"Morning, Uncle Zheng."

"Morning, Xiao Yan. You look a bit off today. Didn’t sleep well?"

Uncle Zheng’s complexion was much better than yesterday’s, his booming voice rumbling like distant thunder. Qi Yan, however, seemed slightly drowsy.

"Yeah, just a little insomnia," Qi Yan mumbled, rubbing his sleepy eyes and yawning.

"You sure you’re okay? If you’re tired, take the day off. Car washing isn’t easy work. One day won’t matter—but wrecking your health would be putting the cart before the horse."

"I’m fine, Uncle Zheng. A short rest’ll fix me. No big deal." Qi Yan insisted stubbornly.

His commission pay hinged directly on the number of cars washed. He couldn’t slack off over minor discomfort.

"Your body’s your own business. We don’t have strict rest days—weekends are busiest. Pick a weekday to swap out. Just give me a heads-up so I can rearrange less urgent repair orders."

"Got it. Thanks for caring, Uncle Zheng."

"Then let’s open up!"

With a heave, Uncle Zheng lifted the garage’s roller shutter. Another hectic day began.

"Senpai! Senpai! What’re you doing?"

Midway through washing a car, a playful voice chirped beside him. This little demon truly wouldn’t let him escape—no matter where he hid, she’d sniff him out.

"As you can see: washing cars. Back off. I’m about to rinse."

Qi Yan grabbed the pressure washer, blasting foam off the chassis. Then he took a microfiber towel, scrubbing grime from tight corners.

"Senpai, senpai—how’s this car-washing towel different from face towels?"

"Better water absorption. Doesn’t shed lint or dye. Otherwise? Not much difference."

"Eh… Does washing a car really need so many steps?"

"Like polishing shoes—it’s not just cleaning. You gotta make the paint shine. Make the car look brand-new. That’s how customers stay happy and keep coming back."

"So car washing’s an art too…" Su Shiyu sighed, cupping her cheeks.

"Every job’s an art. Even street beggars have techniques: how to spin sob stories for sympathy, which streets to work, avoiding other beggars’ turf—it’s all studied."

"Senpai knows so much… Did you *try* begging before?"

"I’m giving examples! Examples!"

Qi Yan instinctively raised a hand to flick her stubborn forehead—but caught himself. His gloves were soaked, smeared with unidentifiable gunk. He awkwardly lowered his arm.

"Shouldn’t you be in class? How’re you free to wander around?"

"Donghei Public High hasn’t sorted my enrollment yet. They’ve never had a cram class here. Most failed college applicants either marry locally or leave for work. And they’ve never handled special art-track students. The school’s still debating which class to shove me into…" Su Shiyu grumbled.

"Why not Donghei Private Academy? They’ve got tons of art and music students. Probably even pro private tutors."

With Su Shiyu’s background, getting into Donghei Private should’ve been effortless.

Among special-track students, athletes were the most common—training hard to offset low academics. Art students were widespread too, though studio fees and supplies cost more.

Music students—vocal, instrumental, dance—relied heavily on innate talent: musicality, rhythm sense. Without childhood training, three years of cramming rarely paid off. Better to just study hard for the gaokao.

Especially instrumentalists. Instruments and lessons meant huge expenses.

Many lacked artistic talent, but art exams were rigid. Even without dazzling skill, diligent practice could secure decent scores.

"I refuse to mingle with those money-grubbing snobs! And those stuffy old professors? I’d rather self-study than listen to their bragging." Su Shiyu muttered under her breath.

"You don’t know how lucky you are. People sell their homes just to get into that school!"

Qi Yan lectured while scrubbing, just like old times—him painting, her watching; him spouting life advice, her arguing back.

Most teachers would’ve choked on her defiance. But Qi Yan wasn’t rigid. Same age as her, he understood her rebelliousness—even if life had already ground down his own edges. He sympathized, but couldn’t agree.

As if the universe targeted Qi Yan’s exhaustion today, customers poured in nonstop. Barely seeing off one family, he greeted another—a trio stepping out of a silver BMW.

"Welcome! Three guests? This way to the lounge," Su Shiyu chirped, dashing forward.

Her sweet smile and polished manners won over customers faster than Qi Yan’s car-wash-soap stink ever could.

Though new here, she guided them effortlessly to the stone tables in the backyard.

"Xiao Yan, is that girl your girlfriend?" Uncle Zheng asked.

"No! No way! I’m not lucky enough for a cute girlfriend like her. She’s just my benefactor’s little sister." Qi Yan denied quickly.

"That girl’s got *meaning* in her eyes when she looks at you. Don’t miss your chance. These days? Girls who don’t mind dirt, hard work, or poverty are rare."

Qi Yan could only smile bitterly. Su Shiyu had abandoned CAFA’s offer to follow him to provincial art school. Now she’d chased him to this backwater town to retake exams. He wasn’t some harem protagonist with negative EQ—he saw her feelings clearly. But he couldn’t respond. Only pretend not to notice.

He didn’t deserve her. They lived in different worlds. No future there. Besides, Qi Yan was too busy scrambling for tomorrow’s rice to spare time for romance.

He’d just kept a lonely girl company during her darkest days. She’d mistaken comfort for love. Years later, she’d laugh at her own foolishness.

"Thank you for your patronage! Hope to serve you again!"

Su Shiyu skipped to Qi Yan, twirling. "Senpai, work’s kinda fun! Should I drop out and get a job too?"

"Give it a week. You’ll miss school life when the novelty wears off."

Su Shiyu sighed. "After one summer, senpai’s gotten so boring…"

"I’ve always been boring."

"Today you’re not your usual energetic self. Like a kidney-deficient old man. Did you play naughty games with your cute little sister last night? Or take out all your lust on your defenseless sister? Ahhh… so… so enviable."

Arms crossed, she swayed with a blush, lost in some R-18 daydream.

"Seriously—what eroge have you been playing lately?"

"Hmm! A little-sister-themed adult visual novel. The brother slips sedatives into his sister’s favorite drink, gropes her while she ‘sleeps’… then loses control and takes her virginity. But turns out she was faking sleep the whole time, luring him on! Trapped between blood ties and desire, body and heart collide as they spiral down a forbidden path. Super addictive! And the CGs are gorgeous—I *highly* recommend it, senpai!" Su Shiyu gushed, oblivious.

Yes. The seemingly perfect genius Su Shiyu hid a scandalous secret: she devoured 18+ RPG eroge and bishōjo games. A true veteran otaku, she pursued every heroine’s route with "universal love"—despite lacking the chest size to match.

"I’ll pass. I never touch those games when I have a real sister."

"Eh? Is senpai scared his sister’ll find his perverted hobbies? Or scared he’ll *actually* get urges for her? Well… I get it. I’m a normal guy too. If I were you? I’d have already committed unforgivable sins. Hehehe…" She grinned like a creep.

"Look. A little raunchiness can be charming. But you’re overdoing it. Tone it down, or no one’ll marry you."

"Then… will senpai adopt this stray dog? You already have a pet cat. One more stray won’t hurt, right?"

"Su Shiyu—it’s almost noon. I need to go cook lunch. Shouldn’t you head back to your homestay? Your hosts must worry when you wander off."

Qi Yan glanced pointedly at his bare wrist, forcing a topic change.

Su Shiyu drooped. "Senpai… how many times must I say it? Call me Shiyu. Or Xiao Yu." She perked up. "But yeah, I should go. Can I take a flyer?"

"Take as many as you want. Though what’ll you do with them? Fold paper planes?"

"Recruit customers! Bring in referrals! Today was fun. Chatting with senpai’s always the best."

"Look both ways before crossing streets. No running red lights."

"I’m not a kid, senpai."

Su Shiyu stuck out her pink tongue, then hopped away until she vanished from Qi Yan’s sight.