Chapter 3 Declutter

Chapter 3: Detachment

Jiang Ruotang didn't bother wondering what Lin Lu might think upon receiving that message. He was psyched about his current life.

Excitedly, he opened his wardrobe, revealing his "Beicheng Guangyao Middle School" uniform and other casual clothes—styles that were unmistakably his taste at eighteen. Their texture, their scent… everything confirmed this was real.

Pulling open the desk drawer, he found a thick stack of completely untouched homework assignments.

Jiang Ruotang pressed his palm against them and took a deep breath—three days left before school started, and this pile was entirely blank. Starting off on nightmare mode already!

Then he remembered something and hurried to the adjacent room, flipping on the light as he entered…

“Holy crap—”

The space was packed to the brim with Bai Yingchuan merchandise.

Life-size cutouts, body pillows, postcards, card albums, throw blankets…

It was like a mini warehouse.

“Was I really this obsessed?”

This was full-blown hoarder behavior!

The moment Jiang Ruotang took a step forward, the slight tremor triggered a domino effect. The framed photos and albums piled atop the shelves came crashing down, and a hardcover photobook landed squarely on his head.

“Ow—!” Jiang Ruotang crouched on the floor, tears welling up instantly.

Instant karma much?

“Tang Tang! What happened?”

Hearing his yelp, Jiang Huaiyuan rushed upstairs.

“Dad, I’m fine… I just didn’t realize there was so much clutter in here…”

“Clutter…?” Jiang Huaiyuan glanced around. “Didn’t you say these were all your treasures and forbid anyone from touching them?”

“Heh…”

Only a lunatic would treat this trash like treasure!

Jiang Ruotang shook his head. But since all this was still here, he was certain—he really had gone back to being eighteen.

“Dad, it’s nothing… Let’s go back down for breakfast.”

With that, he pulled his father downstairs.

“You didn’t close the door to your ‘treasure trove’…” Jiang Huaiyuan glanced back.

“Treasure trove…” Jiang Ruotang’s lips twitched. “Leave it open. It’ll get musty without airflow.”

After his cancer diagnosis, Jiang Ruotang had been unable to eat many things—or even if they were right in front of him, he’d had no appetite. Now, faced with a table full of breakfast dishes, his mouth watered, and his stomach growled loudly.

The _xiaolongbao_ skins were chewy, the filling studded with crunchy _water chestnuts_.

The _har gow cheung fun_ were translucent, revealing pink shrimp inside, drizzled with "Sister Juan’s" signature sauce—heavenly.

Watching his son devour breakfast, Jiang Huaiyuan couldn’t help but ask, “Yesterday you were complaining that Sister Juan only makes the same few breakfasts and you were sick of them…”

“These few things? Absolute perfection.”

During the years he’d spent as Lin Lu and Bai Yingchuan’s gofer, he’d risen up before dawn—especially when Bai Yingchuan had events or filming, often skipping breakfast entirely. Occasionally, when Lin Lu visited the set, he’d thoughtfully bring KFC breakfast sandwiches for the crew, but Jiang Ruotang would be too busy to eat properly, just scarfing down a few bites.

Later, during his hospitalization, it was Zhao Yunshu or Zhao Zhangfeng who brought him breakfast. But they had work, so they’d just grab something from a clean, hygienic place and drop it off at the hospital.

Eating a leisurely homemade breakfast like this felt like a lifetime ago for Jiang Ruotang.

He’d almost forgotten—he’d once been a rich kid, the "Young Master" of a film company.

Jiang Ruotang polished off every last bit of garlic chives on his plate, while Jiang Huaiyuan and Sister Juan exchanged glances, as if wondering if this was still their finicky young master.

Sister Juan tentatively asked, “There’s still some _douhua_ in the kitchen… Ruo Tang, would you like some?”

Jiang Ruotang nodded vigorously. “Yes!”

“Sweet _douhua_ okay?”

“Life’s hard enough—of course I want it sweet.” He nodded again.

He suddenly remembered—his past self had only ever eaten savory _douhua_, the kind topped with minced meat and sauce. But sometimes, when Sister Juan was too busy in the mornings to prepare the sauce, she’d make sweet _douhua_ instead, and Jiang Ruotang would refuse to touch it out of spite.

“Ah… I’ll go get it for you.”

Sister Juan thought to herself—was the sun rising west today? The young master was actually eating sweet _douhua_.

Had the boy gone out to do construction work last night? Since waking up, he hadn’t been picky at all!

After breakfast, Jiang Huaiyuan headed out, only to turn and see his son leaning over the stair railing, watching him.

“Uh… I’m off.”

Jiang Huaiyuan’s voice carried a hint of nervousness—he’d made plans to go cycling with Zhao Yunshu.

Previously, his son had been vehemently against him remarrying, flying into a rage at the mere mention of Zhao Yunshu.

Now, as he left, Jiang Huaiyuan was half-expecting his son to throw a tantrum.

“Yeah, go ahead.” Jiang Ruotang tilted his head generously. “That outfit’s not bad—not too dated.”

“Really?” Jiang Huaiyuan rubbed the back of his head.

For an acclaimed director, he had zero authority in front of his son.

“Auntie Zhao doesn’t like steak—she has a sensitive throat and prefers lighter food. Hey, have you taken her to "Mingyue Ge"? Their _Lotus Pond Moonlight_ dish would suit her taste.”

“Huh?” Jiang Huaiyuan was baffled. What was his son saying?

“Don’t just drag her around on foot at night—she’ll be tired after biking all day. Take her to a movie instead. She’s not into art films—she likes effects-driven movies.”

“…Oh.” Jiang Huaiyuan walked out, almost tripping on the porch.

After walking a few paces, he suddenly spun around, rushed back inside, and yanked the door open—only to find his son still perched there.

“Ruo Tang… Were you serious just now? You… you’re fine with this?”

A smirk tugged at Jiang Ruotang’s lips. “You’re my dad—can’t you man up? Even if I said no, could you really stop your feelings?”

Jiang Huaiyuan was silent for over ten seconds. He and his ex-wife had divorced when Jiang Ruotang was still very young. His ex-wife, a freelance photographer, traveled all over the world and died in an accident when Jiang Ruotang was six. Meanwhile, Jiang Huaiyuan was often away filming movies and rarely by his son's side.

Because of this, Jiang Huaiyuan carried a deep sense of guilt toward his son, and gave in to his every demand. To some extent, Jiang Ruotang had been spoiled beyond repair by him.

When his son heard that he was growing close to Zhao Yunshu, he reacted strongly. Somehow, Jiang Ruotang had picked up baseless rumors that once Zhao Yunshu married into the family, she would seize control of the Jiang family's shares in Universe Pictures, take all their money, and leave Jiang Ruotang broke.

This idea had taken root in Jiang Ruotang’s mind, and no matter how much Jiang Huaiyuan tried to explain, Jiang Ruotang remained deeply resistant to Zhao Yunshu.

But now, Jiang Ruotang gave Jiang Huaiyuan a sense of openness and clarity, as if he had already gotten rid of all those messy thoughts from his mind without needing any explanation.

Jiang Huaiyuan looked into his son’s eyes and said earnestly, "I like Zhao Yunshu. I'm serious."

"How much you mean it, I don’t know. But I doubt there’s anyone in this world who would treat you better than Auntie Zhao." Jiang Ruotang propped his head on his arm and smiled.

At that moment, Jiang Huaiyuan’s eyes got red.

"Then... I’ll head out."

"Yeah." Jiang Ruotang nodded.

Jiang Huaiyuan tilted his head, finally noticing something. "The way you said 'yeah'... sounds more like a father than me!"

"About time you noticed!" Jiang Ruotang replied, amused.

Jiang Huaiyuan chuckled again, turned around, took a deep breath as if a weight had been lifted from his heart, and walked toward the door.

Jiang Ruotang watched his father’s back as he left, imagining his future family in his mind—a goofy, sweet dad, a kind and upright but shy mother, a Husky of a younger brother, and himself, reborn.

"Wait… The way he told me he liked Auntie Zhao sounded exactly like a son-in-law swearing an oath to his father-in-law. Just what kind of image do I have in my dad’s mind?" Jiang Ruotang rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

Turning around, he saw his collection again.

The old Jiang Ruotang, once he lost interest, would have simply called the garbage collectors to haul all this stuff away.

When he was done, he was done.

But after experiencing hardship, Jiang Ruotang had come to understand the value of money. Even though the room full of merchandise was nothing compared to the allowance Jiang Huaiyuan gave him, he still wanted to get back as much money as possible.

Hey, money's money!

He left a message in Bai Yingchuan’s fan group, explaining that he was about to enter his final year of high school and needed to focus entirely on his college entrance exams. Rather than selling his carefully collected merchandise by weight, he preferred to sell it to fans who genuinely loved "Brother Ying Chuan."

Before this, he had been a high roller in the fan group, often organizing airport welcomes and support events at his own expense. He was known as the "Daddy Warbucks" and a superfan. Many fans tried to persuade him to stay, and quite a few were interested in his collection, believing it to be authentic.

Jiang Ruotang had prepared himself to take photos of each item and post them online one by one. But to his surprise, a generous fan in the group asked him to film a video and then offered a lump sum to buy everything in one go. Jiang Ruotang was thrilled—he hadn’t expected such good luck.

It just went to show… Bai Yingchuan-related merchandise had a good resale market.

Sister Juan stood dumbfounded at the entrance of the "treasure room," watching as Jiang Ruotang, in an apron with sleeves rolled up, packed all the items he was crazy about yesterday into cardboard boxes.

"Ruo Tang… Are you really selling all these?"

"Yeah, selling them. Sister Juan, help me with the tape." Jiang Ruotang lifted his chin.

"Don’t come whining tonight wanting them back…"

Seeing Sister Juan hesitate, Jiang Ruotang immediately raised his right hand. "If I regret it, I’ll perform a handstand and eat crap right here!"

Sister Juan froze, her mind going blank: Did Ruo Tang just say he’d eat… what?

Jiang Ruotang: Jesus, what did I just say? It’s like Zhao Zhangfeng possessed me.

That guy was always swearing to eat crap, and now he’s wearing off on me.

It wasn’t until the moving truck parked outside their house that Sister Juan realized Jiang Ruotang was truly serious about selling all these "treasures."

With the help of the delivery workers, it took half an hour to empty the room.

Jiang Ruotang put his hands on his hips and exhaled deeply.

Finally, it felt refreshing.

"This room is actually pretty big."

Standing in the center of the room, the golden evening light streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on Jiang Ruotang’s face.

Sister Juan came to call him for dinner and stopped short at the sight.

She had always known Jiang Ruotang was good-looking, but spoiled by his father, he could be a brat sometimes, which naturally made him less likable on occasion.

This was the first time she had seen such a serene and peaceful expression on his face, making her feel unexpectedly fond.

"Sister Juan, dinner’s ready?" Jiang Ruotang turned his face toward her with a smile.

"Yeah, it’s ready." Sister Juan glanced around. "What are you planning to put in this room next?"

From her expression, Jiang Ruotang could tell she assumed he had fallen for another idol and was clearing space for new merchandise.

"A baby brother," Jiang Ruotang said.

"Huh? What?"