Chapter 6: The Feather Duster

As dawn broke, the iron pot simmered on the coal stove, the spicy soup releasing white steam, and the aroma of fried dough twists and oily tea spread throughout the street.

With a sharp "click," the sesame biscuit oven lid was lifted, and a wave of warm, fragrant sesame scent hit their faces.

Gu Ming beckoned, and Lin Sicheng jogged over at a leisurely pace.

Wearing sports shorts with a towel draped around his neck, a faint sweat gleamed on his forehead—evidently, he had just finished running.

Gu Ming admired Lin Sicheng’s self-discipline. Unlike himself, who had been slacking off since university, always choosing to sit rather than stand, and lie down rather than sit.

Lin Sicheng pointed toward the breakfast stall. "Come on, let's eat first!"

"I'm not going—I'll be late for work!"

"Then why did you show up?"

Grinning, Gu Ming bared his teeth, "I just want to know if you got beaten up!"

That jerk—no wonder he came so early; turns out he was here just to watch the show.

Lin Sicheng yanked off his towel and casually swung it at Gu Ming, who dodged far away, bewildered. "You caused such a big mess—why didn’t Uncle Lin hit you?"

Impossible.

His grandfather and mother were no pushovers.

Honestly, he was amazed: not only did Gu Ming try to fool his mother with a cheap trinket worth a few dozen yuan, but he also had the audacity to claim it was an eight-thousand-yuan ancient mutton fat jade?

That wasn’t eight hundred, but a full eight thousand—three months’ salary for him.

"Don’t want to eat? Then scram!" Lin Sicheng snapped, pointing at Gu Ming and crossing the street.

"I don’t have time to eat, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have time to bring food," Gu Ming said, cheerfully trailing after him. He ordered three small bowls of spicy soup, three servings of meatballs, and five meat-stuffed buns.

Then he pointed at Lin Sicheng. "Boss, he’s paying!"

"What? This much? It’s enough to feed pigs."

"Feed pigs? That’s your future sister-in-law!"

Lin Sicheng blinked, staring at the breakfast that was enough for three people. "You’re dating two girls?"

"Not dating yet. I’m still hesitating which one to chase."

Wait... Gu Ming, you play around quite a bit, huh?

Lin Sicheng’s mind stirred.

In their previous life, Gu Ming married about three years later; his wife was a colleague from the same department—probably one of these “two” he mentioned.

It was awkward to judge his character, but Gu Ming’s infidelity during marriage was notorious. He left when the child was only one, running off with the property deed and savings. Truly a complicated story.

“You’re only twenty-two. What’s the rush? If you ever get the chance, I can introduce you to some teachers from our school.”

“Focus on yourself first,” Gu Ming scoffed. “You’re already in your senior year, can’t even study well and don’t have a single girlfriend. What’s the point of going to college then?”

Hey, what about me?

Lin Sicheng was about to get up when Gu Ming grabbed the breakfast and ran off.

He snorted, thinking, “Dating? You’re dreaming.”

Sooner or later, Gu Ming would ruin both his relationships and his job.

Even if he didn’t, he needed to get him transferred to another unit. Otherwise, with all the radiation from that old, leaky machine he worked with daily, who else but Gu Ming would get cancer?

Muttering to himself, Lin Sicheng saw the spicy soup placed on the table.

The broth was thick, flecked with amber oil droplets. One slurp sent pepper and meaty aroma down his throat, hot enough to bring tears to his eyes.

He bit into a dripping meat bun—delicious.

In a few bites, he finished and wiped the sweat from his forehead, hesitating again.

It was the weekend; both his parents were resting. Should he give them some privacy?

Of course, it was likely that Old Lin would get a scolding. But if he didn’t take the blow, and let his mother vent, there would probably be a second or even a third round later.

Tsk, bold as brass—he lost eight thousand yuan. What the hell did he do?

Lost in speculation, Lin Sicheng paid the bill, unsure where to go next.

Find a place to clean that iron tile?

But it required special chemicals, ideally a professional lab.

He could ask his grandfather for help, but that might alarm him: suddenly passing his courses with flying colors and being able to prepare cleaning solutions and operate lab equipment alone? Impossible.

He would have to figure it out back at school.

Maybe stroll around the East Gate?

Just then, Bus 32 arrived. Lin Sicheng got on.

…

On weekends, the East Gate was packed with people. The crowd surged like a tide, shoulders brushing, bustling.

Under the city wall, the heat of the crowd rose, mixed with shouting vendors and bargaining voices, all blending into a clamorous chorus characteristic of Shaanxi's loud and boisterous folk—like a noisy brawl.

Lin Sicheng weaved through the throng, tugging at the towel around his neck.

Occasionally, when he caught someone’s eye, he’d ask about prices, but eight times out of ten, he got a shake of the head.

“Hey, senior sister, look, isn’t that Lin Sicheng from our class?”

Not far away, a girl tiptoed, “Why’s he here?”

Li Zhen glanced back: Lin Sicheng moved slowly, relaxed.

“I heard his grandfather often sells here.”

“His grandfather? Who?”

“Professor Lin from our college, former deputy dean before retiring.”

The girl was stunned, wearing a shocked expression. “He fails every semester but never retakes exams, so the class says he’s some kind of second generation… I didn’t believe it.”

Li Zhen pursed her lips, silent.

…

Their advisor said Lin Sicheng applied for guaranteed postgraduate admission last semester and had been accepted. Later, for some unknown reason, his qualification was revoked.

Probably to avoid any bad influence.

At that moment, Lin Sicheng approached the two girls, glanced over casually, and paused.

The two young women were graceful, their faces glowing with youthful vitality.

One was a classmate, surnamed Xiao, though he didn’t know her full name.

The other he had only met yesterday; she had pointed at a porcelain shard on the counter, asking if he could piece it together.

He smiled, “What a coincidence!”

Li Zhen nodded. “Here to help Yu Zhu buy some practice materials? Are you here to see Professor Lin?”

“My grandfather isn’t here today, just browsing.”

“Oh.”

They exchanged simple greetings and parted ways.

Xiao Yuzhu stared at Lin Sicheng’s back, suspicion flickering in her eyes. “He actually greeted us first?”

“Why?”

“He’s an odd one. Always cold, acting like everyone owes him a million. Strange personality—no one in class wants to hang out with him.”

He was probably ostracized.

But as for being strange… he seemed pretty sunny, didn’t quite fit.

Out of curiosity, Li Zhen returned to studying the porcelain shards but saw nothing suitable.

“Let’s check up ahead!”

Xiao Yuzhu, inexperienced but willing, agreed.

Coincidentally, as they passed by again, they saw Lin Sicheng paying.

“Boss, here you go!”

The vendor took the bright red bills and counted—four whole notes.

Xiao Yuzhu was astonished: her monthly living expenses were only four hundred yuan. What was Lin Sicheng buying?

Looking closer, Lin Sicheng held under his arm a duster.

It was old, with many feathers missing and a blackened handle covered in patina. But no matter how she looked, it was just an ordinary feather duster made of chicken feathers and bamboo.

Curious, Xiao Yuzhu asked, “Lin Sicheng, what’s that?”

“A chicken feather duster. Don’t you recognize it?”

Of course she did.

The question was, what kind of chicken feather duster was worth four hundred yuan?