The light rain drizzled down, its damp, metallic scent blending with the aroma of street food, spreading throughout the entire night market. This kind of dreary weather typically meant fewer customers, but the ever-diligent Li Wenshui still set up his stall.

Today, when he arrived at his spot, he noticed a new addition beside him—a high-end food truck. While most vendors used tricycles, this food truck was a remodeled mini RV, taking up half of Li Wenshui’s stall space. Annoyed, he walked over and knocked on the window. Inside, a young man wearing oversized headphones was engrossed in a video game and didn’t even glance at him.

The longer Li Wenshui stood in the rain, the more soaked he became, and his patience quickly wore thin. He knocked harder, the window rattling loudly under his hand. The young man yanked off his headphones, rolled down the window, and irritably asked, “What do you want?”

“You’re taking up my stall. Move your car,” Li Wenshui said, even more frustrated.

“Am I? Let me check. Wait a moment,” the young man replied before slamming the window shut.

The rain wasn’t heavy, but its cold, sticky droplets were uncomfortable on his skin. Irritation flickered across Li Wenshui’s usually pleasant face. Without waiting any longer, he yanked the car door open, startling the young man inside.

“Hurry up and move your car! I don’t have all night to wait for you!” Li Wenshui snapped, glaring at him.

Arguments over stall space weren’t uncommon in the night market, and nearby vendors craned their necks to watch the commotion. The night market manager quickly rushed over and pulled Li Wenshui aside, whispering, “Wenshui, don’t mess with him. That’s the boss’s young master. He’s just here to experience life for a night—he’ll leave tomorrow. Don’t make him move. Look, there’s a spot next to yours. Can you set up there for now? Do me a favor, will you?”

Glancing back at the young man, who had resumed his game without a care, Li Wenshui knew he couldn’t afford to offend the boss’s son. Frustrated but resigned, he pushed his cart to another spot.

It was still early, and the rain had kept most customers away. Feeling hungry, Li Wenshui made himself a bowl of instant noodles and scrolled through his social media feed while eating. His friends all seemed to lead glamorous lives, posting pictures of stylish outfits, fancy dinners, and exciting trips. Comparing his own situation—instant noodles, a battered tricycle, and muddy canvas shoes—he felt a pang of bitterness.

His mood soured further when he glanced over at the young master next door, gaming and cursing his teammates without a care for attracting customers. Meanwhile, Li Wenshui was silently praying for the rain to stop so he could sell his cakes and go home. The stark contrast in their lives filled him with envy and frustration.

Spurred by his emotions, he posted on his social media:
“RV road trip vibes [peace sign]”
The accompanying photo was of a sleek RV he had found online.

This wasn’t the first time Li Wenshui had posted something like this. Whenever he saw something nice, he’d save the image and post it on his social media, pretending it was his own. He envied those who owned such things, but he also genuinely yearned to have them. Since he couldn’t, he found solace in pretending. He was both vain and unapologetically honest about his desires.

After posting, the response was lackluster—barely a few likes. Disheartened, he navigated to his chat with Liang Jin. Their last conversation was ten days ago, when he had told Liang Jin he was going to tend to the flowers at the old house. Liang Jin hadn’t replied.

Scrolling further up, Li Wenshui noticed that most of their chats were one-sided. Liang Jin rarely responded to his messages, even though he was talkative in person. Why was he so aloof on WeChat?

Unlike Liang Jin, Li Wenshui was a chatterbox online. His feed was always active, and he had an insatiable urge to share even the smallest of updates. He used to send these updates to Lin Yumuo, but somewhere along the way, he’d started sending them to Liang Jin instead—a change he hadn’t even realized himself.

Li Wenshui: “Liang Jin, I’m going to the old house tomorrow.”

—No response.

Getting no reply to a single message was normal; Li Wenshui was used to it.

Li Wenshui: “Some spoiled young master set up next to my stall today, playing games instead of selling anything. No manners. People like him should get a taste of society’s storms! Totally deserves a beating!”

Much later, the young master muttered to his friends, “I’m done playing. Let’s go to the arcade tomorrow!”

At the same time, a notification popped up on Li Wenshui’s phone.
Liang Jin: “Weren’t you off on an RV road trip?”

Typical of Young Master Liang, always teasing.

Slurping his instant noodles, Li Wenshui pretended not to see Liang Jin’s comment. Instead, he typed back with one hand: “Why did you take so long to reply? What were you up to?”

To be honest, Li Wenshui had never deeply thought about their transactional relationship. Did he even have the right to question Liang Jin in such a tone? Why hadn’t he replied? What had he been doing? But even if he thought about it, he wouldn’t have understood. This was his first time navigating such a relationship—he had no experience, no idea where the boundaries lay.

Still, whenever he asked, Liang Jin usually gave some kind of reason. Most of the time, it was that he forgot to check or didn’t hear the notification. Today’s reason?

Liang Jin: “Gaming.”

Li Wenshui couldn’t help but think about how leisurely the idle, privileged lives of wealthy third-generation heirs were.

The rain had stopped, and the young master in the RV finally came out to stretch his legs. Wandering over to Li Wenshui’s stall, he wrinkled his nose at the cakes on display. “These cakes won’t give me food poisoning, will they?”

Li Wenshui rolled his eyes at him.

“I’m Wei Sibai. And you?”

Ignoring him, Li Wenshui sent a message to Liang Jin: “This annoying young master is way too freindly for someone I just met.”

Wei Sibai, undeterred, hummed a little tune as he wandered to the front of the tricycle, where a framed photo hung from the handlebars. Curious, he picked it up and asked, “Who’s this to you?”

Li Wenshui immediately set his phone down and snatched the photo away. “Don’t touch that!”

“Whoa, no need to get so worked up. She just looked familiar, so I asked. Forget it if you don’t want to say,” Wei Sibai said.

His words made Li Wenshui pause. “She’s my mom. Have you seen her before?”

Li Wenshui had printed the photo and hung it there in the hopes that one of his customers might recognize her. His mother had run away when he was ten. Thirteen years had passed since then, and he wasn’t even sure if she would recognize him now—or if she’d even want to. Still, he couldn’t let go of the need to search for her.

If he did find her, what would he say? What would happen next? Li Wenshui had no idea. He didn’t even know why he was so determined to find her. Maybe it was because the mother he remembered was so warm and kind. A child who had never received love spent their entire life searching for it, clinging to even the smallest bit of warmth.

“Your mom?” Wei Sibai gave him a once-over, his cheap clothing and worn shoes catching his eye. Wei quickly dismissed the thought—there was no way the wealthy woman he knew could have a son like this. “Never seen her.”

“Oh.” Li Wenshui wasn’t disappointed. He knew how difficult it was to find someone in a sea of strangers.

His phone vibrated. He opened WeChat to see a message from Liang Jin:
“Baby, I’m craving crab roe buns.”

Li Wenshui huffed in frustration. When Liang Jin didn’t need anything, he wouldn’t call him “baby,” but the moment he wanted something, it was all “baby this” and “baby that!”

But Li Wenshui still went to the market to buy a few hairy crabs. Hairy crabs were expensive—five of them cost him 200 yuan. After two hours of effort, he managed to make six crab roe buns. He kept three for his sister and three for Liang Jin. Early the next morning, he went to the old Liang family estate.

If he remembered correctly, today was the day the evaluation results would be revealed.

The Liang family estate looked different today. Many cars were parked outside the gates, and a housemaid told him it was the final day of the “Yiku Yue^[1]Month of Hardship Remembrance” and also the family banquet day. Close friends of the family patriarch would be attending with their families.

When Wenshui entered Liang Jin’s room, it was empty—Liang Jin wasn’t there. He placed the crab roe buns in the microwave and noticed a few worn clothes scattered on the bed. Feeling compelled, he decided to wash them.

Just as he opened the washing machine, he recalled Liang Jin saying that his clothes couldn’t be machine-washed. His hands paused. Instead, he grabbed a washbasin from the bathroom, filled it with water, and began soaking the clothes.

Rolling up his sleeves, he carried the basin to the courtyard and started hand-washing the clothes. As he scrubbed, he thought to himself, This time I got it right—no machine washing. Maybe I can hint to Liang Jin for a reward. It’s been so long since he gave me one.

Rewards were Wenshui’s motivation, and he was scrubbing with enthusiasm when someone entered the courtyard. Startled, he looked up and met the person’s eyes. Both were surprised.

“Weird, aren’t you the guy from the food stall yesterday? What are you doing here at Jin Ge’s place?” Wei Sibai exclaimed. Noticing what Wenshui was doing, he suddenly understood. “Oh, so you’re a servant here?”

“Well, perfect timing,” Wei Sibai said arrogantly, removing his jacket and holding it out. “Help me wash this too.”

Wenshui didn’t take it. He stood, shook the water off his hands, and said, “I’m not a servant here.”

“What are you, then?” Wei Sibai muttered, assuming Wenshui’s refusal was out of spite.

Just then, the main door opened again. Wei Sibai’s eyes lit up when he saw Liang Jin. His cheeks flushed slightly as he ran over, hooking an arm around Liang Jin’s wrist and pointing at Wenshui indignantly. “Jin Ge, your servant won’t wash my clothes and even glared at me!”

Wenshui stared at Wei Sibai’s arm around Liang Jin, his expression darkening as an uncomfortable feeling rose in his chest. The number of wildflowers around Liang Jin is ridiculous. Who is this Wei Sibai? A fling? An ex-boyfriend? Or someone Liang Jin hooked up with while I was away?

Liang Jin’s gaze fell on Wenshui’s face, his expression calm and composed. Turning to Wei Sibai, he smiled. “He’s not a servant, so of course, he can’t wash your clothes. If you need something washed, ask Uncle Chen.”

Then, he turned back to Wenshui. “You’re here so early today? What did you bring me?” he asked, his eyes curving into a smile.

Wei Sibai, confused, asked, “Jin Ge, if he’s not a servant, then who is he? Funny coincidence, though—I was next to him at the food stall yesterday.”

Liang Jin chuckled. “Why don’t you take a guess?”

Effortlessly navigating the subtle tension, Liang Jin answered in a way that left both Wenshui and Wei Sibai still unsure about each other’s relationship with him.

With a wink at Wenshui, Liang Jin added, “This cheeky young master is the grandson of one of the old man’s close friends.”

Wei Sibai protested, “Cheeky young master? Who are you calling cheeky?”

Wenshui coughed lightly, recalling that the nickname was something he had jokingly called Wei Sibai during his chat with Liang Jin the previous day.

Though Liang Jin’s words seemed to answer, they also left everything unanswered. Neither Wenshui nor Wei Sibai could determine exactly what kind of relationship the other had with Liang Jin.