At that, Zhuge Yun rolled his eyes. "It's not that I thought you liked old books. I thought you liked all old—no, all traditional things."
Zhang Bo looked puzzled. "Old books aren't traditional things."
Zhuge Yun gave Zhang Bo a disdainful look.
Zhao Luzheng explained, "I think Second Brother means the old books Third Brother likes are historical documents."
In other words, books that recorded traditional culture.
Zhuge Yun patted Zhao Luzheng on the shoulder. "The youngest really is clever."
He rolled his eyes at Zhang Bo again. "What, did you think I meant those last-century comic books you like?"
Zhang Bo objected. "What's wrong with comic books?"
"They're culture too."
Zhuge Yun: "...Oh."
A commotion drifted over from up ahead.
The noise carried even through the racket of the rain. Whoever it was must have been pretty loud.
As they drew closer, the voices became clearer.
"...Can't you watch where you're going?!"
"My oranges!"
"Hey, watch out! Don't step on my oranges!"
"Honestly!"
"What are you standing there for?"
"Are you a block of wood?!"
"Help me pick up my oranges!"
"You're so slow on the uptake!"
"Whose fault do you think this is?"
"I'm warning you, don't try to run off. If any oranges are missing, you'll have to pay for them."
Xiao Xiao bent down and picked up an orange that had rolled to his feet.
The bright yellow peel was streaked with dirty water.
He flicked it lightly.
Droplets scattered in every direction.
The orange was spotless when he looked at it again.
Xiao Xiao stepped forward a few paces.
It was raining, after all.
There weren't many people gathered to watch.
Through a gap between them, he saw two people bent over, picking up oranges.
His expression shifted slightly in surprise.