The crowd dispersed, leaving only the family of three. Jiang Shuliu comforted him, “Maybe he gave it as a gift to a superior again. Isn't he trying to become a team leader?”

Ding Yanshou squeezed the remote control until it creaked. “If he never makes it, does that mean all my bottles will be given away?”

Ji Shenyu leaned against the armrest without speaking. A comedy was playing on TV, and he was struggling to hold back his laughter. Jiang Shuliu was silent for a moment, then suddenly had another idea. “Could he be in a relationship? Maybe he took the wine to pay respects to his future father-in-law?”

Ding Yanshou's mood instantly brightened. “Well, he's not stupid then. I'll ask Old Shang about it later.”

Perhaps from holding it in too long, his laughter completely subsided, or perhaps the movie just wasn't funny at that moment. Ji Shenyu lost interest in the TV and asked, “Master, Madam, does Senior Brother have a girlfriend?”

Ding Yanshou said, “It's hard to say, he never tells me. But Erhe and Keyu both have girlfriends, and maybe Ting'en is dating someone at school too. What about you? Are there any girls you like at school?”

The topic changed so abruptly that Ji Shenyu was caught off guard. He just stared at the two elders, at a loss for words.

While they were busy gossiping behind his back, Ding Hanbai had already arrived at Zhang Sinian's doorstep with the Maotai. He had planned to come long ago but kept getting delayed. He wondered if the old man was angry, and if he would give him a hard time.

Ding Hanbai entered the courtyard. “Grandpa Zhang?”

Zhang Sinian lifted the door curtain. “What did you call me?”

Ding Hanbai considered. “Uncle Zhang?”

Zhang Sinian glared. “I think you're an idiot!”

Ding Hanbai's temper almost flared. 'Should I call you Big Brother then? You should at least dye your hair first.' He swallowed his anger, stepped forward, and offered the Maotai. But to his surprise, Zhang Sinian took it and smashed it on the ground. The liquor splashed everywhere, its aroma filling the courtyard.

“You think I care about these two lousy bottles of wine?!”

Ding Hanbai remembered that Zhang Sinian drank during meals, which meant he liked wine. Yet here he was, in this broken-down house, collecting scraps, but looking down on genuine Maotai. He looked the man straight in his eyes—one blind, one clear—and asked, “What do you want to drink? I'll go get it.”

Zhang Sinian said, “I'm not your father.”

Ding Hanbai said, “You don't look like you have a son, either. If you were my father, I wouldn't let you live like this.”

He spoke slowly, scrutinizing the changes in the man's expression. This person was too strange. When dealing with objects, he was both knowledgeable and slick. That, combined with a room full of half-real, half-fake antiques, made it obvious he was an expert. But this wasn't something one could learn just from books. To appraise authenticity, one must first have handled genuine items—not just one, but the more, the better.

Therefore, Zhang Sinian couldn't just be a scrap collector. Or rather, he couldn't have always been a scrap collector.

After a long silence, Zhang Sinian asked, “How would you have me live? Drinking Maotai with every meal?”

Ding Hanbai said, “It doesn't matter what you drink. The important thing is having someone to drink with when you're bored.” He took a step forward. “The first time you called me over, it was because I identified the Celadon Vase, the Hundred Longevity Vase, and the Ge Ware Small Incense Burner as fakes, right?”

Seeing the other man's tacit agreement, he continued, “You had me pick an item because you wanted to test me further, am I right about that too?”

This time, without waiting for Zhang Sinian's reaction, he pressed on, “If I had picked out a genuine piece, what were you planning to do?”

Zhang Sinian gave an irrelevant answer, “At your age, identifying the Celadon Vase and the small incense burner could be explained by talent and experience. But identifying the Hundred Longevity Vase is impossible. Do you have a master?”

Ding Hanbai confessed, “My master is my dad. He taught me jade carving. I've been able to identify jades and woods since I was a few years old. Antiques are my own secret hobby. I recognized the Hundred Longevity Vase because the real one is in my house. I'm not lying.”

The room was unlit and pitch-black. Zhang Sinian told him to go in and choose, saying nothing else. He could finally examine the roomful of objects carefully. Real ones, fake ones, fakes that looked real, and ones where it was hard to tell... He was dazzled, unable to move.

Ding Hanbai came out holding a White Jade Chilong-Patterned Brush Rest. It wasn't large, but he felt it was heavy.

He asked again, what if it were real, and what if it were fake.

Zhang Sinian said, “If it's real, it means I wasn't wrong. You've got potential. If you take me as your master, I'll teach you. If it's fake... well, you were willing to drink with me, and I was moved. If you take me as your master, I'll teach you anyway.”

He wasn't sure if Ding Hanbai would be willing to become his disciple. If he wasn't, then so be it. It would mean they weren't fated to be, and it was no loss of his, anyway.

The ground was wet with spilled wine, but Ding Hanbai felt a little drunk. In this life, he had to be responsible for the Jade Pavilion; he had no choice. That was why his love for antiques had always been a secret. But why would God give him this opportunity? It put him in a dilemma.

He warmed the cool brush rest in his hands until it was hot. A pot of wine was heating in his heart, and it slowly began to boil, simmering bit by bit.

One can't live one's life in vain. You don't have to do anything earth-shattering, but you also can't grow old with regrets. Stepping on the shards of the broken bottle, he accepted this gift of fate and said solemnly, “Master, I'll drink with you from now on.”

Leaving Chongshui District, Ding Hanbai was still in a daze when he got home. The daze vanished when he saw Ding Yanshou, and he began to feel guilty.

Ding Yanshou's face was stern. “The Maotai thief is back. You can guard against thieves day and night, but you can't guard against a thief in the family. Who did you give the wine to? You think I don't know?”

Ding Hanbai was startled. 'My dad knows? Have I been exposed?'

“Did you give it to Minru's dad?” Ding Yanshou said. “You used to say you didn't like her. I see you've been thick-skinned since you were a child, and now you're shy enough to hide it from us.”

'What in the world...' Ding Hanbai nodded dazedly. As long as they didn't know he had another master outside, it was fine. When he returned to the small courtyard, Ji Shenyu and Jiang Ting'en were actually playing cards, each with a bag of crystals beside them as chips.

Ji Shenyu saw his savior. “Senior Brother, I'm about to lose this whole bag!”

Ding Hanbai wasn't interested. “What's it to me? Your little bird doesn't hurt anymore?”

Having lost a whole bag of crystals, Ji Shenyu went to the study window. Ding Hanbai was leaning back in his chair, completely relaxed, polishing the Rose Seal. He leaned on the windowsill and asked, “Senior Brother, is the girl we met at the Museum your girlfriend?”

Ding Hanbai grunted, it was unclear whether it was an admission or a denial. After wiping it clean, he said, “We've known each other since we were kids, and our families know each other too. We both said that if we reached a marriageable age and hadn't found anyone suitable, we'd just get together. It was a joke, but after saying it so many times, our parents took it to heart.”

Ji Shenyu asked, “You don't like each other?”

Ding Hanbai said, “I haven't met anyone I like yet. Who knows when that person will appear? But they can't just never show up, can they? Am I supposed to wait until I'm thirty or forty? Come or not, I can't be bothered to wait.”

The concept of love was hazy to Ji Shenyu. He was an illegitimate son, so Ji Fangxu hadn't set a good example. Now, watered with Ding Hanbai's words, he was even more confused. He decided to just stop thinking about it and asked something else, “Is the seal easy to use?”

Ding Hanbai picked up a sheet of Xuan paper from the desk and walked to the window. “It is. I've been stamping a lot of things with it lately.”

On the paper were two lines of running-grass script. It was a poem by Tagore, surprisingly. Chinese calligraphy paired with a foreign poem—Ji Shenyu found it a little amusing. The paper was spread out on the windowsill. Ding Hanbai pressed down the Rose Seal, stamping his own name.

Everything was fine. But accidents always happen when everything is fine.

The cluster of passionate red and white roses huddled together, countless blossoms overlapping and interlinking—red, white, blooming, or budding. A side branch stuck out, even finer than the pine needles Ji Shenyu had drawn. Just as Ding Hanbai gripped it, one branch snapped.

The remaining half of the small branch became a rose thorn.

The accident happened so fast that Ding Hanbai was stunned. But Ji Shenyu reacted before him, snatching the seal back. Left with only the white paper, he asked, “What are you doing?”

Ji Shenyu said, “I'm taking it back. It's not a gift anymore.”

Ding Hanbai was shocked. “You can do that?!”

The tiny broken flower lay on the paper, the blossom no thicker than the tip of a chopstick. Ji Shenyu picked it up, wondering how to fix it. It was too fine; it couldn't even be glued. At most, he could wrap it with a fine thread, but it would be a flawed piece no matter what.

Ding Hanbai's large hand reached out, declaring he would fix it himself and demanding its return.

Ji Shenyu said with great disappointment, “You didn't like it to begin with. If it's not fixed right, it'll prick your hand. If it's fixed but flawed, you'll only dislike it more and more. It's better to just forget it.”

Ding Hanbai suddenly remembered: He had said he liked lilacs.

In that moment, Ji Shenyu left, clutching the Rose Seal.

What was this? He had basically lifted a lilac only to drop it on his own foot.