Chapter 4

Not long after, Aunt Lan, who managed the household, came to invite them for dinner.

Xiang Feiran tossed the cigarette butt into a can of cola with just a little left: “I already said no, I’m not going.”

Aunt Lan seemed hesitant: “Suining just arrived, and she has her guests.”

Xiang Feiran lowered his eyelashes, his fingertips tapping the aluminum can as he thought. After a moment, he raised the corners of his lips slightly: “Then I definitely won’t go.”

He was indeed hungry. After spending a week in the mountains, living on cans and instant curry to the point of feeling sick, he really missed the delicious soup from the kitchen.

But with the little girl who called him “uncle” there, his identity would be exposed the moment he showed up. It’s a small matter to explain, but it’s awkward for both parties. As always, he had no interest in dealing with such scenes, so avoiding them was the most straightforward solution. At most, he’d avoid her for half a month.

—

When visiting from afar, Shang Mingbao thoughtfully prepared gifts for all the members of Fang Suining’s family and delivered them one by one before dinner.

Although they had only recently become friends, their relationship had warmed quickly, and Fang Suining kept holding her hand, introducing her. This was her maternal grandfather’s home. Her grandmother had passed away, and her grandfather lived there alone, accompanied only by an assistant and household staff. The deep mountain, with its hot springs and clear streams, was very quiet and inconvenient to travel to, so she only visited during the winter and summer vacations.

As dinner was about to begin, Fang Suining’s grandfather took the elevator down from his study on the third floor. He was elderly, with neatly managed white hair, looking scholarly and distinguished. His legs seemed affected by an old ailment, not very agile, and he leaned on a cane. Few people knew that this was an injury sustained when Xiang Lianqiao was hit by a stray bullet during a rescue operation. It hadn’t been serious when he was younger, but now with age, it began to cause persistent pain.

“What does your grandfather do?” Shang Mingbao couldn’t help but be curious. Her grandfather was the kind of elder whose every move commanded attention.

“He teaches,” Fang Suining said. “He teaches international relations and political science at the university. But now that he’s older, he can’t stand for long periods, so he’s retired and is writing books.”

After Xiang Lianqiao stepped down from his position, he dedicated himself to teaching, writing, and mentoring students, so Fang Suining wasn’t lying. She had been instructed by her elders not to casually talk about her family background with classmates or friends to avoid complicating simple interpersonal relationships.

Shang Mingbao always had great respect for knowledgeable people and couldn’t help but think of the person in the front passenger seat—there was a subtle similarity between him and Xiang Lianqiao.

Shang Mingbao spread the napkin over her lap and casually asked, “Does your uncle live here too?”

“My uncle?” Fang Suining was taken aback, trying to sort out the complex Chinese family relations and thinking Shang Mingbao must have mixed up things. “You must mean my maternal uncle. My mother has an older brother.”

Mingbao nodded along, “Oh, right, so that would be your maternal uncle.”

The conversation took a turn from here.

“Oh, him.” Fang Suining showed undisguised disdain, “He’s not impressive. I rarely see him. Did you run into him?”

“On the way here…” Shang Mingbao responded vaguely.

The murmuring of the two girls didn’t escape Xiang Lianqiao’s ears. He lightly tapped his cane, and although he didn’t say anything, Fang Suining immediately fell silent, sticking her tongue out and burying her face in her bowl.

Shang Mingbao keenly sensed the underlying meaning: that person was not someone welcomed or freely discussed.

After a few concerned words with the younger generation, Xiang Lianqiao called over his assistant, “Is Feiran not coming for dinner?”

The assistant replied, “Feiran said he would come to see you later.”

Shang Mingbao took a small sip of the fish maw soup and quietly asked, “Who is Feiran again?”

“He’s my cousin,” Fang Suining leaned in to answer, “The son of that maternal uncle.”

“Feiran… what are the characters?”

Fang Suining dipped her finger in some tea and wrote on the table for Shang Mingbao to see: “The same in both simplified and traditional characters. You know it, right?”

Mingbao nodded, recognizing the name.

It seemed like a name that would never grow old.

After Fang Suining finished writing, she turned to Xiang Lianqiao, with a hint of excitement, and asked, “Grandpa, has Brother Feiran been here for a long time?”

“Half a month earlier than you.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Fang Suining pouted in protest.

Xiang Lianqiao remained calm, “He specifically asked me to keep it from you. A gentleman’s promise is a promise; I can’t break it.”

“Hmm, why?” Fang Suining started to act coquettishly.

“He finds you noisy.”

Fang Suining was struck hard: “What a jerk!”

Throughout the dinner, neither her uncle nor that jerk of a cousin appeared.

After finishing the meal and letting the food settle, the two went back to their rooms to rest. Although there was ample space in the bedrooms, Fang Suining warmly invited Shang Mingbao to sleep together so they could chat privately at night.

Fang Suining’s bedroom was neatly arranged, with a pink dressing table and desk by the window, filled with blind boxes and plush dolls. On the wall was a botanical press specimen, with dull colors and twisted shapes, annotated in a crooked manner, making it quite ugly yet distinctively unique.

“Isn’t it beautiful? I pressed it myself,” Fang Suining said proudly.

“Looks… nice,” Shang Mingbao could only say reluctantly.

“I told you, Feiran, that jerk, even complained that my pressing was ugly.”

The exact words were about the plant, a narrow-leafed Hong Kong Epimedium, which made Fang Suining very angry.

Shang Mingbao brought her pajamas and other items from her room, opening the small package: “I also prepared a gift for you…”

It was a four-leaf clover bracelet, which she thought was a perfect gift for a high school girl.

However, Fang Suining’s eyes were drawn to her bag: “Wow, is that a Kelly doll? Fake?”

Being a fan and a 5G surfing warrior, she was naturally well-versed in many things from the fashion world. She immediately recognized the limited edition Kelly doll, popular among celebrities and socialites.

Shang Mingbao held up the small bag: “This?”

She had carried this bag since childhood, bringing it to lunch parties, spring outings, or exhibitions, often packing a favorite sandwich and a small bottle of milk inside. Since she liked it, she had a cabinet full of bags in different leathers, colors, and styles to match her shoes and dresses. The only publicly exposed photo of her growing up was one where she was carrying the Kelly doll and hugging a pink long-eared bunny, with long hair over her shoulders, still looking sleepy at eight years old.

The media labeled her naive and called her a princess out on the street, unaware that it was also the day she first suffered from supraventricular tachycardia.

She didn’t remember it herself, but dreams helped her recall—at that time, her heart was racing uncontrollably, and the pain felt like it was about to explode. After passing out, her older brother had pushed through the bodyguards and ran through the crowd with her in his arms.

But at sixteen, carrying the bag she liked as a child, she felt a bit embarrassed.

The last auction price for this bag at Christie’s was 1.35 million. Shang Mingbao didn’t know, but Fang Suining did. She touched the leather: “This A-grade is so real.”

Counterfeit goods were common in Ning City, and while Shang Mingbao’s privileged status was obvious, it still exceeded Fang Suining’s expectations for a high school girl to carry such a bag. It seemed more reasonable to think it was fake.

Shang Mingbao tilted her head and did not argue: “It is indeed fake. I bought it because I liked it, and I’m embarrassed that you found out.”

Fang Suining slapped her shoulder enthusiastically and was eager: “But it’s really cute! Is the price good?”

Shang Mingbao, seeing her enthusiasm, shoved the Kelly doll into her arms: “Don’t buy it, this one is for you.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not old, it’s new,” Shang Mingbao thought she might mind it being used and specifically explained, “I have a lot of them… The manufacturer of the counterfeit ones is my uncle. If you use it out, I’ll send you another one.”

Fang Suining didn’t suspect anything and took it, returning the favor with something she really liked.

After turning off the lights and lying down, Fang Suining noticed the electronic watch on her wrist: “You even wear a watch while you sleep?”

In the dark, the LCD screen dimmed to its softest setting, displaying her heartbeat and pulse in real time.

Shang Mingbao instinctively covered the watch and mumbled, “Mm.” She didn’t want Fang Suining to know she was ill.

Many female classmates said she had “princess disease,” meaning she couldn’t run, jump, or even breathe too heavily. During physical education class, she would stay in the shade of trees, and over time, they kept their distance and rarely invited her to activities. Having made a new friend, she didn’t want to spoil the mood.

After talking for a long time about various things, Fang Suining eventually grew sleepy and fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Shang Mingbao, however, couldn’t sleep at all. She got up, put on a coat, and hugged her sleeping companion, the long-eared bunny, as she quietly walked downstairs.

The night dew dampened the floral scent, making the drifting breeze feel heavy.

The dense fog, like a cloud, obscured half of the moon. Shang Mingbao squatted in the corner of the yard and called Su Fei to quietly complain.

She had so many grievances to share, such as her room not being big enough, not even a third of her walk-in closet; the shower head wasn’t high-end, lacking the rounded force of raindrops; and after dinner, there was no fruit plate or dessert—she had to peel the fruit herself. Oh God, she had never personally used a fruit peeler! She didn’t even know how to use it, so she decided not to eat the autumn pears from the morning market to avoid embarrassment.

Su Fei was almost in tears upon hearing that she didn’t eat the fruit after dinner because she couldn’t peel it. She couldn’t help but think their home slippers were probably not real silk, and even if the sheets were high-count cotton, they couldn’t compare to the ones Mingbao had slept on since she was a child. Not to mention the mattress and pillows—making a young lady pretend to be an ordinary person wasn’t any easier than making an ordinary person pretend to be a princess.

After half an hour of venting her frustrations, Shang Mingbao hung up the phone and leaned her face on her knees to calm down. When she looked up again, she suddenly saw a cluster of flowers under the bamboo fence.

The flowers were blooming vigorously and chaotically, with yellow petals dimly reflecting the moonlight. In the darkness, the sound of moths flapping their wings was heard.

In the evening, it looked like a tangle of weeds, but at night, it bloomed without regard. They were probably wildflowers brought by the wind and insects.

Shang Mingbao walked over, adjusted her skirt, squatted down, and touched the flower’s center with her fingertips, saying, “No one’s watching you, so why are you blooming so beautifully at night?”

Feeling a strange sense of sympathy, she benevolently picked one flower—better to put it in a vase for admiration than to be ignored like this.

As she picked the third flower, the flashlight behind her suddenly turned on, accompanied by a cool and slightly impatient voice:

“Miss, who allowed you to pick my flowers again?”

Shang Mingbao was startled and fell to the ground with a scream.

Looking towards the light, the man leaning against the porch with his legs crossed, holding the household flashlight in an extremely lazy manner, came into view.

The light beam, with dust, gently and brightly illuminated Shang Mingbao, showing her half-open cardigan, the strap of her sleepwear slipping off her shoulder, and the pink toy she had dropped on the ground.

Before getting a good look, Xiang Feiran immediately turned off the flashlight.

After a moment of silence, he asked, “Why are you here?”

He had thought it was Fang Suining, the habitual offender.

“Uncle…” Shang Mingbao was about to say but corrected herself, her voice tiny, “Uncle.”

Uncle?

Xiang Feiran paused for a second, then coughed, “How did it become ‘uncle’ again?”

“I called him that together with Suining,” Shang Mingbao explained.

How did Fang Suining, that brain of 250 grams… introduce family relations to people? In any case, this generation he fixed it to, right?

Seeing she was still sitting and not getting up, Xiang Feiran walked towards her in the dark, reminding her in an elder’s tone, “The humidity is high at night, don’t sit on the ground.”

Shang Mingbao wasn’t unwilling to get up but was so frightened that her heart was racing intensely, making her hands and feet feel numb and unable to exert any strength.

The electronic watch on her wrist lit up because she tried to push herself up.

Heart rate 190.

This is a number rarely reached even with intense oxygen exercise.

Shang Mingbao instinctively covered her wrist and then smiled, awkwardly explaining, “I was scared…”

Xiang Feiran had reached her side, crouched down, and his breath suddenly became much closer.

“Legs weak?”

Shang Mingbao nodded.

The light was too dim for such a small movement to be clearly seen.

Xiang Feiran said, “Make a sound.”

Shang Mingbao obediently made a sound, “Mm.”

She thought that the “elder” might help her up, but after a few seconds of silence, he still didn’t move, only breathing silently, seeming troubled.

What’s so difficult about helping a girl up?

No one expected a gust of wind to blow at that moment. The mist in the night sky suddenly cleared, revealing the moon.

The moonlight, though minimal, was enough to illuminate the yard.

The shrubs and gray stone paths behind him, the porch he had been leaning against, and even his crouched figure were all clearly visible.

Probably not expecting the moon, his aloof expression clearly startled, his thin lips pressed together, and his Adam’s apple moved slightly.

Shang Mingbao’s gaze was more chaotic than the cluster of yellow flowers, and her heart skipped a beat.

She wasn’t sure if someone could be maintained so well; maybe it was the soft moonlight creating an illusion?

The clouds and fog once again merged together, and the scene shifted back to a Morandi-style still life.

Once her heartbeat stabilized, Shang Mingbao finally gathered the strength to force herself to stand up.

Her legs were very numb, and her body swayed a bit. This time, Xiang Feiran decisively supported her, strong and steady.

As soon as Xiang Feiran helped her up, he let go and then bent down to pick up her toy. The pink item was too delicate to be soiled, especially since it was made of long, plush fabric.

He examined it for a few moments and said, “I’ll have it cleaned and return it to you tomorrow.”

Shang Mingbao felt inexplicably awkward and reflexively said, “No need.”

Xiang Feiran replied calmly, “I scared you, so consider it an apology.”

Shang Mingbao looked down at the flowers she was holding tightly in her palm and said, “But I picked your flowers first…”

These were a bunch of seaside evening primroses, which only bloom at night. Xiang Feiran had been guarding them. To avoid disturbing moths and insects, he could only turn on the flashlight briefly every minute.

If Fang Suining were the culprit at this moment, he would probably have a lot to say. But facing this pitiable, sleepless guest who had come from afar, Xiang Feiran remained silent for a moment and said, “It’s alright. They’re wildflowers.”

After a moment of silence, he added, “If you hadn’t picked them, they would have wilted by dawn.”

After another moment of silence, he turned and went back… to find her a small, handy pair of flower scissors.

When saying goodbye, Shang Mingbao, holding a bouquet of tender yellow wildflowers, spoke with a tone of gratitude that was a far cry from her earlier despondence when talking to the butler, bowing crisply and saying, “Thank you for the flowers, Uncle.”

She now said “uncle” very fluently.

Xiang Feiran waved his fingers, as if shooing a child away, and said, “Go on.”

The next morning, Fang Suining, awakened by her biological clock, saw the evening primroses in the vase and let out a sharp scream—

“Damn it?!!! Who picked these?!!”

Her terrified gaze turned to the only outsider in the house who didn’t know about it. She slapped her forehead, put on her slippers, and rushed into the yard like a whirlwind.

At five in the morning, she pounded on the door so loudly it shook.

Xiang Feiran got up to open the door, his black T-shirt and sweatpants hanging loosely on his young body.

“Looking for death?” His morning temper was quite fearsome.

“Brother Feiran!” Fang Suining clasped her hands together and swore, “I swear! I didn’t pick your evening primroses, please believe me! Otherwise, I’ll gain 20 pounds!”

Xiang Feiran frowned and said, “I know. Go back to sleep.”

He was about to close the door.

Fang Suining was stunned and slapped the door frame: “How can you be so calm? It’s seaside evening primroses! Your specimen has been picked clean!”

The flowers and plants in the yard, though not personally tended by Xiang Feiran, were clearly planted, maintained, and harvested under his instructions. Fang Suining had committed serious offenses before, such as overwatering his orchids until they died, breaking off newly bloomed stone brooms and putting them in a vase, pulling off the red berries of coral grass to feed chickens…

As a result, her punishment was severe, including but not limited to writing long self-criticisms, buying seedlings and fertilizers with her own money, watering on time every day, singing to the plants, battling snails and red spiders, repairing roots, changing moss balls, helping with recording pollination at three in the morning, catching insects by hand, counting three thousand Arabidopsis seeds (finer than loose powder), and receiving a complete set of biological assault books for her birthday… etc!!

With the flowers picked clean, the person involved remained so indifferent, that Fang Suining sensed something was amiss.

Xiang Feiran, patiently turning back, made a “tch” sound and said, “Don’t yell. I asked for them to be picked.”

Fang Suining: “……”

Xiang Feiran: “There’s no need to observe something that’s been thoroughly studied in terms of morphology. It’s the same as reading the literature.”

Fang Suining: “…………”

Wasn’t it you who said otherwise last time!!

Early in the morning, Fang Suining was fuming like a little bull because of her cousin.

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