fool on the bed suddenly came to life. Zhou Jiayu threw his arms around Lin Zhushui, trembling all over with excitement: “Sir, sir, I like you — I really like you!”

“Mm.” Lin Zhushui smiled gently, kissing the top of Zhou Jiayu’s soft hair.

“I really, really like you,” Zhou Jiayu babbled incoherently. “I’ll do whatever you want. Sir, does this mean… you like me too?”

Lin Zhushui said firmly, “Yes. I like you too.” His answer was crisp and clear, leaving no room for doubt, giving Zhou Jiayu the greatest reassurance. “You’re wonderful. Adorable. I like you very much.”

Zhou Jiayu’s heart swelled with indescribable joy. For the first time, he understood how blissful it was to be confessed to by the person you liked — so blissful it made his head spin and his words stumble.

“I’m not dreaming, right? This isn’t a dream, is it?” Zhou Jiayu asked. “Sir…”

“No,” Lin Zhushui replied. “I’m right here.”

Ecstatic, Zhou Jiayu jumped straight up from the bed — no more sore waist, no aching legs, no fever. It all vanished in an instant. Right now, he felt like he could run ten thousand meters outside.

Lin Zhushui let him enjoy his happiness. He could tell that in matters of the heart, Zhou Jiayu lacked confidence — always cautious and hesitant. This side of Zhou Jiayu made Lin Zhushui’s heart ache. But while feeling that ache, he also thought carefully — about what his feelings for Zhou Jiayu truly were.

Was it pity, affection, or merely the fondness between master and disciple? Lin Zhushui didn’t want to cause Zhou Jiayu greater hurt out of a moment’s impulse. So until he was sure of his feelings, he had been holding himself back.

But during this trip, when Lin Jue mentioned that Zhou Jiayu’s phone held someone else’s photo, Lin Zhushui realized — he didn’t want to wait anymore. Zhou Jiayu was the person he wanted to protect; he didn’t want to see anyone else lay a finger on his little fool. And so, leaving his mark on Zhou Jiayu became something he was determined to do.

Calmly and carefully, Lin Zhushui clarified his feelings — and acted with equal calmness.

Zhou Jiayu knew nothing of Lin Zhushui’s inner thoughts. He just sat on the bed grinning like an idiot, his mind filled with a single, overwhelming thought — Sir confessed to me. Sir likes me. Sir… Sir… Sir… His heart brimmed with joy, so full he wanted to shout it to the whole world.

__

Author’s Note:
Confession today — no skit this time.

Qing Temple on Qixinggang (Seven-Star Hill), bus 711, and Jinzhugong (Golden Bamboo Palace) are all real folk legends from Chongqing. Qixinggang was originally called Qixinggang (Seven-Star Jars), named after several large jars there. Later, because “jar” sounded inelegant, the name was changed to Qixinggang (Seven-Star Hill).

Big breakthrough, big breakthrough — the author humbly asks for some nutrient fluid as a reward~