At first, I thought it was utter nonsense.

Inside the hospital room, Zhang Pa asked the two young men, “Still not leaving? Waiting for lunch?”

The two youths felt a surge of anger. Even if you’re the boss of the Four Monkeys, is this how you treat us? We’re neither under your command nor indebted to you—what right do you have to speak to us like this?

Just as they were about to flare up, Fang Zijiao suddenly sat up and spoke, “You should go.”

The two young men were momentarily stunned. They glanced at Zhang Pa, then at the Four Monkeys, who all gestured for them to leave quickly.

After a brief consideration, the two got up and said, “Alright, we’re off. Catch you later.” They swaggered out of the ward, flaunting their defiance and refusal to submit to Zhang Pa.

Zhang Pa, pointing at the Four Monkeys, said, “Goodbye then,” his tone far from friendly.

Lao Pi got out of bed and said, “Brother, we really didn’t do anything—you have to believe us.”

“I do believe you,” Zhang Pa replied. “Always have. Please believe me, truly—I believe in you.” With that, he headed home.

He checked the time, intending to get some work done at home, but remembering the call from the Palace Master, he hopped on his bicycle and rode to the Music Academy, calling ahead to let her know.

The Palace Master was teaching class. Zhang Pa invited her to lunch, she agreed, and they arranged a meeting place.

Time wasn’t pressing, so Zhang Pa decided to stop by the Billiards City near the station to collect his payment. The owner told him there were two thousand yuan in appearance fees deposited in the account. Sure enough, when he inquired, they acknowledged it. The money was handed over swiftly, and Zhang Pa signed for it.

The billiards hall was setting up for an event. This competition would have journalists, important guests, and was a provincial gathering of billiards enthusiasts. Advertising lightboxes had already been installed.

Zhang Pa took a quick look around, thanked the staff, and left with his money.

He still had over an hour before noon, so he pedaled slowly, letting his mind wander—a sort of impromptu sightseeing.

He spotted a gift shop holding a clearance sale. Many people were browsing the goods.

It was truly a clearance—the shop was empty save for some stacked cardboard boxes, with more boxes piled at the entrance. By the roadside, a stall was set up displaying all sorts of trinkets, both outdated and current. There were dozens of music boxes alone, in a variety of styles. There were also animal toys—a talking rabbit, a Tomcat that could mimic speech...

Zhang Pa wandered over. One music box caught his eye: a ballerina in white danced across a mirrored platform. Flip the switch, and she twirled around—a simple gadget. A sign hung in front: Fifteen yuan each.

“Ten yuan,” Zhang Pa offered.

The owner glanced at him. “Take it.”

Zhang Pa bought the music box and circled the stall, spotting several animal plushies—a large white rabbit, dog, and bear, all reasonably priced at one hundred yuan apiece.

After some consideration, he bought the big white bear, stuffed it into a large cardboard box, and rode his bike to the Music Academy.

Nearing his destination, he called Liu Xiaomei: “Got you a bear, left it at your door.” Then he headed straight for the dormitory, climbed to the eighth floor, set down the box, and the door swung open. “Tired?”

“Your room’s so empty,” Zhang Pa said. “Here’s a bear for company.” He opened the box, pulled out the bear, and tore off the plastic wrap.

Liu Xiaomei stared wide-eyed. “Is this how you give gifts?”

“This isn’t a gift,” Zhang Pa replied. “Your room’s bare—get a bear for company. If it gets dirty, just toss it.”

Liu Xiaomei took the bear, sighing. “Now I understand what it means to be oblivious to romance.” She noticed the small box in Zhang Pa’s hand. “What’s that?”

“That’s for me,” Zhang Pa said. “A music box.”

“Who gave it to you?” Liu Xiaomei asked.

“I bought it,” Zhang Pa said. “The shop’s closing, everything’s cheap.”

“My bear too?” Liu Xiaomei asked.

“Yeah,” Zhang Pa admitted honestly.

“I was going to invite you to lunch, but forget it. You can go,” Liu Xiaomei said. Though she spoke thus, she didn’t close the door, as if waiting for Zhang Pa to step inside.

Zhang Pa remained truthful. “I’m having lunch with someone else.”

Liu Xiaomei’s eyes widened instantly. “Say that again.”

Zhang Pa chuckled. “I owe someone a meal—gotta return the favor.”

Upon hearing this, Liu Xiaomei considered it. “Will you take me?”

“Of course,” Zhang Pa replied. “You can come as my family member.”

“In your dreams! You think a meal will win me over? Goodbye.” Liu Xiaomei said, “Remember: practice vocals, guitar, and dance!” With that, she retreated into her room, shutting the door with a bang.

Zhang Pa stuffed the plastic wrap into the box. Just as he picked it up, the door opened again and Liu Xiaomei handed him a plastic bag. “Take out my trash.”

“Yes, teacher,” Zhang Pa replied, taking the bag and carrying the box downstairs.

After dumping the rubbish, he cycled to the academy entrance.

Truth be told, he wanted to give the Palace Master a gift, but he didn’t dare. His presence had already caused friction between her and her boyfriend—if he presented a gift now...

Yet not giving a gift felt wrong after so many years apart. After much deliberation, he visited a nearby sports shop and bought a pair of women’s sneakers, bringing them straight to the restaurant.

Soon, the Palace Master arrived with her backpack and sat down. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Not long. Let’s order,” Zhang Pa replied.

So they ate. Zhang Pa asked nothing, focusing solely on his food. The Palace Master had something on her mind as well, remaining mostly silent. During the meal, Liu Fei called her, and she stepped outside to answer, returning after a brief exchange.

Zhang Pa felt he couldn’t remain silent any longer. “Did you have a fight?”

“Mm,” the Palace Master said. “He doesn’t trust me.”

“It’s my fault,” Zhang Pa said, picking up the shopping bag. “My apology—no complaints about the style, alright?”

The Palace Master took it, opened it, and smiled. “It’s nice.” She checked the shoe size. “Perfect.”

“Not going to try them on?” Zhang Pa asked.

“No need.” The Palace Master asked, “What have you been doing these years?”

“Not much—just drifting,” Zhang Pa replied. Then he added, “Please tell your boyfriend I’m sorry.”

At the mention of ‘boyfriend,’ the Palace Master looked at him, but said nothing.

Zhang Pa truly didn’t know what to say. He liked her, liked her deeply—so much so that he was cautious, so cautious he didn’t dare approach.

The Palace Master smiled and asked if he wanted a drink.

“Can’t drink—driving,” Zhang Pa replied.

“You drove?”

“No, bicycle,” Zhang Pa answered.

The Palace Master laughed, and after a while said, “Every minute with you feels easy. It’s really nice.”

Zhang Pa was at a loss for words.

A strange feeling came over him—a sense of guilt toward the Palace Master, and a peculiar pressure, as if he’d wasted her time. He thought for a moment and said, “As long as you’re happy, that’s good.”

The Palace Master smiled. “Why does it feel like chatting online?”

Zhang Pa laughed too.

After a long laugh, the Palace Master suddenly said, “Liu Fei is my boyfriend.”

Zhang Pa murmured assent. The Palace Master continued, “You still owe me ten meals.”

Again, Zhang Pa replied quietly.

The Palace Master added, “It’s really good to know you.”

Zhang Pa sighed softly. That was the title of an old song—he could hum the first few lines. So many times, in the afternoons of his youth, he’d sing those words: Thinking of your goodness, not knowing when I’ll hold you in my arms.

He’d hummed that song for years, those lyrics etched deep in memory—but his arms remained empty, never able to embrace.

They sat a while longer, then the Palace Master said, “I’ll head back.”

Zhang Pa called for the bill.

She didn’t insist on paying, shouldered her backpack and shopping bag, smiled at Zhang Pa, and softly repeated, “It’s really good to know you.” She waved goodbye and left.

On the ride home, Zhang Pa hummed those lyrics over and over. He believed the Palace Master had liked him somewhat, but because of his own timidity, he hadn’t dared confess, and had disappeared for so long... How unlike a man!

Halfway home, Fatty called, asking his whereabouts.

Zhang Pa replied, “Where’s Da Zhuang’s gym?”

Half an hour later, everyone met at the apartment Da Zhuang had rented. It was in the same neighborhood as the gym, a spacious first-floor unit with a remarkably low price. The reason: someone had died there.

Up until last month, it was a mahjong parlor, doing brisk business. Then a murder occurred, changing everything. A feud over mahjong led to two deaths and six injuries—a major case. The owner was heavily fined and banned from operating.

To find someone willing to take over, and perhaps ward off bad luck, the landlord offered it to Da Zhuang at a discount for half a year. But only half a year.

Fatty and his crowd didn’t care, discussing the murder at length. Fatty said, “This is a lesson—if there’s a fight, stay as far away as possible.”

“How can you say that with a straight face?” Zhang Pa retorted. “Is there anyone more likely to cause trouble than you?”

Fatty replied, “That’s different. When I fight, it’s my business. If others fight, don’t get involved.” He took the opportunity to lecture Zhang Pa: “Especially you—don’t think you’re tough and jump into every fight. This place is a bloody lesson. They came to chop one guy, but others tried to show off, and some tried to break it up. What happened? Worried they wouldn’t chop you? Now you see—those showing off are dead, those breaking it up are in hospital.”

Zhang Pa ignored him and explored each room.

It was truly a great place—the entrance hall had been converted into an office, like the cubicles in TV dramas. Corridors led to several rooms on both sides.

It needed no renovation to serve as either a restaurant or a karaoke bar.

Counting the entrance, there was one large and one small hall, a kitchen, a bar, a spacious bathroom, and nine rooms of various sizes.

Zhang Pa was thoroughly delighted. He asked Da Zhuang, “How much per month?”

“Friendship price: eight thousand. Utilities and fees extra,” Da Zhuang replied.

Zhang Pa calculated. “Not much of a friendship, is it?”

In this area, an eighty-square-meter two-bedroom rents for about eighteen hundred. Eight thousand covers four and a half such apartments, which should be roughly three hundred sixty square meters, but walking through the whole floor, it didn’t seem that big.

Da Zhuang said, “Be grateful—it’s on the first floor, practically a storefront.”

“Eight thousand’s too much,” Zhang Pa insisted.

Da Zhuang smiled. “I haven’t finished. If you pay six months upfront, you get one month free.”

“Still nearly seven thousand a month,” Zhang Pa said. “Are you trying to lose money? I’ll give you two thousand.”

“It’s an investment. My wife says, either do it right, or don’t do it at all. We’ll follow your plan: if the web series doesn’t make money, I’ll count it as a failed investment. If it does, I hope to get my fair share. Is that okay?”