What was he disappointed about?

Shen Yuxing walked back with his head lowered. As he rounded a corner, he ran straight into a crew member carrying a camera.

The camera swung toward him. Shen Yuxing lifted his face, his eyes still red, and said in a tiny voice, "Hello, sir... Am, am I in your way? Sorry."

Old Zhao had spent eight years filming variety shows and had seen every kind of freak imaginable, but the sight of this small, skinny child shrinking into the corner with red-rimmed eyes still made his heart clench.

"It's fine, it's fine. Go on." Old Zhao stepped aside to let him pass, his camera unconsciously following him for a while.

On camera, Shen Yuxing's retreating figure looked pitifully frail. His trouser legs were too short, exposing his thin ankles.

The guest room door closed. Standing beside the bed, Shen Yuxing surveyed the entire space through lowered eyes.

This guest room, meant for one person, was a good ten or twenty times larger than the main room of his home.

The bed was made with sheets that looked expensive at a glance. The window faced the villa's back garden, and the curtains had two layers that let in no light at all when closed.

He walked over to the desk, set his old, wash-faded schoolbag on the chair, and took out a palm-sized notebook.

Its cover was frayed at the edges, and the pages were densely covered in writing: everything he had learned about the Jiang family through the production team before coming here.

Liu Wanying-the lady of the Jiang family, with a gentle, virtuous public persona. Formerly Jiang Changping's assistant, a mistress who had taken the wife's place.

Jiang Yu-the son Liu Wanying had brought with her, unrelated to the Jiang family by blood. Extremely unsettled after Jiang Xun returned, and very good at stirring up trouble.

Jiang Yanchu-the Jiang family's second son, close to Liu Wanying and her son. Continued to revolve around Jiang Yu even after Jiang Xun came home.

Shen Yuxing drew a question mark beside Jiang Yanchu's name.

When they first met, there had been nothing but disappointment in the way this person looked at him.

What was he disappointed about? That the person who came wasn't his younger brother?

But he clearly liked Jiang Yu more, didn't he?

Shen Yuxing faintly heard footsteps outside the door.

He waited five seconds. Sure enough, a knock came.

When he opened the door, he wore that timid look again, showing half his face through the gap. His voice was as faint as a mosquito's hum. "M-may I ask what you need?"

"Madam asked me to bring you a little late-night snack," Wang Ma said, carrying a tray with a glass of hot milk and a few cookies. "She was worried you'd get hungry tonight."

Old Zhao followed behind her, his camera pointed straight at the doorway, while a crew member stood in the corridor holding a reflector.

Shen Yuxing could tell at a glance that Liu Wanying was putting on a show, but that was fine. He was happy to play along.

He accepted the tray with both hands and gently set it on the desk. Rather than drinking right away, he crouched down and rummaged through his old, wash-faded schoolbag for quite a while before pulling out a bulging little cloth bag.

He untied it and carefully tipped out a few ears of corn.

The ears were small, but their kernels were plump and golden. They had clearly been carefully selected.

Yet beside the fruit platter and the obviously expensive bone china cup and saucer, they looked glaringly shabby.

Wang Ma froze for a moment. In her dozen-plus years working for this family, she had grown used to all sorts of expensive fruit gift boxes-imported cherries, New Zealand kiwifruit, Japanese Shine Muscat grapes. This was the first time she had seen anyone pull out corn as a gift.

"I, I brought these from home. I don't have anything nice..." Shen Yuxing's voice grew quieter as he spoke. "I'll leave them here. Please try some too."

Old Zhao carried the camera forward for a close-up. On screen, Shen Yuxing crouched on the floor with his face tilted up, holding those few ears of corn in his hands. His earnest expression made people's hearts ache.

Shen Yuxing picked up the glass of milk in both hands and cautiously took a small sip.

Milk foam clung to his upper lip. He quickly licked it off with the tip of his tongue, glanced down at the glass, then looked up and smiled at Wang Ma.

"It's so sweet."

Wang Ma's eyes reddened in an instant.

After finishing the milk, Shen Yuxing put the glass aside, picked up a cookie, and took a small bite.

The camera moved closer. His expression paused almost imperceptibly, then he wrapped the remaining larger portion of the cookie in a tissue and quietly slipped it into his old schoolbag.

Wang Ma noticed. "Why aren't you eating it? Don't you like it?"

"I do!" Shen Yuxing hurriedly waved his hands, the tips of his ears a little red. "It's just... my older brother has never had anything like this. I want to take it home for him to try."

Wang Ma burst into tears on the spot.

Having finished his milk, Shen Yuxing stood up, holding the empty glass in both hands. "Auntie, I'll go wash the glass."

"No, no, leave it. I'll do it-"

"I'll wash it myself," Shen Yuxing insisted. "I always wash the dishes at home."

He carried the glass into the bathroom, turned on the tap, and carefully rinsed it several times.

Then he used a tissue to wipe every trace of water from the rim before returning it to the tray. He also gathered up and wiped away the cookie crumbs scattered across the tray.

The director's assistant called cut, and Old Zhao switched off the camera.

Even after filming stopped, Wang Ma was still wiping her tears, repeating, "This child is so well behaved," and, "How did they raise such a considerate child?"

The crew left the room one after another. Shen Yuxing stood at the door, bowing and saying good night to every crew member who passed, his voice obedient and his smile innocent.

At last, the final crew member disappeared into the distance, and the corridor fell quiet again.

Shen Yuxing closed the door and turned the lock all the way.

The bolt clicked into place. He leaned against the door, the obedient look rapidly fading from his face to reveal the expressionless one beneath.

The cookie had been too sweet, cloyingly so, leaving a sourness at the back of his tongue. To him, it was no better than gnawing on a solid steamed bun.

For someone who had grown up terrified of hunger, valuing food mattered far more than being particular about taste. Sweet or salty made no difference. Anything that filled his stomach was good.

The production team's cameras did not run twenty-four hours a day.

So once the cameras were off, no one knew that late that night, Shen Yuxing timed it for when Jiang Yu was still out drinking and carousing, then slipped quietly into the bedroom twice the size of his guest room.

He headed straight for the bathroom, picked up Jiang Yu's electric toothbrush, and meticulously scrubbed the inside of the toilet bowl three times.