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Tms 33

 Ji Mian naturally had to inform Mu Yuman and Sun Qi about his 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 little country in the south, returning in a couple of days.


Sun Qi was spending the New Year at Xu Xiaoxiao's hometown and would also be back later.


This was just as Duan Zhuang wanted.


He stayed close to Ji Mian, following him wherever he went to join in the fun.


But Ji Mian hadn't yet adjusted to the change in their relationship. Previously, he respected Duan Zhuang as an elder, habitually looking up to him.


Now, their relationship suddenly felt equal, and at times, he even held the upper hand.


Sometimes, when he casually called out “brother,” Duan Zhuang would inexplicably kiss him, catching Ji Mian off guard and occasionally making him feel flustered.


On the sixth day of the Lunar New Year, most workers were setting off to various cities with their luggage and bags filled with local specialties they couldn't refuse, ready to start a busy new year.


When the sun was shining brightly at noon, Ji Mian went downstairs to soak up some sun and saw more than twenty hurried men and women dragging their luggage.


Duan Zhuang offered his lounge chair for Ji Mian to sit in while he took Ji Mian's small stool.


He was tall with long legs, sitting awkwardly on the low stool, making him appear particularly pitiful.


Ji Mian couldn’t help but smile, his light brown fluffy short hair seemed to glow in the sunlight.


The smile overlapped with the image of Duan Zhuang from a few years ago.


He stared intently, thinking how wonderful it was; this smile belonged to him.


Another young man in a heavy down jacket, dragging a black suitcase and carrying a woven bag full of miscellaneous items that didn't match his appearance, passed by the wooden carving shop.


“When are you leaving?” Duan Zhuang asked Ji Mian.


“I don’t know. I think after the Lantern Festival? There's not much going on at school right now, so maybe I can stay until the end of February.”


Duan Zhuang calculated the days; there was still half a month until the end of February.


“What about the company? Aren't you interning there?”


Although Duan Zhuang 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 pretended not to care, but in reality, he listened more attentively than anyone else, missing not 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 finished a few days ago when I came back by bus, and I also returned the apartment.”


While speaking, Ji Mian glanced at Duan Zhuang and his small stool, unable to help but laugh again. “Brother, you should switch back.”


He still preferred the old way, where Duan Zhuang sat there in the sun while he dozed off beside him.


“... You sit there, I’ll go work.”


This period after the New Year was usually the busiest time of the year because all the orders accumulated during the holiday had to be processed.


The day after Ji Mian returned, Duan Zhuang paused taking new orders and only accepted 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 Zhuang stubbornly stayed on the third floor every day, not even opening the store door.


After dragging it out for several days, if he delayed any longer, he wouldn't be able to deliver on time.


He wasn’t particularly concerned about the money from these few orders; he simply disliked exceeding the delivery date for the orders he had already taken.


Duan Zhuang always completed his work before the delivery date. This was a principle inherited from his grandfather, a bit of spirit passed down in this small shop that had existed for years. It seemed insignificant, but Duan Zhuang wanted to uphold it.


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


Now he could only help Duan Zhuang with some wood shavings... he might even struggle to carve a potato.


“I can help with the wood...” he said, feeling embarrassed.


Duan Zhuang lifted the corners of his mouth, taking Ji Mian's right hand and playing with his impossibly soft fingertips.


“No need.” His hands were enough for holding a pen.


Taking advantage of the moment when the road was clear, Duan Zhuang quickly pressed a kiss on Ji Mian's fingertips.


Ji Mian: ...


Duan Zhuang stood up. “Wait until after three to go up; it’s cold outside.” As he advised, his gaze lingered on Ji Mian's hair and face, reluctant to look away.


Ji Mian nodded. “Okay.”



By eight o'clock in the evening, Duan Zhuang had finished the work at the shop. During that time, Ji Mian went upstairs and downstairs several times, lying beside Duan Zhuang to keep him company.


However, after six o'clock, Duan Zhuang insisted he go upstairs. The shop had no heating, and Ji Mian was particularly sensitive to the cold; even with the air conditioning on, he would shiver.


Seeing Ji Mian’s pitiful shivering state, Duan Zhuang immediately sent him away.


At eight ten, he tidied up the clutter in the shop, locked the door, and headed straight up to the third floor, skipping the second.


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


When he pushed the bedroom door open, he found Ji Mian sitting on the bed in his pajamas, his legs crossed and tucked under the blanket for warmth, with a closed book resting on the bed.


This wasn’t Ji Mian's usual bedtime, but he was afraid of the cold, and there was no heating at home—most houses in the south lack heating—so he had to go to bed early and cover himself with a blanket.


He had just finished reading and was fiddling with the lighter Duan Zhuang had left in the bedroom earlier that day, mimicking how Duan Zhuang usually used it, opening and closing it, listening to the crisp and pleasant “click” of the metal clashing.


Duan Zhuang paused in his movement when he saw this scene.


The sight could be compared to the feeling of seeing a loved one bare-legged, wearing one's shirt—though it didn’t quite reach that level.


“Brother.” Ji Mian looked up, then lowered his head again, spinning the metal object in his hand and continuing his tedious opening and closing game.


Without thinking, Duan Zhuang said, “If you like it, then keep it.”


“?” Ji Mian blinked in confusion. “But I don’t smoke.”


“Oh, it’s a gift for you.”


“…” Ji Mian felt as if he were playing a lute to a cow.


“Brother, do you only have this one lighter?” he suddenly asked, thinking of something.


“Yeah.”


Ji Mian immediately grasped the small metal piece in his hand, carefully probing, “Then brother, if you give this to me, will you still buy a new lighter in the future?”


Duan Zhuang suppressed a laugh and replied, “No more buying.”


This meant he was going to quit smoking!


Chapter 33: TMS

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