Spring Equinox, Summer Solstice, Autumn Harvest, Winter Commencement—the seasons turn, all things cycle. This eternal truth holds unless Earth stops orbiting its star, a sight I won't see in my lifetime. To the vast world, I'm as insignificant as anyone. So, if even someone abnormal like me can find a home, I hope it's Youjia Bookstore. Truly.

Thwack!

As I dozed off, a palm-leaf fan whacked my head again—not as heavy-handed as Nan Dongye's blows. Just enough to pry open my hazy eyes without sending me face-first onto the desk.

Before me was a delicate face. A girl in a dress smiled warmly, holding two books. Sweat beads dotted Madam Nalan's temples in the sweltering, airless bookstore as she sat fanning herself.

Well, I'd once hoped this place would be my haven. I shot a resentful glance at the shopkeeper checking Little Qianqiu's homework, realizing my duty.

"Forty-seven fifty. Thanks for your patronage!"

I slipped the books into a fancy bag, catching the titles: Mad Sheep and... Princess Story. Totally different genres.

"No change needed."

The girl who loved both horror mysteries and girls' romance magazines placed a fifty-yuan bill on the counter. As she left, she gave me a slight smile. "Suits you well."

The bookstore wasn't too busy, so I knew most regulars. Every evening walk, this unnamed girl picked one or two favorite books. Her first Princess Story purchase, her first greeting to me—but no matter how polite, I hated such comments.

Thwack!

Another whack.

"I dislike lazy people. Next time, I must hear 'Welcome back, Master' to customers—and a smile. Smiles are essential."

I forced the fakest grin possible. "Master, is this a restaurant or a bookstore?"

"Not to me—to customers!" Sister Qin's next strike missed as I dodged. Absentmindedly, she added, "That maid café on the corner thrives. We should learn their business model."

"Maid café? Where? Uh—no, I'm not selling my soul or body here!"

"Say such ill-mannered things again, and I'll discipline you for your mother. As a shop attendant yourself, what right do you have to mock dedicated maids?"

"I'm not! And I'm no shop attendant!"

It wasn't mockery—it was longing. I'd rather hear "Welcome back, Master" than say it. The feelings were incomparable.

"Dissatisfied with my policy, then?"

"Dare not. I just think business would boom if Sister Qin wore this outfit."

Youjia Bookstore's owner smiled faintly. "Smooth talker. If I do everything, what's your role?"

I pondered seriously. "Take care of Qianqiu?"

Sister Qin finally met my eyes, unusually focused. Her stare burned my cheeks. After a pause, she teased, "Take care of yourself first."

"Don't treat me like a kid. I can manage alone."

"Entering internet cafés legally doesn't make you an adult. Besides... isn't someone who says that still a child?"

My words faltered; no rebuttal came.

Sister Qin sighed, resuming her lecherous grin as her hands roamed my arms. "Isn't this nice? Such a cute boy!"

"So you remember the gender on my household register!?"

"Can't boys wear skirts? Who told you they can't?"

Nalan Qinxue's expression turned strange—as if I were the eccentric one. It nearly made me doubt my life.

I wrestled with thoughts but found no answer. Frustrated, I snapped, "Do I need telling? It's common sense! Common sense!"

Sister Qin closed her textbook, straightening her lazy posture. "Common sense is basic knowledge for sound-minded adults. Clothing—a form of self-expression—isn't included."

"Huh? But, but..."

"But everyone thinks that way?"

The shopkeeper rested her chin, a faint sarcasm in her eyes—not at me, but the idea. I could only nod dumbly.

"'Everyone'... such a boring word. In another era, men with long hair and robes were normal. Who knows next century's trends? You're still a child, Jiang Lan. Only children care about norms. You waste time on others' opinions. Don't become boring—I dislike boring people."

"I don't care about opinions!"

"Of course~ You just want others to think you don't care, don't you?"

Speechless. Her messy logic left no opening. Only Madam Nalan could spout such nonsense so earnestly.

"So, enjoy your unique advantages!"

"Even if you say that, I won't be happy. Boys dressed like this are unreasonable, unscientific, abnormal. I'm no pervert!"

Not anymore...

"Pervert—is that your self-view, or a fantasy of others' eyes? No one sees you that way."

Disappointment flickered in Nalan Qinxue's gaze. It crushed me—I least wanted her misunderstanding.

My voice dripped with self-mockery. "Yeah, I am a pervert—just unrecognized. A man in a maid outfit isn't a pervert? Don't lecture me on definitions; I know them."

"How boring, Jiang Lan. I thought you'd be different."

"Sorry I'm not your preferred pervert, Master."

Madam Nalan ignored my sarcasm. Calmly, she said, "Your only abnormality is self-rejection. Your behavior is twisted—you qualify as a pervert. But what makes someone normal? Eating, sleeping, school, love, drifting to death? Everyone chooses differently. Why judge yourself by others' lives? Why not choose yours?"

"Sounds nice. But I've made my choice."

Her words might be right or wrong. I'd chosen poorly once; I wouldn't again.

"Is that so? Simple question: why keep your hair so long?"

"Well... too lazy to cut it."

"Really?"

"Of course! I'm busy, you know!"

"Liar!"

My heart lurched. A memory flashed: a sunset slope, a banyan tree. A girl lifted my chin, biting my ear playfully. "When your hair reaches your waist, shall I marry you?"

A cheesy line, sweetly spoken—devil's temptation. I'd been an idiot lost in fake romance. Did I still hope she'd return?

I didn't know. My reaction was fierce. Nonsense! Heresy! I grabbed paper-cutting scissors from the drawer, seizing my ponytail—but a warm hand stopped me faster.

Sister Qin sighed helplessly. "Can't you face yourself yet? Drop it. Take it off if you dislike it."

No doubt I'd been impulsive; my fingers trembled hotly. The topic had to end—a girl in bear pajamas stood on the loft stairs. Our loud voices had disturbed the little angel.

Nalan Qianqiu, curly hair askew with a cowlick, hugged an oversized Doraemon plushie. Rubbing her eyes, she complained, "Mom, you're bullying Little Qianqiu again."

Madam Nalan's expression warmed like spring. She slipped the scissors back unseen. "No—we're picking which day to take you to the amusement park."

"Really!?"

The shopkeeper nodded. I seized the excuse to retreat.

"It's late. You go."

She meant me. After today's outburst, even I couldn't bear myself; dismissal was expected. Silently changing clothes, I said, "Thank you for your care all this time."

Madam Nalan carried the little angel upstairs. Halfway, she turned, scratching her hair in frustration. "We're just closing early. What nonsense! Next lateness won't be so simple. You don't think I lack a maid café, do you?"

I froze, then fled Youjia Bookstore in panic.

Nalan Qinxue smiled wearily to herself. "Kids..."

"Mom."

"Hmm?"

Nalan Qianqiu mumbled seriously, "I've warned you—Mom or not, don't bully my boyfriend."

Nalan Qinxue chuckled, tapping Little Qianqiu's head. "Sleep, little scatterbrain."

"I mean it! And you can't steal him!"

"Alright, alright. Seriously, kids today are impossible..."

The late summer evening had cooled from vacation heat. Pedaling my bike, I chewed over the shopkeeper's words. Generation gap? Pervert resonance? What I hid became natural under Madam Nalan's maternal glow—making me feel uglier, more ashamed. Perhaps that's why I love Youjia Bookstore; adult charm outshines brats.

Turns out... I care deeply about opinions. Especially Sister Qin's—the one person I never wanted to see my pathetic side.

"Sigh. Today was awful. All that goodwill—probably gone... But why do I always like weird women?"

My future remained as dark and deep as my homeward path, thick with unknown secrets. One truth stood clear: I was still a child.

I have a dream—shameful to admit—to be a virtuous househusband. Seeing Madam and the little angel daily, pursuing my hobbies. With Sister Qin and Little Qianqiu, they'd surely get along well with Xiaoyu...