“It’s insanely hot today, not a breeze in sight,” Lin Erzhu muttered as he deftly sliced open a watermelon on the small table, revealing its bright red flesh, clearly juicy. He was delighted, swiftly cutting it into smaller slices and handing one to the person next to him, who didn’t take it for a while.

Glancing over in confusion, he noticed Zhou Song zoning out, unresponsive. Lin Erzhu nudged him with his elbow, “Zhou Song, watermelon time, what’s up with you?”

Jolted by the nudge, Zhou Song silently took the watermelon slice.

Pleased, Lin Erzhu grabbed a slice himself and took a big bite, exclaiming with satisfaction, “No wonder, I picked this one myself from Old Liu’s field—it’s sweet!” He had picked two melons; one he took home and the other he brought to share with Zhou Song, and he was not disappointed.

After a few bites, Lin Erzhu looked up only to see Zhou Song holding his slice untouched, still lost in thought. Lin Erzhu waved his hand in front of him to snap him out of it, “Zhou Song, what’s got you so distracted today, what are you thinking about?”

Zhou Song met his curious gaze, looked away, and didn’t answer, instead taking a bite of his watermelon. It was juicy and sweet, but he felt it tasteless.

Lin Erzhu studied his face and suddenly asked, “Did those people say something nasty when you went back home yesterday?”

Zhou Song, annoyed by the noise, frowned, “No.”

Lin Erzhu was skeptical. If it wasn’t those people nagging again, why was Zhou Song acting so oddly, always dazed? Seeing his expression, Zhou Song met his eyes and said, “Do you think I can be bullied by them now?”

Lin Erzhu’s eyebrows relaxed. True, those people always popped up to annoy, but Zhou Song never bothered with them, nothing they said got to him. But this made it even stranger, “Then what’s wrong? You look like you’re out of it.”

Zhou Song paused and then shook his head, “Maybe it’s just the heat.”

It was just the heat making him a bit delirious, he reassured himself silently, wondering whom he was convincing.

Lin Erzhu nodded in agreement, “This heat really does fry your brain, can’t even sleep at night.” While talking, he slapped his neck, killing a mosquito, and carelessly wiped it on his shirt, muttering, “Even the mosquitoes are a nuisance.”

Zhou Song followed his movement, noticing a small red spot on his dark skin, barely visible. He thought, if only the skin were paler, the red would be stark, like that person’s snow-like skin blushing, surely as noticeable as winter’s bright plum blossoms.

Snapping back to reality, realizing what he was thinking, Zhou Song bit his lip and looked down, taking another bite of his watermelon.

“Hey, Zhou Song, did you know? Someone’s moved into our village,” Lin Erzhu continued.

Zhou Song looked up, “Who?”

“I heard from my mom, that old deserted house not far from here is going to be occupied,” Lin Erzhu said, leaning closer and whispering, “My mom chatted with Aunt Qian, who said there are two people, one of them is a Kun Ze, looks like a fairy, and you can smell flowers on him up close.”

Zhou Song instantly thought of the person he had met yesterday. His grip on the watermelon tightened, “How do they know?”

“Aunt Qian lives next door to them. She went to help clean the house yesterday and even spoke to the Kun Ze. She was so excited talking about it, said he speaks so elegantly, like a young master from a wealthy family,” Lin Erzhu nibbled on his melon, “But it seems he’s not in good health.”

Zhou Song’s heart tightened, “Why?”

Lin Erzhu shrugged, “Not sure, just heard Aunt Qian say that the Kun Ze keeps coughing, and his face is quite pale.”

As a man, Lin Erzhu didn’t pry too much, just overheard a bit.

Zhou Song reflected on his brief encounter yesterday; indeed, the man seemed frail, his paleness almost sickly, not just from travel fatigue.

Unaware of Zhou Song’s concerns, Lin Erzhu finished his slice and grabbed another, “Zhou Song, if he’s really some rich young master, why would he come to our backwater village? Could his family be in trouble?”

Zhou Song murmured, “Don’t know, and don’t speculate about others.”

“I get it, just chatting with you, wouldn’t say this to anyone else,” Lin Erzhu grinned earnestly, “Don’t worry, if his family is in trouble, I definitely won’t spread it around.”

Zhou Song nodded, knowing his friend might be playful but wasn’t one to gossip.

He finished his melon, threw the rind on the table, and stood up.

Following his movements, Lin Erzhu looked up with his cheeks full of melon, “What’s up?”

Zhou Song headed towards the kitchen to fetch a bucket, “Almost out of water, I’m going to get some.”

“Fetching water?” Lin Erzhu stood puzzled, following him to the kitchen door, watching him grab a bucket, and called out, “Can I come with you?”

“No need,” Zhou Song carried the bucket out, not even looking back, and left.

Carrying water at noon… Lin Erzhu stared at the blazing sun, noting that Zhou Song usually carried two buckets, but today, just one?

The village well wasn’t far from Zhou Song’s house, perfectly en route to pass the newly occupied house. He paused, noticing the cleaned-up yard and patched-up fence, giving the old house a somewhat decent look.

Such a house was okay for a temporary fix but not for long-term living—it needed serious repairs.

Lost in thought, Zhou Song stood there for a while before heading towards the well.

It was midday, and the village was quiet, most people resting at home. He hadn’t expected to see anyone else fetching water.

Approaching the well, he recognized a familiar figure struggling with the crank—a woman he had seen driving a cart the other day.

Seeing her pause to rest, Zhou Song quickly stepped up and helped her with the crank.

Startled by his sudden appearance, Wu Lanshu looked up to see a handsome but expressionless man. His abrupt help surprised her, and as she recovered, he explained softly, “Let me help.”

Relieved, Wu Lanshu smiled, “Thank you, sir.”

It was Zhou Song’s first time being addressed this way; he didn’t respond, just quickly filled her bucket and set it down, then proceeded with his own.

Wu Lanshu admired his efficient moves, “I’m getting older, haven’t done such heavy work in years, hardly have the strength.”

Zhou Song kept cranking, shaking his head, “Such tasks are meant for men.”

Wu Lanshu chuckled, planning to take a break and then carry the water home. But instead, Zhou Song picked up both their buckets, one in each hand, effortlessly.

“Where do you live? I’ll carry these for you,” he offered, seeing her surprised look.

“Oh, that’s too much trouble,” Wu Lanshu hadn’t expected such kindness from someone who seemed so stern, “My house is just over there, I’ll show you the way.”

Silently, Zhou Song followed her.

“What should I call you?” Wu Lanshu turned to chat.

Zhou Song looked up, “I’m Zhou Song.”

Wu Lanshu repeated his name, smiling, “Then I’ll call you Zhou Xiaofu. I’m Wu, you can call me Aunt Wu.”

Finding him agreeable, she felt less formal, “You probably haven’t seen me before, I just moved to the village, we’ll likely see each other more.”

Zhou Song nodded, not sure what to say.

Seeing he wasn’t dismissive, just quiet, Wu Lanshu continued, “I actually grew up in Qishan Village, this place is my hometown.”

Zhou Song looked at her, opened his mouth to ask why she moved away but decided against it, not wanting to pry.

Although he wasn’t very responsive, he listened intently, and Wu Lanshu enjoyed talking to him.

However, all she spoke of was her own matters, not a word about the person she lived with.

Reaching her house, she thanked him, “Thanks, Zhou Xiaofu, want to come in for a drink?”

Realizing it might be awkward, she paused, and Zhou Song did too, setting down the buckets without entering, “No, that wouldn’t be appropriate.”

Wu Lanshu paused, understanding he might have heard about the Kun Ze¹ living with her and didn’t want to stir rumors. Her gaze softened, appreciating his decency, “Alright, then I won’t invite you in, it’s hot, better head back.”

Zhou Song nodded, picked up his bucket, and left.

Wu Lanshu watched him go, bending to pick up her bucket, thinking highly of him. Touching the handle, she suddenly realized his imposing presence and the faint pine scent as he had approached. Could he be a Qi Yuan, a spiritual being?

She looked after him, shocked, never expecting to find a Qi Yuan in this small village. That he had said it wasn’t appropriate because…

Wu Lanshu turned back towards her house, relieved he was decent, grateful for encountering a good Qi Yuan in the village.

Meanwhile, Zhou Song, walking home, felt the lingering scent of orchids, pressing his agitated neck. That enticing aroma almost drew out his true nature; had he not hurried away, he might have revealed more than intended.

He stopped, looked back in the direction he came, and realized the person wasn’t just sick—it was their prime season.

1. Kun Ze – Similar to Omega ↩︎