You wear such a big size!

"Really?" Jiang Xun stuffed the last bite of cornmeal bun into his mouth.

He chewed twice, swallowed, and flashed Zhao Pengfei a grin, his beautiful eyes curving into crescents, his smile dazzling enough to make someone's eyes swim.

"That's so manly."

"Way better than a pathetic little coward like you who only ever dares hide behind Mommy and tattle."

Zhao Pengfei's face flushed scarlet, and his lips trembled several times.

This was nothing like the script he had imagined.

"You don't believe me?" he said through gritted teeth. "Go ask around the village! Who doesn't know Shen Dayong was pushed into the river by Shen Wangjing! That night, it was just the father and son by the river-"

"And you heard it from your mom," Jiang Xun finished for him. "Who did your mom hear it from? Aunt Wang, who cracks sunflower seeds at the village entrance? And who did Aunt Wang hear it from? Grandpa Zhang, who sells tofu in the next village?"

The corner of Zhao Pengfei's eye twitched.

"Your mom also said Shen Dayong borrowed a huge sum from your family. Where's the IOU? Show me." Jiang Xun tucked both hands into his pockets, his tone languid. "Your whole family talks out of your asses. Not one of you can produce any evidence."

"Whatever else Shen Wangjing might be, he's never stolen anyone's chickens, brought people to block someone's doorway, or climbed over someone's courtyard wall in the middle of the night-your family has done every last one of those, and you still have the nerve to gossip about other people?"

Zhao Pengfei clenched his fists.

"Y-you're just fucking blinded by his face!" After struggling for ages, he finally shouted what he most wanted to say. "You believe everything he says just because he's good-looking? Do you even know that he-"

"Do I even know what?" Jiang Xun interrupted him with a smile. "Say one more word, and I'll go have a chat with your principal. I'll ask him how the Village Chief's son bullies his classmates at school. Your dad's position isn't exactly untouchable, is it?"

Everything else Zhao Pengfei wanted to say stuck in his throat.

He turned and left with his fists clenched, then stopped after two steps and looked back, gritting his teeth.

"Just you wait! When you find out what kind of person he is, don't say I didn't warn you."

The motorcycle sped off in a cloud of dust, wobbling around the bend in the dirt road and nearly hitting a utility pole at the roadside.

Jiang Xun watched that bedraggled figure disappear into the yellow dust, the smile slowly fading from his lips.

Of course he treated Zhao Pengfei's words as so much hot air. Rumors like "he pushed his own father into the river" were most likely cooked up by that mouth of Li Guizhi's.

But he knew the scar Zhao Pengfei had mentioned was real.

He had noticed the old scar between Shen Wangjing's thumb and forefinger on his very first day.

It was long and deep, extending all the way to the inside of his wrist, as though something sharp had gouged viciously into it.

He had taken another look at the time, thinking how hard this man must have worked to end up with an injury like that.

And there was Grandpa Shen.

Jiang Xun had noticed it several times: Grandpa Shen would tremble in his wheelchair for no apparent reason, mumbling words too indistinct to make out.

Once, as he passed outside the kitchen, he heard the old man talking to himself inside, his voice trembling as he repeated the same syllable. It sounded like "Yong," or perhaps something else.

But he had never asked.

It was a tacit understanding between people who had struggled through hardship from childhood-everyone had their own secrets, and some scars were not for outsiders to uncover.

That afternoon, Shen Wangjing returned from the fields earlier than usual.

The clothesline in the courtyard was already full.

Grandpa's wheelchair cushion had been removed and set out to dry, the bedsheet billowed into a full rectangle in the wind, pillow towels were held up with wooden clothespins, and even the old black T-shirt he had taken off last night had been washed, the hole in its collar facing the courtyard gate.

Jiang Xun squatted by the well with three large basins in front of him, soaking a pile of old clothes he had dug out from who knew where.

His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, a few sweat-dampened strands of hair clung to his temples, and he was scrubbing a sock in his hands.

He did not really know how to use the washboard, so it rested decoratively on the rim of a basin while he did all the scrubbing with his bare hands.

Jiang Xun wrung out the sock and tossed it into the empty basin beside him, then fished another item out of a different large basin. He unfolded it, his eyes going round.

"Wow! You wear such a big size!"

Jiang Xun held up the pair of boxer briefs, washed so many times their original color was impossible to tell, in pure, heartfelt admiration.

Shen Wangjing came to an abrupt halt just as he stepped through the courtyard gate.

He still carried a hoe over his shoulder, its blade caked with half-dried soil, his trouser legs rolled up to his knees and several streaks of mud on his calves.

The yellow dog greeted him with a wagging tail and circled his legs twice, only to discover that its master had no time for it today.

Shen Wangjing's gaze was fixed firmly on the piece of fabric dangling from Jiang Xun's hand.

"..."

"What did you eat growing up?" Jiang Xun held the boxer briefs up to the sunlight and examined them, his tone sincere. "This size-wow."

Shen Wangjing leaned the hoe against the base of the wall, strode over, bent down, and picked up the basin with the clothes.

"What are you doing?" Jiang Xun's hand was suddenly empty; Shen Wangjing had snatched away the still-dripping boxer briefs.

"...I'll wash them myself."

"I was almost done!" Jiang Xun stood and rubbed the tip of his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of suds. "Why do you have to spoil the fun? It's not every day I do some work!"

Shen Wangjing had already carried the basin over to the well. He squatted, picked up the washboard, and scrubbed the remaining clothes in just a few strokes.

His movements were quick and deft, splashes striking the rim of the basin and glittering in tiny flecks beneath the setting sun.

"Hey, why are your ears red?" Jiang Xun tilted his head and leaned closer.

Shen Wangjing's scrubbing hands paused for an instant.

"What's wrong with me washing your underwear? We're both guys, so what's-"

"Leave it to me from now on." Shen Wangjing wrung out the last piece of clothing, water squeezing through his fingers and splattering into the basin. "I'll wash it myself."

Jiang Xun pouted. "Fine, fine, you wash it. What a poser."

He turned toward the courtyard gate. "Then I can't have spent half the afternoon washing for nothing. I'm going to ask the production team for points!"