Plum, Orchid, Bamboo, and Chrysanthemum

Su Qiushui, wearing a mischievous smile, stuffed the little foxes into the room and made herself at home in the living room, watching TV and munching on marinated beef as comfortably as if she were in her own den.

The four little foxes had elegant names—Falling Plum, Quiet Orchid, White Bamboo, and Frost Chrysanthemum—names Su Qiushui had painstakingly devised after wandering the Demon Mountain for over a dozen rounds.

Though White Bamboo was the only boy, his fascination with the pretty jars and bottles on the shelves was no less than the others’. He wriggled his tail as he took his seat, eyes sparkling as he looked at Ning Zhixia, and slapped his tiny hand on the table.

“I’m ready!”

“Wow, White Bamboo, you’re so sneaky!”

There were only two seats in total. Falling Plum squeezed onto one, and the other two, unable to grab a spot, pouted and huddled nearby, grumbling softly.

Ning Zhixia picked up White Bamboo’s little hand to examine it: rounded nail beds, tender skin, and a soft, fleshy feel when pinched.

He smiled. “We’ll be quick with these little nails; it won’t take long.”

“Have some chips while you wait.” Qu Banqing opened the snack cupboard, grabbed a few bags of chips, and handed them to the foxes who were about to get fussy.

“Chips?” Quiet Orchid clutched the torn package and shook it. The unfamiliar spicy aroma wafted out. She tilted her head to nuzzle another little head, instinctively trying to squeeze into the bag, her tail twisting in delight.

“Good thing I have plenty of snacks here…” Ning Zhixia muttered, laying out the tools on the table.

The tiny nails before him were smooth and adorable, and though the foxes weren’t exactly infants, he and his companion worked with particular care.

After finishing the base coat, Ning Zhixia paused and suggested they paint watercolors of the four flowers—plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum—on their nails to celebrate the little foxes’ new names.

“I get bamboo then…” White Bamboo pursed his lips, swung his dangling feet, and mumbled, “It’s not as pretty as flowers…”

“Ah! Sorry about that.” Ning Zhixia hesitated, then opened the watercolor drawer and took out a small porcelain box.

Watercolor was versatile, and to achieve different effects, Ning Zhixia had bought some pearlescent shades, fearing they’d go unused—but now proved the perfect time.

White Bamboo was instantly captivated, leaning in closer and closer, his upright ears tickling Ning Zhixia’s forehead.

“Sit still.” Ning Zhixia pressed him back into his seat, dipped into the gold pearlescent paint on the palette, and began to sketch with a fine brush.

The child’s nails were short and cute; gold shimmer was already striking, and painting a full bamboo stalk would be too crowded. Ning Zhixia tilted his head, scrutinizing from all angles. White Bamboo mirrored his movements, making the pair look like they were playing a childish game.

“Hmm.” Bamboo leaves seem simple, but poorly painted, they’d look like chicken feet—messy and unrefined. Ning Zhixia pursed his lips, pressed the brush against the nail, and with a gentle upward stroke, drew the shape.

Two strokes for fish tails, three for flying swallows—lively, delicate bamboo danced on the translucent nail, shimmering with gold. No need for complexity; an artful reserve let the scene breathe.

Ning Zhixia set his brush down, satisfied. “Do you like it?”

“Wow…” At some point, White Bamboo’s mouth had fallen open, his gaze dazed. When Ning Zhixia asked again, he looked up in adoration. “I love it! You’re amazing, big brother!”

“Of course I’m amazing!” Ning Zhixia puffed up with pride. When the nail was done, he motioned him to the lamp and slapped the table with enthusiasm. “Next!”

“Hooray! My turn!” With the rustle of plastic, the next fox child poked her head out of the chip bag, cheeks dusted with crumbs, and happily scooted over.

Qu Banqing beckoned the last fox, who was watching with longing eyes. He was a jack-of-all-trades in the crafting world, and even though he hadn’t done manicures in ages, he got back into it quickly.

Ning Zhixia had no doubts about his friend’s skills. He glanced over, raising his brows slightly.

On Falling Plum’s nails, snow-kissed red plums were drawn with exquisite detail, and two fingers were shaded with gray and white to evoke distant winter mountains—a strong atmosphere emerging from the short, round nails’ tiny canvas.

After that came a set of delicate orchids and another of gilded ink chrysanthemums, all of which were no challenge for the two of them.

Their universal nail art brushes were cheap and practical, different in water retention and elasticity from traditional Chinese or Western brushes, but with the right technique, they could bring any style to life.

When Su Qiushui strolled back to the workspace, the once boisterous foxes held their breath, watching every move with rapt attention—more focused than when she showed them magic.

The finished results left the four little guests utterly delighted. They huddled together, heads touching, showing off their nails, tails wagging with excitement.

One fox lost her balance and rolled across the floor, only to be swarmed by the others, nuzzling and tumbling together, oblivious even as their ears flopped over.

“Such energetic little ones,” Su Qiushui said, knowing it was time, as she took out a bead like a jade stone and tossed it to Ning Zhixia.

Spirits never asked about price; they seemed to have their own standards, only paying what they deemed worthy.

“Thank you for your patronage,” Ning Zhixia caught the bead in one hand.

Seeing the foxes still licking their lips and eyeing the chips, he stuffed them with plenty of snacks. “Come by anytime.”

Su Qiushui grinned, “Of course.”

After the foxes left, Qu Banqing stretched and eyed the bead in Ning Zhixia’s hand. “The fox kids were cute, but is that little thing worth anything?”

“Let’s see.” Under his friend’s confused gaze, Ning Zhixia placed the bead beside the QR code. In an instant, the bead vanished, replaced by a cold electronic voice—

“Deposit received: 20,000 yuan!”

“Holy—!” Qu Banqing clutched his chest and staggered back.

Ning Zhixia asked, “You all right, buddy?”

Qu Banqing shoved him away, face aglow with happiness. “Don’t disturb me; I’m basking in a financial critical hit.”

*

Thanks to Su Qiushui’s generous reward and a recent uptick in business, this month’s profits were looking impressive. Ning Zhixia decided to split future earnings forty percent to Qu Banqing.

Qu Banqing agreed after some thought but didn’t want to take advantage, so he volunteered to handle everyday expenses for the shop.

With that settled, he happily bought new bedding and set up his room, even got a cat tree for the “Mahjong Squad” in the corner of the first floor.

The cat tree needed assembly, so Qu Banqing was up early, tinkering away. The fat ginger cat, supervising from the floor, grew impatient with his slow pace, eyed the bamboo chair, and extended a wicked paw.

“Scratch, scratch...”

Qu Banqing frowned. “Hey, you can’t scratch there!”

The fat ginger turned and gave him a look of pure disdain: Oh? Can’t scratch here, huh?

“Tsk!”

“Meow...” Ning Zhixia was oblivious to the brewing storm, yawning lazily at the sky before dropping his head to continue watering the plants.

He’d been woken early for breakfast, but something felt missing. He pulled out his phone.

As soon as he opened the delivery app, a red coupon banner popped up.

A broad grin broke over his face.

“Ruiri’s the best—nine yuan with a coupon, ice is what matters, one sip dilutes the bitterness of work, a savior for the wage-slaves.”

He savored his impromptu ode to Ruiri, when a piercing wail jolted him fully awake.

“Waaah—owww!”

Qu Banqing howled, clutching his hand, while the fat ginger licked his “weapon” with relish.

“Want milk tea?” Ning Zhixia offered, trying to comfort his wounded friend.

The howling stopped at once. “Okay.”

Ning Zhixia: ...So easy to please!

The scratch on Qu Banqing’s hand wasn’t deep, but the skin was broken, so he had to go out for a rabies shot.

Watching him go, Ning Zhixia turned to scold the fat ginger. “Bad piggy.”

The cat was grooming his ear with a hind leg, but at the words, he paused, stretched, and ambled off—only to start meowing coquettishly at the door.

“Good morning.” Today, Odelo wore a loose, casual outfit. He looked down at the fat ginger rolling and showing his belly, anticipated its swipe, and sidestepped so the paw swiped air.

The cat blinked in confusion.

Amused by this, Odelo’s lips curled faintly upward. “Foolish.”

The cat glared and tried again, but Odelo stepped over him easily with his long legs.

Since the last incident, the Bureau hadn’t been in touch. Everything had been calm and normal—so what brought Odelo here today?

Ning Zhixia fidgeted. “Did you need something?”

“Mm.” Odelo nodded and handed him a heavy brown envelope. “A hundred thousand—the reward for helping repair Case 103.”

The weight of money was reassuring.

Ning Zhixia took it, grinning. “If you’re giving it, just give it. No need to come in person.”

Odelo paused, pretending to take the envelope back.

“Sorry, sorry! My bad, big brother—I was wrong!”

He didn’t dare tease anymore, hugging the envelope like his life depended on it.

After putting the money away, he returned to find Odelo holding a refined box with a logo from the city’s famous egg tart shop.

Ning Zhixia’s eyes shone.

Is that for me too?

Sensing the young man’s gaze, Odelo shifted the box behind him, then, perhaps feeling it was rude, hesitated and brought it forward again, asking casually, “It’s custard tart. Do you—?”

“Eat, eat, eat!” Ning Zhixia nodded frantically.

Odelo, foiled in his attempt to keep it for himself, sighed with regret.

The bakery was famous for its sunflower-shaped tarts—substantial, with fragrant, crisp pastry, perfectly set custard, smooth and creamy, rich but not overly sweet.

They were made in limited batches daily. Odelo, coming early, had managed to snag three flavors: classic, molten cheese, and pistachio.

The box was still warm. Ning Zhixia picked a pistachio one, blowing on it as he ate. To offset the richness, he brewed some Maojian tea, pouring a cup for Odelo as well.

The tarts were so big that by the time Ning Zhixia returned from making tea, Odelo had already eaten two, yet not a crumb marred his lips.

Odelo glanced at his cup; the tea was bright apricot green. He tapped the rim but didn’t drink yet.

Ning Zhixia scratched his face. “My tea skills are average. If my grandpa made it, you’d probably like it more.”

Odelo met his eyes. “It’s too hot.”

He thought a moment, then added, “Lu Huai mentioned your grandfather’s tea was excellent.”

“Really? When was that?”

“The day after Lu Huai was chased off with a broom for explaining the house’s abilities—he came back to apologize with tea.”

Ning Zhixia paused. “Grandpa must’ve suffered quite a psychic blow that night.”

Odelo nodded. “So far, you’re the kindest owner to No. 19 that Lu Huai has ever met.”

Ning Zhixia fell silent, guilt bubbling up.

So, the family had passed down the house’s secret for generations, yet as a child, Grandpa never spoke of it, nor did Dad.

The family always treated the place as his spot for tea and chess with friends. Even when Grandpa left him the house, he’d only said, “If you ever want to come back to Yucheng, you’ll have a place to stay.”

“Not everyone wants to deal with these strange things. Fear, aversion, suspicion… such feelings are normal in your world, let alone toward nonhuman things.”

Sensing Ning Zhixia’s doubts, Odelo picked up the now cooler tea, taking a sip. “There are reasons for telling or not telling. Whatever you choose is up to you.”

Ning Zhixia was left a little dazed, then blurted out, “Odelo, don’t get all emo on me—I'm not closing the shop! I’ll make it big and wait for you to buy in.”

Odelo shot him a curious look. “I’m only saying you should be prepared. When the shop’s energy storage reaches a certain level, it will connect to other planes.”

Ning Zhixia murmured, “Wow, my life just got a whole lot more interesting.”

Odelo: “.”

“Oh, by the way.” Remembering something, Ning Zhixia eyed Odelo, who was pouring himself more tea. “Which plane are you from?”

Odelo answered calmly, “Another plane.”

Ning Zhixia choked. “Are you powerful?”

He blinked. “Average. Last time, you coaxed a big secret out of the fox for me.”

“That’s true, ha ha…” The praise went straight to Ning Zhixia’s head. “It’s nothing, really. Manicurists have to chat with all kinds of customers.”

Odelo looked genuinely interested. “I never asked—how did you do it?”

“It’s simple…” Ning Zhixia was a little smug, detailing his process. “Chatting and praising while doing their nails gets them distracted. Then I tap the table for a bit of suggestion…”

Odelo considered this, tapping his long fingers on the teapot. “That’s impressive.”

“Heh… Oh, we’re out of water.” Flush with pride, Ning Zhixia fetched the thermos.

Odelo asked, “Who taught you?”

Ning Zhixia waved him off. “It’s not a course. I learned from cat-training videos. You ring a bell, give a treat—ring again, another treat… Haven’t you seen that?”

Odelo shook his head. “No.”

The hot water poured with a hiss as Odelo helped put on the lid. “You’re quick to adapt. Smart.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really… My college classmate is much better at this!”

“How so?”

Ning Zhixia giggled. “She interrogates her boyfriend the same way.”

“What does she interrogate him about?”

With his curiosity piqued, Ning Zhixia chattered on about the biggest gossip he’d ever heard, then lifted his cup for a long sip.

Odelo propped his chin on his hand, tapping the cup wall, half-closing his eyes. “Did you ever use that technique on your boyfriend?”

“I, uh…” Ning Zhixia froze, then heard Odelo push his empty cup over, the clink of porcelain against the teapot.

Reflexively, he poured more tea and muttered, “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Odelo nodded calmly.

Ning Zhixia: “…”

That closet door opened a bit too suddenly.

As Odelo left, he did something rare: he reached down and gave the fat ginger’s head a gentle rub.

The cat’s owner, meanwhile, stood in the doorway like a petrified statue, eyes hollow and dazed.

Suddenly, his gaze caught on the wall.

Beyond the half-height courtyard wall, Qu Banqing slurped his popsicle, poking his head up like a newborn sun. Who knew how long he’d been lurking there.

“What is it?” Ning Zhixia asked.

Qu Banqing gazed back, eyes complex, and clicked his tongue. “Buddy, your blind date’s a real catch.”

Ning Zhixia: “…”