Gu Zhuoyan led the big dog and his little sister slowly back toward their rooms.

Once it got dark and the atmosphere quieted down, it was inevitable for a child to feel homesick. Gu Baoyan yawned and asked dispiritedly, "Brother, when are we going home?"

Gu Zhuoyan said, "Whenever you feel homesick, just call Mom. She'll send someone to pick you up."

Gu Baoyan emphasized, "I said 'we'. What about you?"

Gu Zhuoyan answered, "I'm not going back."

The brother and sister went up the stairs. Sister Hu was waiting in the room to give Gu Baoyan a bath. Gu Zhuoyan saw her in and coaxed her with a "Good night." He returned to his own bedroom. His suitcase was tossed on the floor, and he couldn't be bothered to deal with it, casually picking out a pair of shorts.

After his shower, he lay on his back on the bed, turned off the light, and pulled up the covers. Gu Zhuoyan closed his eyes.

On his first night in Rong City, two hours later, he was sure he had insomnia.

Gu Zhuoyan got up. The bedsheet was wrinkled and creased from his tossing and turning, and one of the pillows had fallen off. He opened the French windows and went out onto the balcony. The midnight wind was still very hot, and the rattan chair had been soiled by some ill-mannered bird.

Gu Zhuoyan returned to the room. When he got irritable, nothing looked right to him. The color of the sheets and duvet cover, the pattern on the curtains, the various furnishings in the room—not a single thing pleased him.

Having no other choice, he lay back down on the bed and took out his phone to find a random movie to watch. He had a quirk: watching movies made him drowsy. Normally, he would fall asleep after fifteen minutes, but today, since he was in a bad mood, it took half an hour for him to finally doze off.

The next day, Xue Maochen heard a clattering noise from upstairs. Thinking the brother and sister were fighting, he waited a while, figuring the winner and loser had been decided, before going upstairs to take a look.

Outside his grandson's room, he saw a complete mess. Xue Maochen said in surprise, "Are you trying to tear down my house?"

Gu Zhuoyan stood in the messy room, pointed to the curtains, various furnishings, desk, and chair, and said, "Grandpa, I don't like any of this. Let's replace it all."

Xue Maochen breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed it would only cost some money. He gave the room another quick scan—good heavens, the souvenirs he had brought back from Africa, the Americas, and Oceania, this kid actually looked down on all of them. The old man didn't understand the aesthetic tastes of young people anyway. Oh well, let him do as he pleased.

Out of sight, out of mind. Xue Maochen called his driver and decided to go out fishing for the day. After packing his gear and leaving the house, he stopped outside Zhuang Fanxin's house before departing.

Zhuang Fanxin, with his schoolbag on his back and pushing his bicycle, came out of his house and asked, "Grandpa Xue, are you looking for me?"

Xue Maochen said, "Xiao Zhuang, Grandpa needs to ask you for a favor." He knew his grandson's temper well. "Zhuoyan is turning his room upside down at home. When you have time, go take a look and help him decorate a bit. He's, ah, in a foul mood. Maybe if you guys, being the same age, chat a little, he'll feel better."

Zhuang Fanxin wanted to know why Gu Zhuoyan was in a foul mood. In fact, from their brief contact yesterday, he also felt the other boy's personality was overly cold, but since they weren't familiar with each other yet, asking too many questions would be impolite.

He agreed, "Alright, I'll go find him when I get back from class."

Zhuang Fanxin studied painting. His mother, Zhao Jianqiu, was a famous landscape designer in the country, and his father, Zhuang Xianyang, was a professor at the Art Academy. The whole family had an artistic streak. Their house was co-designed by him and Zhuang Xianyang.

After agreeing, Zhuang Fanxin went to his cram school for two advanced math tutoring sessions and didn't get back until noon.

He turned into the small lane on his bicycle, a take-out order of beef ball noodles hanging from the handlebars. Instead of going home, he rode straight to the end of the old alley. When he rang the bell at the gate, the German Shepherd heard the sound and rushed out of the house, showing off its guard dog skills.

Gu Baoyan followed it out to see. When she saw it was Zhuang Fanxin, she opened the gate. Zhuang Fanxin parked his bike and asked, "Little sister, have you had lunch?"

Gu Baoyan said, "I've eaten, but my brother hasn't. He said Sister Hu's cooking isn't to his liking."

'Was it really not to his liking, or was he just in a foul mood and didn't want to eat?' Zhuang Fanxin saw no one on the first floor, so he went straight upstairs to look for him. The bedroom door was wide open, and there was no place to step inside, as if it had been ransacked by a thief.

He knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"

Gu Zhuoyan looked over at the sound and said faintly, "Whatever."

Zhuang Fanxin stepped into the room. While observing the walls and floor, he feigned ignorance and said, "No one's at my place, and it's too boring to eat alone, so I came over to hang out for a bit. Are you... decorating your room?"

Gu Zhuoyan grunted an "Mm," tore the totem decorative painting off the wall, and then went silent again. Zhuang Fanxin was speechless. He decided not to try chatting for now, sat cross-legged on the carpet, opened his beef ball noodles, and figured he'd fill his stomach first.

Four beef balls paired with savory, fragrant noodles. The German Shepherd arrived on the scene within five seconds.

Zhuang Fanxin earnestly slurped his noodles. As he bit into a beef ball, Gu Baoyan also came running, drawn by the scent. He fed one to his little sister, then one to the German Shepherd, leaving only one.

At that moment, Gu Zhuoyan's stomach let out a rumble, which was exceptionally clear.

Zhuang Fanxin looked toward the side of the bed. Gu Zhuoyan was sitting there playing on his phone, his head lowered and his brows slightly furrowed. He raised his chopsticks and said, "This one's for you."

Gu Zhuoyan said, "I'm not eating."

Zhuang Fanxin didn't insist or press the issue. He simply turned and popped it into his own mouth. After wiping his mouth, he took out a stack of scratch paper from his schoolbag and began to draw by himself.

The atmosphere in the room grew quiet. Gu Zhuoyan occasionally glanced at Zhuang Fanxin, a little curious about what the other boy was drawing. But he couldn't see the paper, only the small curly bangs hanging over Zhuang Fanxin's lowered forehead.

Quickly, Zhuang Fanxin finished one drawing and started on a second.

Gu Zhuoyan couldn't hold back any longer and asked, "What are you drawing?"

Zhuang Fanxin said, "Just a moment." After answering, he fell silent again. Once he was finished drawing, he got up, walked over to Gu Zhuoyan's side, and sat down. "Client, take a look and see if you're satisfied."

Gu Zhuoyan took them. On the two sheets of scratch paper were two different drafts—design plans for the bedroom and balcony. The lines were clean and smooth, the overall design was much more streamlined, and the spatial arrangement looked exceptionally comfortable.

"This area will be freed up," Zhuang Fanxin said, tapping his fingertip on the drawing. "Then you can put some of your own things there. If you think it's too empty, you can put down a dog bed."

Gu Zhuoyan looked at the drawing, then turned to look at Zhuang Fanxin. Permed hair, a tattoo, gobbling down pizza, couldn't remember five numbers to save his life, and could mispronounce two out of three characters in a name—he had thought Zhuang Fanxin was nothing more than a pretty face.

...He'd misjudged him.

Zhuang Fanxin watched Gu Zhuoyan's reaction. He could tell that Gu Zhuoyan quite liked his design, but he also knew this guy was as cold as a block of ice and probably wouldn't just accept it for free.

So he took the opposite approach, reaching out to pinch a corner of the drawing and saying, "I can't help for free."

Gu Zhuoyan looked up. "How much?"

Zhuang Fanxin was caught off guard. "Clients like you are the best..." Of course, he wasn't going to ask for money, but he couldn't think of any other conditions. So, he pulled two test papers from his schoolbag. "Help me do these."

Gu Zhuoyan didn't like being indebted to people, so this was perfect. It would also help kill some time. Zhuang Fanxin was by no means a bad student, and he was a bit nervous about having someone else do his homework for the first time. He asked uneasily, "What score can you get?"

Gu Zhuoyan said, "You decide."

That was an incredibly bold claim. Zhuang Fanxin's eyes widened, unable to tell if Gu Zhuoyan was bluffing. As a teenage boy, he felt a bit challenged and said deliberately, "Then I want a perfect score."

Gu Zhuoyan said, "Got it."

Zhuang Fanxin opened his mouth, wanting to argue some more, but a glance at the time told him he couldn't linger. It was almost two-thirty, and he was going to be late for his art studio session. He quickly packed his schoolbag.

"I'm off!" he said, rushing out the door. He then poked his head back in to add, "All joking aside, if there are any questions you can't answer, just leave them blank, okay?"

Gu Zhuoyan said, "I'll make up answers if I have to."

That would never do. Zhuang Fanxin yelled, "Don't just write random stuff!"

Gu Zhuoyan said, annoyed, "Just go already."

The sound of footsteps thundered down the stairs like a bouncing rabbit. After the last bit of noise faded away, Gu Zhuoyan's mood inexplicably improved a little.

He took the test papers downstairs, asked Sister Hu for something to eat, and did them at the dining table while he ate.

It was already dark when Zhuang Fanxin left the art studio. On the stuffy night, he appeared at the intersection on his bicycle. The streetlight, the banyan tree, the utility pole—his shadow stretched long in the dim yellow glow.

From afar, he saw the German Shepherd's imposing figure.

Behind that imposing figure, Gu Zhuoyan stood with his hands in his pockets, looking rather cool.

Arriving at his gate, Zhuang Fanxin stopped and said, "Walking the dog this late?"

Gu Zhuoyan sniffled. He'd been walking the dog around this small patch of land for half an hour. He handed over the math papers and said, "They're done. Here."

Zhuang Fanxin took the papers and said with a smile, "Thanks, that was pretty fast." He parked his bicycle and walked the German Shepherd around for a bit. The dog panted with its tongue hanging out, and he couldn't help but yawn.

Blinking, Zhuang Fanxin struggled to stay awake. Rushing around all day was truly exhausting, making him feel almost drunk. Bathed in the lamplight and moonlight, he looked at Gu Zhuoyan in a hazy daze. His vision doubled, and for a moment, it was as if he had been transported back to the Spring Festival three years ago.

It was right here, at this gate. He had been running in a hurry when Gu Zhuoyan passed by like the wind. They had collided with a thud, and after bumping into each other, they had stared, each thinking the other was being reckless.

Zhuang Fanxin asked, "How long will you be staying? Isn't redecorating the room a bit of a major undertaking?"

Gu Zhuoyan said, "A year, probably."

Zhuang Fanxin said in surprise, "Then you're not going to school anymore?"

Gu Zhuoyan said, "I'm transferring."

Zhuang Fanxin was very surprised. Not being able to see his parents, classmates, and friends for a year—the thought alone was depressing. Besides, one wouldn't leave home for no good reason; there had to be a reason.

He wasn't one to gossip, but his gaze toward Gu Zhuoyan was filled with sympathy. So, he said considerately, "You're in an unfamiliar place and don't know anyone, so if you need anything in the future, just find me."

After saying that, he thought for a moment. They didn't even have each other's contact information; would they have to physically run over every time? Zhuang Fanxin took out his phone and handed it over, saying, "Put your number in."

Gu Zhuoyan saved his number, gave a little wave, and walked away with the German Shepherd, looking rather cool.

The road was very dark. He had only walked a few meters when his phone screen suddenly lit up. A text message from an unknown number popped up. It was just two words—Good night.

In the pitch darkness, it seemed somewhat gentle.

Suddenly, Zhuang Fanxin's shout shattered the gentle moment: "Hey, you rude jerk, reply!"

Gu Zhuoyan jumped, startled. He moved his fingers and typed a reply, but it was "Thank you."