Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Naturally, Mu Yuman and Sun Qi had to be informed about Ji Mian's return. However, this year's Spring Festival was the first New Year after Mu Yuman and Gu Ting's marriage, and they were vacationing in a romantic southern destination, so they wouldn't be back for another two days.

Sun Qi had gone to Xu Xiaoxiao's hometown for the New Year and would also return a bit later.

This worked out perfectly for Duan Zhuo.

He stuck to Ji Mian like glue, tagging along wherever Ji Mian went.

But Ji Mian hadn't yet adjusted to the shift in their relationship. Previously, he had always respected Duan Zhuo as an elder, always looking up to him.

Now, their relationship had suddenly become equal, and he even seemed to hold the upper hand.

Sometimes, he would casually call out "Brother," and Duan Zhuo would inexplicably plant a kiss on him. It always took Ji Mian by surprise, occasionally leaving him flustered.

On the sixth day of the Lunar New Year, most workers, loaded with luggage and bags stuffed with hometown goodies they couldn't turn down, headed off to various cities to kick off a busy new year.

At noon, when the sun was shining brightly, Ji Mian went downstairs to bask in the sun and saw at least twenty people hurriedly hauling their luggage.

Duan Zhuo offered his reclining chair to Ji Mian, while he occupied Ji Mian's special small stool.

Tall and long-legged, he sat hunched on the low stool, looking quite out of place.

Ji Mian couldn't help but smile, his light brown, fluffy hair almost glowing in the sunlight.

The smile matched the image in Duan Zhuo's memory from years ago.

He stared intently, thinking how great it was that this smile was his.

Another young man in a thick down jacket passed by the woodcarving shop, pulling a black suitcase with a bulging woven bag of odds and ends slung over his shoulder, clashing with his look.

"When are you leaving?" Duan Zhuo asked Ji Mian.

"I’m thinking maybe after the Lantern Festival? There’s nothing pressing at school right now, so I might stay until the end of February."

Duan Zhuo did the math; there were still half a month until the end of February.

"What about the company? Didn’t you have an internship?"

Although Duan Zhuo had never actively inquired about Ji Mian's situation over the past few months, whenever Mu Yuman and Sun Qi mentioned Ji Mian's name, he acted like he didn’t care but listened more closely than anyone, not missing a single word.

So, he was aware that Ji Mian was still interning at the company.

"The internship ended before the New Year. It was over when I came back by car a few days ago, and I also moved out of the apartment."

As he spoke, Ji Mian looked at Duan Zhuo and his small stool and couldn't help but laugh again. "Bro, let’s swap back."

He still preferred the old days when Duan Zhuo would sit here sunbathing, and he’d sneak in a nap beside him.

"...You sit here. I'll go work."

The post-New Year period is always the busiest time of the year, as all the orders accumulated during the holiday need to be dealt with.

The day after Ji Mian returned, Duan Zhuo stopped taking new orders, only accepting a few non-urgent appointments scheduled for after March.

However, the backlog of orders from before the New Year couldn't be postponed. During this time, Duan Zhuo shamelessly camped out on the third floor every day, not even opening the shop door.

After dragging it out for several days, any more delays would mean missing the delivery deadline.

It wasn’t about the money from these orders, but he disliked exceeding the delivery date for the ones he had already taken.

Duan Zhuo had always completed his work before the delivery date, a tradition he inherited from his grandfather. It was a small but lasting tradition passed down in this aged little shop, and Duan Zhuo wanted to uphold it.

Ji Mian wanted to say he could help, but after four years of university, his skills had regressed to the level of when he first arrived.

Now, he could only help Duan Zhuo plane wood… and even carving a potato might be a challenge for him.

“I can… help plane the wood…” he said, embarrassed.

Duan Zhuo smiled as he took Ji Mian’s right hand, toying with the soft pads of his fingers.

“No need,” he said. His hands were meant for writing.

Seizing the moment when the road was empty, Duan Zhuo quickly kissed Ji Mian’s fingertip.

Ji Mian was speechless.

Duan Zhuo stood up. “Go upstairs after three; it’s cold outside,” he instructed, though his gaze lingered on Ji Mian’s hair and face, unwilling to look away.

Ji Mian nodded. “Alright.”

*

By the time Duan Zhuo finished up in the shop, it was already eight in the evening. During that time, Ji Mian had gone up and down several times, just to stay by Duan Zhuo’s side.

But after six, Duan Zhuo still sent him upstairs. The shop had no heating, and Ji Mian was especially sensitive to the cold. Even with the air conditioner on, he couldn’t stop shivering.

Seeing him shiver pitifully, Duan Zhuo quickly sent him away.

At eight-ten, after tidying up and locking the shop, Duan Zhuo skipped the second floor and went straight to the third.

If Ji Mian stayed here a few more months, Duan Zhuo might have to consider moving to the third floor.

When he opened the bedroom door, Ji Mian was sitting on the bed in his pajamas, legs tucked under the blanket for warmth, a closed book on the quilt.

This wasn’t his usual bedtime, but Ji Mian was afraid of the cold, and the house had no heating—most southern homes didn’t—so he had to go to bed early and wrap up.

He had just finished reading and was idly playing with the lighter Duan Zhuo had left in the bedroom at noon, mimicking Duan Zhuo’s usual way of using it, opening and closing it, listening to the crisp, pleasant “click” of the metal.

Seeing this, Duan Zhuo paused as he closed the door.

The scene before him could be compared to the feeling of seeing a loved one with bare thighs, wearing his shirt—though it wasn’t quite that intense.

“Brother,” Ji Mian looked up briefly before lowering his head again, turning the metal object in his hand and continuing the idle game of opening and closing.

Without hesitation, Duan Zhuo said, “If you like it, keep it.”

“?” Ji Mian blinked, confused. “But I don’t smoke.”

“Oh, it’s yours.”

“…” Ji Mian felt like he was talking to a brick wall.

“Brother, is this your only lighter?” he asked, thinking of something.

“Yes.”

Ji Mian immediately clutched the small metal object in his hand, cautiously testing, “Then, brother, if you give this to me, will you buy a new lighter later?”

Duan Zhuo suppressed a smile. “No.”

This meant he was going to quit smoking.