After resolving the situation at Jiang Xutao’s house, the rest of the trip turned into a beautiful vacation.

Everyone changed into relaxed clothes—T-shirts, shorts, flip-flops—perfect for the bright and sunny weather. Thanks to his unique constitution, Zhou Jiayu actually preferred summer, and the group booked a hotel near the sea and settled in.

However, after a day, Zhou Jiayu felt like something was missing. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure it out, so he asked everyone directly.

“Something missing?” Shen Yiqiong sipped an ice-cold beer, lounging in a beach chair. “Can’t think of anything.”

“Missing?” Lin Jue mumbled from where she was lying down. “No idea…”

Surprisingly, it was the little paper figure playing in the water nearby who suddenly piped up: “Where’s Xiao Huang?”

Everyone: “…”

Lin Jue immediately sat up straight, looking awkward. “Ah—I remember now. He should’ve arrived by now. I’ll give him a call and check where he is…”

Zhou Jiayu watched as Lin Jue made a phone call, murmuring a bunch of vague responses. The more she talked, the more awkward her expression became. After hanging up, she looked immensely guilty. “I’ve wronged Xiao Huang.”

“What happened?” Zhou Jiayu was startled. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Lin Jue said, “but the person who transported him thought he was just a regular weasel and fed him cat food for several meals.”

Everyone fell into silence.

Zhou Jiayu quietly looked away toward the blue coastline and muttered softly, “We’ve really done him wrong.”

A few hours later, Xiao Huang was delivered to them in a cage. The delivery person even warned Lin Jue to be careful because the weasel had a bad temper.

Lin Jue nodded respectfully. Only after the person left did she open the cage.

“CHITTER CHITTER CHITTER!!!” Xiao Huang burst out, screeching at the top of his lungs. If he could speak human language, probably 80% of his words would be curses hurled at them.

Lin Jue rushed to explain, “Xiao Huang, it’s not that we forgot you! The situation was too dangerous, and we didn’t want you to get hurt. We planned to bring you over after everything was taken care of, right, Guan’er?”

Facing Xiao Huang’s skeptical gaze, Zhou Jiayu replied with total calm, “Yes, it was really scary at the time… Shen Yiqiong, why don’t you tell Xiao Huang what happened?”

Shen Yiqiong was mid-sip and nearly choked on his beer. He coughed violently, then gave Zhou Jiayu and Lin Jue a deeply wronged look. But pity was useless—his shibo and shimu stared back at him, utterly cold and heartless.

“Fine.” Shen Yiqiong could only resign himself. “I’ll tell the tale.”

And thus began a dramatic recounting of their bone-house battle against malevolent spirits—so vivid and gripping it could have been a ten-thousand-word novella. Everyone, including Xiao Huang, listened with rapt attention. When he finally finished, Lin Jue even asked, “That’s it?”

Shen Yiqiong, tongue dry, slammed down his cup in exasperation: “That’s it!!”

“Oh.” Everyone looked genuinely disappointed.

Although Xiao Huang had been neglected for a few days, Shen Yiqiong’s story soothed his hurt feelings. He no longer obsessed over the cat food and happily went to play in the water with the little paper figure.

A weasel and a paper man frolicking at the seashore—it was a strangely healing sight. Of course, whether passersby found it healing was another matter entirely.

Blue skies, white clouds, the sea, soft sand, fresh seafood, and cold beer.

That night, Zhou Jiayu devoured five cheese-baked lobsters in one sitting. Stuffed to the point of nausea, he kept pouring beer down his throat.

Shen Yiqiong, meanwhile, was hopelessly addicted to salt-and-pepper grilled shrimp. But even while feasting, he reminded Zhou Jiayu to take it easy with the alcohol, since his drinking tolerance was… problematic.

“I used to have a great tolerance,” Zhou Jiayu slurred, clearly drunk. “Could drink three jin of baijiu, crates of beer…”

“What did you used to do?” Lin Jue asked, propping her chin up with a grin.

“I was a civil servant,” Zhou Jiayu mumbled. “A really good one…”

Everyone burst out in knowing laughter. Lin Jue smiled with her eyes. “Not bad at all.”

Zhou Jiayu was clearly drunk beyond sense. Clutching his phone, he started declaring he missed his man and wanted to call him.

Lin Jue, who’d been watching with interest, finally couldn’t resist. She took the phone from his hand, dialed a number, and put it on speaker.

“Hello.” After two rings, a calm yet gentle voice came through—Lin Zhushui’s. “Guan’er.”

“Sir, sir!” Zhou Jiayu shouted excitedly the moment he heard the voice.

“Hmm?” Lin Zhushui immediately picked up on something. “Have you been drinking?”

“Nooo,” Zhou Jiayu slurred. “I just… wanted to talk to you.” He giggled to himself, then added a little pitifully, “Haven’t seen you in days. Miss you.”

Lin Zhushui was silent for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. His voice held a helpless sort of fondness: “I’ll be back tomorrow. You’re in S City, right? Did everything go smoothly? Were you scared?”

Zhou Jiayu puffed up with pride and declared that he hadn’t been scared at all.

The two chatted back and forth, the air filled with sugary couple vibes.

Eventually, Shen Yiqiong couldn’t take it anymore. He slunk off to a corner, hugged the little paper figure, and quietly wept, saying he also wanted to fall in love like that. The little paper man, understanding his pain, gently tugged a few strands of his hair to comfort him.

The more Lin Jue listened, the more she smiled. She chimed in, “Your Guan’er kept saying how much he missed you.”

Lin Zhushui didn’t sound surprised. “You called?”

“How did you know?” Lin Jue was confused.

“He’s too much of a wimp,” Lin Zhushui replied. “Even drunk, I doubt he’d dare call me himself.”

Lin Jue laughed. “You never know.”

So while everyone else kept eating and drinking into the night, Zhou Jiayu stayed curled up with his phone, chatting endlessly. Normally, he was a bit reserved around Lin Zhushui due to nervousness, but the alcohol had dulled that, and now he was lively and open.

Later that night, when everyone went back to their rooms to sleep, Zhou Jiayu lay his now-overheating phone next to his pillow. Drowsily, he mumbled to Lin Zhushui on the other end, “I’m sleepy…”

“Go to sleep,” Lin Zhushui said. “See you tomorrow.”

Zhou Jiayu’s eyelids slowly closed, and he drifted off to sleep. The call remained connected even after he’d fallen asleep—no one knew when it was finally ended.

The next day, Zhou Jiayu woke up feeling like a stiff log—his whole body was numb. He sat up and discovered that his phone had shut off due to low battery. Sunshine poured through the window; it was already midday.

He vaguely remembered calling Lin Zhushui but couldn’t recall the details.

Hungover and groggy, he washed up and left his room. Outside, some of the others were swimming in the pool, while some sunbathed nearby.

As Zhou Jiayu walked over, he saw Shen Yiqiong getting sunscreen applied by the little paper figure, who was doing the job quite seriously. When the paper man saw Zhou Jiayu, he happily called out, “Papa!”

“Little Paper,” Zhou Jiayu groaned, rubbing his head. “How much did we even drink last night?”

Shen Yiqiong said, “Six or seven crates.”

“Six or seven crates?!” Zhou Jiayu exclaimed.

“You passed out after three bottles,” Shen Yiqiong said with disdain. “The rest was all us.”

Zhou Jiayu: “…” Well, poor drinking tolerance wasn’t exactly his fault.

He wasn’t the only one suffering, though. Judging from their faces, Shen Erbai and Shen Musi were also in the throes of a brutal hangover.

That’s the magic of vacation—you can completely empty your brain, do nothing, think of nothing, and pretend you’re a directionless salted fish.

Zhou Jiayu wandered off to the beach and dug a hole to bury himself, leaving only his face exposed. To prevent sunburn, he even had the little paper figure prop up an umbrella over his head to block UV rays.

The sand wasn’t cold—instead, it was warm from the sun, with traces of seawater making it soft and clingy in a comforting way.

As Zhou Jiayu lay there, the light in front of him suddenly dimmed. He opened his eyes slightly and saw someone standing in front of him, silhouetted by the sun.

That person gently called his name: “Zhou Jiayu.”

The moment Zhou Jiayu heard that voice, it felt like an electric shock ran through him, tingling all the way to his heart.

“Sir.” He was still buried and couldn’t get up right away, so he started wiggling to free himself.

But Lin Zhushui knelt in the sand beside him. “Don’t move.”

Zhou Jiayu stilled. He watched Lin Zhushui’s face draw closer and closer, until there were only a few centimeters between them. His voice was soft as he asked, “Did you close your eyes?”

“I did,” Zhou Jiayu fibbed.

Lin Zhushui’s lips landed on him the next second—first his forehead, then his nose, and finally, his lips, tasting faintly of the sea.

Zhou Jiayu’s heart was pounding. He adored the subtle sandalwood scent between Lin Zhushui’s lips—elegant, gentle, with a hint of sharp coldness.

The kiss deepened, their breathing grew ragged. Zhou Jiayu, moved by emotion, finally wiggled his hands free from the sand, though he didn’t dare hug Lin Zhushui with sandy fingers. He simply propped himself up and kissed back.

When the kiss ended, Lin Zhushui’s lips were a beautiful rosy red, making his fair skin look even more like jade—an impossibly gorgeous man.

“Did you really close your eyes?” Lin Zhushui asked again.

Zhou Jiayu didn’t understand why he was so fixated on this. “Why does it matter?”

Lin Zhushui went quiet.

Just when Zhou Jiayu thought he wouldn’t answer, Lin Zhushui said, “The book said if you kiss with your eyes open, you’ll think the other person isn’t attractive.”

Zhou Jiayu: “…” Another book from his master, huh?

He chuckled and said sincerely, “Sir, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen—close up or from far away.”

Lin Zhushui furrowed his brows, clearly not convinced.

Zhou Jiayu pressed his forehead to Lin Zhushui’s and whispered, “Your eyes, nose, lips… they’re like they were sculpted. So perfect.”

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” Lin Zhushui murmured.

Zhou Jiayu was stunned. He’d never thought about it, but it made sense—Lin Zhushui had been blind since childhood. Gifted and aloof, people around him likely never dared to compliment his looks casually. Maybe he had never realized how attractive others found him. Thinking about that, Zhou Jiayu once again felt like he’d struck gold.

“They’re all afraid of me,” Lin Zhushui said quietly. “Weren’t you afraid at first too?”

Well, he had a point. Lin Zhushui’s icy aura had been intimidating at first. But after getting to know him, Zhou Jiayu found that he wasn’t that cold—sometimes, he was even adorable.

“I’m not scared anymore,” Zhou Jiayu said with a smile.

After gently nodding, Lin Zhushui reached out and grabbed Zhou Jiayu’s arm, pulling him out from the sandpile. The two of them then headed back to the hotel, one after the other.

At the hotel, Lin Jue greeted them with a bright smile. “Back already?”

“Mm.” For some reason, Zhou Jiayu felt a little embarrassed facing Lin Jue’s grin. Although his expression stayed neutral, the tips of his ears turned red again. He asked calmly, “When did Sir get back?”

“Him?” Lin Jue laughed heartily. “He just arrived. Dropped off his luggage and went straight to look for you.”

Zhou Jiayu responded with a soft “Oh.”

Covered in sand, Zhou Jiayu decided to take a shower first. When he came out, everyone was already discussing dinner plans. They finally agreed to rent a grill from the hotel and do a barbecue themselves.

“Guan’er, didn’t you say your grilled meat is amazing?” Shen Yiqiong said eagerly. “I’ve been looking forward to it for ages—this is the perfect chance!”

“Sure,” Zhou Jiayu agreed.

So they began preparing the food and grill. Zhou Jiayu said he had a great marinade recipe—after slicing the meat, you mix in honey and seafood soy sauce, and the flavor is fantastic.

Shen Yiqiong, drooling on the side, chimed in, “Shiniang, whatever you make, we love it.”

Zhou Jiayu laughed helplessly at that, but the comment reminded him of how Lin Jue once joked about live-streaming eating Shen Yiqiong. If Shen Yiqiong had a flavor, Zhou figured it was probably chocolate.

Once the charcoal was burning and the ingredients were ready, Zhou Jiayu—now wearing an apron—stood by the grill. Though the sun was strong, the temperature wasn’t too high. Standing in the shade cooled things down quickly.

Shen Yiqiong and Little Paper stood nearby with plates in hand, practically drooling. When the first piece of meat was done, they shared it and nearly teared up from how good it was.

Zhou Jiayu thought their reactions were a bit over the top, but as a cook, seeing people enjoy your food that much was still very rewarding.

“What happened this time?” Lin Zhushui asked casually after trying a piece of grilled meat and showing a satisfied expression.

“It was a house full of bones,” Lin Jue replied, drinking her beer casually. “Nothing serious, really. Pretty chill.” Then she suddenly remembered she’d lied about it earlier and quickly glanced at the weasel beside her. Sure enough, the petty Xiao Huang was glaring at her with those bean-sized black eyes, clearly reminding her of her fib.

“Ahem, well…” Lin Jue coughed and quickly amended, “There were some twists.”

Of course, Lin Zhushui could hear the shift in her tone, but he didn’t press further. He simply said, “As long as no one was hurt. But next time, ask me first before taking them out on missions—we don’t want any accidents.”

Lin Jue nodded in agreement, then asked where Lin Zhushui had gone.

Lin Zhushui’s answer caught everyone off guard. “I went to find Xu Jinghuo.”

“What? Xu Jinghuo?” Lin Jue immediately straightened up. “Did you find him?”

Lin Zhushui nodded.

“Did he say anything?”

Lin Zhushui tapped the table with his fingers and said, “He refused to talk.”

Resting her chin on her hand, Lin Jue said, “He’s from the Xu family. His motives are definitely questionable, and I’m sure someone else is behind him. But I don’t get why he’s still keeping quiet. The Xu family’s gone—what’s he trying to protect?”

Lin Zhushui didn’t reply and simply shook his head.

“Forget it, let’s not talk about him,” Lin Jue raised her glass. “We’re on vacation. Let’s enjoy it.”

The disciples all echoed the sentiment, and Zhou Jiayu joined in for a drink too.

However, since he drank too much the previous day, he took it easy this time and only sipped a little.

The barbecue feast was a hit. After everyone ate their fill, night had already fallen. The seaside wasn’t quiet—waves rolled onto the beach, and the salty breeze helped soothe the soul.

Lin Zhushui, who’d also had some wine, smelled faintly of alcohol. He sat beside Zhou Jiayu and gently asked if he wanted to take a walk by the beach.

Zhou Jiayu agreed happily. Lin Zhushui took his hand, and the two of them strolled toward the shoreline, leaving a group of envious singles behind.

“They’re making me want to fall in love too,” Lin Jue muttered, gulping down another mouthful of alcohol.

“Me too,” Shen Yiqiong said, looking sad and tipsy. “I don’t want to wait till I’m seventy-three to fall in love—I’ll be all wrinkled by then…”

“Forget it, don’t bring it up—cheers!” Lin Jue raised her glass again.

Meanwhile, Zhou Jiayu walked barefoot along the shoreline, soft sand tickling his toes. He didn’t speak much with Lin Zhushui, but the silence between them felt sweet and peaceful. Zhou Jiayu glanced at Lin Zhushui’s profile and felt like his heart was a fizzy tablet in water—bubbling nonstop.

“Are you looking at me?” Somehow, Lin Zhushui sensed Zhou Jiayu’s gaze.

“Mm.” Zhou Jiayu was a little embarrassed but admitted it. “Sir, you’re very good-looking.” After a pause, he added softly, “No matter how long I look, it’s never enough.”

Lin Zhushui suddenly stopped walking. He turned slightly and said very seriously, “What should I do if I want to kiss you again?”

Zhou Jiayu was caught off guard by the straightforward confession. After a moment’s pause, his ears turned red and he quietly answered, “Mm.”

That night, when Zhou Jiayu returned to his room, his lips were already a little swollen. He lay in bed, rolling around nonstop.

Little Paper looked at him with a puzzled expression and asked, “Papa, are you feeling sick?”

“My silly child,” Zhou Jiayu hugged Little Paper, rubbing his forehead against him. “I’m just too happy!”

Little Paper tilted his head, still not understanding.

Zhou Jiayu didn’t explain. He just hummed a tune and patted his head. “It’s okay. You’re still young. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

But then a new worry crept in—now that all the paper people were gone from She Mountain, only Little Paper was left. What would happen when Little Paper came of age and wanted a wife? Whether it was the alcohol or something else, Zhou Jiayu grew sentimental, thinking about his past life and all the friends he’d left behind. He felt a sudden longing to go back and visit if possible.

With that thought, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Vacation time always flies by. The group stayed in S City for about ten days before reluctantly returning home—it was almost New Year.

“Gotta get back and stock up for the holidays,” Lin Jue said. “I’m making rice cakes this year… Guanyer, do you know how to make them?”

Zhou Jiayu said, “I know the process but never tried it myself. Why the sudden interest?”

“Just a whim,” Lin Jue shrugged.

Zhou Jiayu thought she was acting a little strange but didn’t dig deeper.

By January, the festive spirit was everywhere. Red window decals decorated the glass, and bright red lanterns hung under the eaves.

When Lin Po arrived early to offer New Year greetings, he found Zhou Jiayu dozing in Lin Zhushui’s arms. Lin Zhushui had wrapped him in a blanket and was listening to something on his earphones.

Startled by the scene, Lin Po nervously greeted, “Uncle…”

It was as if Lin Zhushui knew exactly what Lin Po was thinking. Without lifting his head, he leaned down and kissed Zhou Jiayu’s cool earlobe. “Wake up. Sleep too long and you won’t sleep at night.”

Zhou Jiayu mumbled a response but didn’t move.

Lin Zhushui seemed a bit helpless, but instead of pushing him, he raised a finger to his lips and gestured for Lin Po to keep quiet.

So Lin Po had no choice but to quietly sit on the nearby couch and wait for Zhou Jiayu to wake up naturally. Fortunately, Zhou Jiayu was sensitive to his surroundings and woke up soon after. Seeing Lin Po, he felt a little embarrassed and tried to sit up, but Lin Zhushui gently pressed him back down and patted his back. “Put on your clothes first, don’t catch a cold.”

Zhou Jiayu replied with an “Mm” and started putting on his jacket under the blanket.

Watching the whole thing, Lin Po’s face stiffened. In a dry voice, he said, “Uncle…”

Lin Zhushui said directly, “He’s your uncle too now.”

Lin Po: “…”

“Any objections?” Lin Zhushui asked.

Lin Po could only reply in a dazed voice, “Hi… Uncle Zhou.”

Zhou Jiayu struggled to keep from laughing, but his face turned fond and gentle as he said, “Good boy. Uncle will cook something nice for you.” Then he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Lin Po’s smile was even more forced than a frown. It was clear he’d need a long time to process how Lin Zhushui had suddenly… switched teams.

__

Author’s Note:
Little Paper has clothes! Shen Yiqiong makes them by cutting paper, like making doll clothes when you’re a kid. Sometimes he gets creative and makes him a little bowtie or a hat, too.