A black sedan pulled up to the auto repair shop, following the signs and flyers.

Qi Yan placed his right hand over his chest, bowing slightly. "Welcome! How may I assist you today?"

His part-time restaurant experience ensured flawless customer service.

The car window rolled down. A middle-aged man leaned out. "Heard you offer car washes here?"

"Yes, sir."

"What’s your method? Just hosing it down?"

"Absolutely not. Standard procedure: pre-rinse with high-pressure water, wet the paintwork, apply cleaning solution, then scrub every seam and surface—no spot left untouched. Your car will shine like new."

"Sounds professional. How much per wash?"

"Fifty yuan."

"Alright, let’s try it... Any place to sit? Or I’ll wait in the car."

"This way, please."

The repair shop stood right outside Uncle Zheng’s home—Zheng Maocai, as Qi Yan had learned from daily chats. Uncle Lin’s full name was Lin Shengcai. Both uncles had sons. Uncle Lin’s boy was diligent, studying up north and prepping for grad school exams. Uncle Zheng’s son, however, had flunked two years from skipping classes. His gambling exploits were town legend.

Qi Yan guided the guest to stone tables and chairs beneath a banyan tree in the courtyard. "Tea or mineral water?"

A chess set sat on the table for guests’ amusement. With only one visitor today, the man idly moved pieces against himself.

"Just mineral water."

Qi Yan nearly sighed in relief. Tea meant extra work. The mineral water cost one yuan a bottle—wholesale from Uncle Lin. Cheap and refreshing.

"Enjoy," he said, handing over the bottle before retreating to start the wash.

Washing a car took about thirty minutes. To Qi Yan, it felt closest to shoe-shining—both service jobs cleaning things underfoot.

He usually had two or three customers a day. Perfect. Too many, and he’d be overwhelmed. Though not exhausting, the work left his back aching by afternoon.

"Sir, your car’s ready for inspection."

"Huh? Oh!" The guest, absorbed in chess, looked up. He circled the gleaming sedan, nodding. "Excellent. Even the tight spots are spotless. Not like those big city shops cutting corners."

He slapped a hundred-yuan bill into Qi Yan’s hand. "Keep the change. You’ve earned it."

Qi Yan stifled a wry smile at the "kept boy" feeling. "Thank you for your patronage."

"Xiao Yan! Toss me the T8 star screwdriver—I left it on the workbench!" Uncle Zheng’s voice echoed from under a car.

"Coming, Uncle Zheng!"

"It’s getting late. Head home early. No more customers today."

Qi Yan glanced at the blazing crimson clouds on the horizon. "Then I’ll take my leave. I’ll lock the payment in the drawer cabinet."

Leaving early meant seeing his sister sooner. His heart settled at the thought.

"Keep the money. Consider it advance wages. You look like you need it. Just tally the accounts later."

"I won’t refuse, then. See you tomorrow, Uncle Zheng."

"Tomorrow."

Qi Yan’s shadow stretched long under the setting sun. Zheng Maocai crawled out from under the car, wiping sweat and grime across his already dark face. He massaged his lower back with a sigh. "They say kids without parents grow up fast... There’s truth in that. If only my good-for-nothing son had half this boy’s sense. Must he wait until this old man’s in his grave to grow up?"

Meanwhile, behind a telephone pole, a girl in a fresh blue hoodie crunched a plain sugar popsicle. Her hands gripped the pole tightly, frustration snapping the icy stick with loud *crunches*.

"This isn’t the reunion I wanted! It should’ve been unexpected... magical! Not *here*... Senpai..."

"What are you scheming, Shigure?" A lazy, mature voice cut through the air. A woman in a sleek black skirt suit stood behind her, arms crossed. Even scowling, she radiated striking beauty.

"Ahaha! Sis Q— I mean, Teacher Qin!" The girl scratched her head, grinning sheepishly.

Teacher Qin flicked her forehead. "Still laughing? You dumped your luggage in my car and vanished! I worried you’d been kidnapped. Your sister entrusted you to me—I’m responsible for getting you into a top-tier university."

"*Cough*... No need to trouble yourself, Teacher Qin."

"Choosing a provincial art academy was baffling enough. Now you’re back in this rural town for prep school? Has your brilliant mind flooded? Or frozen from too many popsicles?"

"Neither. I just... want to relive senior year. Those months were the most precious of my life." She clasped her hands over her heart, wistful.

"You’re truly odd. Fine... I’ll never grasp a genius’s thoughts."

"Don’t call me ‘odd’ like my sister does. It sounds mocking. *You’re* the geniuses—her, a medical prodigy studying abroad; you, an artist who held solo exhibitions in Europe. Compared to you, I’m just a speck of dust. How can a firefly rival the moon?"

"My exhibition was just a side show during my master’s debut. He’s gone now... I’m only a struggling art teacher."

"Was your master Qi Lei? The famous landscape painter?"

"Hmm. Do you know someone named Qi Yan?"

"Oh—Xiao Yan? My junior at the academy. Talented. He’s your classmate, right? Your sketches even carry traces of the Qi School style. Who taught you?"

"Him. For one year. A serious, rigid... utterly clueless tutor."

"Don’t badmouth one teacher to another. But why ask about Xiao Yan? You don’t know him. Are you interested?"

"N-no! Not at all..."

The girl turned away, hiding a mischievous grin behind her hand—a devilish glint in her eyes.