A light but steady rain had been falling for more than a week, leaving puddles in the low-lying parts of the road, and the air was always damp.

On a rare sunny day, Han Fangchi went to his parents' house after work. He opened the door with his fingerprint, and as soon as it opened, a wave of clamor, seemingly carrying its own heat, rushed out to meet him, covering him from head to toe.

Everyone was gathered around the backyard and kitchen area, and no one noticed Han Fangchi had come in. He got a pair of slippers for himself, placed a huge cake box against the wall, silently crossed the living room, and knocked on a door.

"Who is it?" A girl's impatient voice came from inside.

Han Fangchi didn't answer and knocked again.

"Come in, come in, come in!" The tone clearly meant she would get angry if he knocked again.

Han Fangchi pushed the door open and closed it behind him.

Inside the room, a girl was sitting on the bed with her legs bent, holding her phone horizontally, playing a game. Seeing it was Han Fangchi who came in, she still didn't give him a pleasant look.

"Well, look who it is, the busy man himself. Did you manage to squeeze some time out of your packed schedule? My humble abode is truly honored, truly honored."

Han Fangchi went over and sat in a chair. "Han Zhiyao, speak properly."

Han Zhiyao glared at him and ignored him.

"Is Zhimo back?" Han Fangchi asked.

"How could he? You're all such busy people, occupied with a myriad of state affairs," Han Zhiyao replied sarcastically.

Han Zhiyao was the family's demon king who was in her first year of high school. During family gatherings, her room was the only sanctuary; no one dared to come in and provoke her.

Last time she had a huge fight with Ms. Pang, she called Han Fangchi to come back, but Han Fangchi said he was busy and didn't return. Han Zhimo said she had exams and had to study every day, so she didn't come back either.

After that, she held a grudge. She never contacted Han Fangchi again. When Han Fangchi sent her messages, she wouldn't reply, and when he sent her red packets, she wouldn't accept them.

"Let's discuss the terms for you to stop being angry," Han Fangchi said.

"No discussion," Han Zhiyao said coldly. "It's already a kindness that I haven't kicked you out."

"One thousand," Han Fangchi said.

Han Zhiyao's expression didn't change.

"Two thousand," Han Fangchi said.

Han Zhiyao still didn't even spare him a glance.

Han Fangchi leaned back in his chair and turned away. "If you don't want to talk, then forget it."

Usually, by this point, Han Zhiyao would have agreed, but this time she completely ignored him. It seemed she was genuinely angry.

Having failed to placate her, Han Fangchi didn't try anymore. The two of them played on their phones separately in the only quiet space.

This day was Grandma's birthday. Various aunts and uncles had all brought their families over to celebrate. There were at least twenty people, adults and children, in the house now.

The Han Family's house was a duplex with a basement, two floors above ground and one below. Altogether, it was large enough to accommodate everyone, so almost every family gathering was held at their place.

Today, Zhou Muyao's mother had also come. Although the two families were distant relatives, they had interacted a lot over the years, and she came every year to celebrate Grandma's birthday.

At the family dinner with over twenty people, there was a table for the adults and a table for the kids. Han Fangchi, without any self-awareness, at thirty-one years old, took his bowl and squeezed in at the kids' table.

"Fangchi, get over here!" His youngest uncle, who was less than ten years older than him, called him over.

Han Fangchi pretended not to hear and gave Han Zhiyao a look, signaling her to make room for him.

"Are there any kids as old as you?" Han Zhiyao said, scooting over to make space.

Han Fangchi squeezed in and sat down.

Sitting at the kids' table meant he could leave right after eating; the adults' table went on endlessly. Moreover, Han Fangchi was still unmarried, not even having a girlfriend, so sitting there would make him a living target.

"Let him sit there, stop calling him," Ms. Pang spoke up for him considerately. "Fangchi worked all day, let him eat in peace."

Han Zhiyao pouted and said mockingly, "She saved all her kindness for you. It really pays to be the precious son."

Han Fangchi didn't get involved in sensitive topics and pretended not to hear.

When people reach middle age, the dinner table conversation inevitably revolves around their children. Han Fangchi, being the oldest of his generation and mainly because he was single, absorbed nearly half of the topics for the other kids.

Of the remaining half, Zhou Muyao, as a brave boy who had come out, absorbed most of it for the others.

Over so many years, Han Fangchi had watched Auntie Qu go from initial sighs and laments to later, a heart as still as water—unable to change it, she could only accept it.

Speaking of Zhou Muyao, Auntie Qu called out to him from the other table.

"Fangchi?"

Han Fangchi turned around, "What is it, Auntie?"

Auntie Qu inquired with him, "Did Yaoyao and that friend of his break up? He looks heartbroken to me, but he won't say anything when I ask."

Han Fangchi said, "I don't know."

"How could you not know? Just keep hiding it. You never say anything I ask you." Auntie Qu was clearly unconvinced.

Han Fangchi lowered his eyes and smiled. "You should ask him."

"He said no." Auntie Qu judged with certainty, "Something must have gone wrong."

Han Fangchi didn't say anything more and turned back to continue eating.

He had originally planned to leave right after dinner, and Han Fangchi had already stood up, ready to announce his departure. However, after circling around Zhou Muyao, the topic came back to Han Fangchi.

An uncle stopped him, saying he wanted to introduce his niece to him.

"Now that you mention it, I remember. Aren't you two perfect for each other? She's two years younger than you, with a similar educational background, and you know each other's families."

Just as Han Fangchi was about to open his mouth, Han Zhiyao beside him let out a piercing scream, "Ah!" as if she were having a breakdown.

The room fell silent instantly, and everyone looked at her.

"So annoying, so annoying, so annoying!" Han Zhiyao slammed her bowl hard on the table, stood up, and shrieked, "Han Fangchi, are you leaving or not! You're squishing me to death!"

Han Fangchi immediately played along, "I'm leaving right now."

Ms. Pang called out Han Zhiyao's name in a warning tone.

"What!" Han Zhiyao went back to her room, shouting as she walked, "Han Fangchi, get out of my house right now!"

Han Fangchi had already put on his shoes. Ms. Pang said, "Don't mind her, she's just throwing a tantrum."

"Don't provoke her." Han Fangchi wished his Grandma a happy birthday one more time, then turned, opened the door, and left.

Once outside, he transferred 2000 to Han Zhiyao.

Han Zhiyao accepted the transfer and replied: Thanks for helping a young girl's merchandise dream.

Han Fangchi said: Does this count as a truce?

Han Zhiyao: Ok.

Han Fangchi had just gotten back to his own place when Zhou Muyao called.

"Xiao Hei?" Han Fangchi answered the phone.

"Brother, I just arrived. You left?" Zhou Muyao asked.

"I'm already home," Han Fangchi said.

"Then I'm leaving too. I'll come find you. I only came because I thought you'd be here," Zhou Muyao said.

"Come on over."

Zhou Muyao went over, showed his face, said a few nice words of blessing, and left without eating. He was thick-skinned and didn't care what anyone said about him. After all, the relatives on Han Fangchi's side were only second cousins to Zhou Muyao's family, so they couldn't say much to his face. At most, they would chat for a while after he left, saying what a pity it was, such a good kid. Zhou Muyao cared even less about that.

Zhou Muyao sat at Han Fangchi's dining table, his head lowered as he shoveled down a bowl of egg-fried rice.

Han Fangchi came out after a shower, drying his hair and wearing a short-sleeved shirt and shorts.

He asked Zhou Muyao, "What do you want to drink?"

"Water is fine," Zhou Muyao said.

Han Fangchi went and got him a bottle of mineral water, placing it in front of him. Zhou Muyao wasn't picky about food. Han Fangchi didn't have any other dishes, but Zhou Muyao would eat even if it was just a casually fried bowl of rice.

Zhou Muyao had lost a lot of weight. His whole person seemed to have wilted, listless like a dehydrated plant.

After finishing his meal, he flopped onto the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Brother, what do I do?" Zhou Muyao said.

"Don't ask me, I don't know." Han Fangchi tossed him an apple. Zhou Muyao caught it but didn't eat it, placing it on his stomach instead.

"The moment I open my eyes, I want to find him. I keep feeling like he wouldn't be this cruel." Zhou Muyao sniffled and continued, "He's just angry, but I don't know how to make him calm down."

Han Fangchi sat to the side eating his apple, showing no intention of joining the conversation. The apple sounded very crisp.

"What was I thinking back then? I really don't get it. I never thought about the consequences," Zhou Muyao said in a low voice. "Men are such scumbags."

"Don't." Han Fangchi stopped chewing his apple and interrupted him. "That was your own personal action."

"Yeah, I'm the scumbag." Zhou Muyao turned his head to look at him, his eyes filled with obvious sadness. "Where can I buy a potion of regret?"

Han Fangchi went silent again, eating his apple while looking at his phone.

"Brother."

Han Fangchi looked up. "Hm?"

"Do you think," Zhou Muyao asked softly, "I can still have Lezhi?"

Han Fangchi glanced at him, actually thought about it for a few seconds, and said, "Probably not."

What kind of person was He Lezhi?

Soft on the outside, hard on the inside.

For eight years, all Zhou Muyao had seen was He Lezhi's softness. He was gentle and tolerant, never lost his temper, and always had a smile in his eyes.

Zhou Muyao had been tenderly doted on for eight years. This time, it was as if he had personally taken a knife and scraped He Lezhi's soft layer to shreds, leaving nothing behind.

"Brother, help me." Zhou Muyao's eyes were red, and his voice was fragile.

"I want Lezhi," he said sadly.