Xingyuan had given up hope for his little curls—he didn’t want to grow his hair out long, either, or it wouldn’t have that “Stahl” flavor to it anymore.
Xingyuan sat in front of the mirror while Yue Xi personally trimmed his hair for him. The house actually had an automatic hair-cutting machine that could trim Xingyuan into whatever style he wanted with the press of a button. But Yue Xi felt that doing it that way lacked soul, so he had specially gone to learn barbering.
By now, Yue Xi had already become a treasure-tier master barber. At the same time, he was also a certain young master’s personal hairdresser.
After finishing the cut, Yue Xi stood in front of the mirror and styled Xingyuan’s hair. The young master sat upright, and every single hair on his head was trimmed to an extremely uniform length. The strands fanned out one by one, smooth and soft. Yue Xi smiled, very pleased with his young master’s appearance.
Afterward, Yue Xi held an exquisite box, preparing to collect the trimmed hair clippings, and this caught Xingyuan’s attention. “Huh? So the hair that gets cut off is actually kept?”
Yue Xi smiled sweetly and said, “Yes. Not just now—even Young Master’s hair from childhood has been carefully preserved.”
Xingyuan felt a wave of novelty. Having grown up this much, he had never once noticed this. He braced both hands on the back of the chair and leaned over to ask, “What’s the use of keeping this hair?”
Yue Xi shook his head with a smile, “This is a kind of memento of Young Master’s growth. Keeping it doesn’t take up any space anyway.” As he spoke, Yue Xi’s eyes blinked, and he looked up at the ceiling. “Of course, you could also use this hair to make something… like a diamond, for instance.”
“A diamond?” Xingyuan recalled, “You mean those sparkling, pretty stones that cost one star coin around school?”
Yue Xi nodded, stroking Xingyuan’s head, his tone gentle, “Yes, it’s just that those diamonds are all synthetic. Naturally formed ones are worth quite a bit more.” He paused, then continued, “Young Master, don’t look down on how cheap diamonds are now—actually, many years ago, diamonds used to be very expensive. They were even likened to a symbol of love; the gemstone in a wedding ring was a diamond. And some wealthy people also liked to use diamonds to make jewelry—even a tiny piece could often sell for an astronomical price.”
After hearing this, Xingyuan’s curiosity and desire to explore surged up at once. He thought about it, looked at the box in Yue Xi’s hands, and proposed, “Then can I make a diamond right now?”
“Anytime.”
Yue Xi specially had someone buy a machine, while Xingyuan dug through the storeroom to find all the hair he’d kept from childhood to now—from his infant birth-hair all the way to the hair just trimmed moments ago—selecting each strand with great care.
Of course, making a diamond didn’t require that much hair. But Xingyuan couldn’t bear to give any of it up, so he snipped just a tiny bit from every single strand. As a result, by the time the two diamonds were finally made, each one weighed over a dozen carats.
Xingyuan held the two diamonds in his hands, his eyes opened wide and round. He glanced at the diamonds, then looked up at Yue Xi, and asked blankly, “You think… if I made these into a diamond ring, would that be a bit tacky?”
Yue Xi furrowed his brow. He looked at these two diamonds, each as wide as one of Xingyuan’s fingers, and gently nodded. “Honestly, yes, a bit tacky.”
Xingyuan: …
Fortunately, Yue Xi patted Xingyuan’s shoulder in comfort and said, “Even if they can’t be made into a ring, we could try making them into some other kind of jewelry instead—that would still hold the same sentimental value. And besides…”
Yue Xi had someone bring over two small but exquisite jewelry boxes. Wearing gloves, he took the diamonds and carefully wiped them clean while pointing at them. “Even though the size is a bit off from what we imagined, these two diamonds are the most beautiful diamonds I’ve ever seen. No matter what jewelry we make from them, it will be stunning.”
The diamonds were gently placed by Yue Xi into a cassia-blue brocade box. Their surface had a clear, deep azure color, exactly matching the young man’s eyes.
When Xingyuan got hold of Xingchen Crafts’ monthly report again, he discovered a very serious problem. The company’s revenue had been declining for four consecutive months now, and total profit had dropped 35.6% compared to four months ago—a number that couldn’t be ignored.
For several days in a row, Xingyuan kept zoning out in class, and whenever he had a spare moment, he’d open up all sorts of reports to look them over. His abnormal behavior was noticed by Xu Mo. After learning about it, Xu Mo didn’t blame him, but still made sure to give him a word of caution. “You can look at this stuff after class. You need to understand your own capabilities. Your father did send a manager to take charge—that person has been running things for many years, and whether it’s knowledge or experience, they far surpass you. Besides, if the manager really had any ill intentions, your father would be the first to notice.”
Xingyuan nodded half-convinced.
Not far away, Zhang Xin overheard Xu Mo’s words and scoffed inwardly. However, as he looked at Xingyuan still sitting in his seat, his eyes narrowed slightly, and calculations began forming in his mind.
Wasn’t this the perfect opportunity to build a relationship with Hua Xingyuan? Of course, he wasn’t stupid—at the very least, he’d have to wait until Xu Mo wasn’t by Xingyuan’s side before he could make his move.
….
The battle had ended, and the entire legion began packing up their belongings, preparing to head to a new territory to be stationed.
This was Xingyuan’s first time experiencing a change of map. Last time, he’d been lucky—his luggage had somehow ended up hooked onto Aisley’s trunk, which was how it got carried all the way here, sparing Xingyuan the misery of sleeping on the bare ground.
Everyone was packing up bags large and small, and Xingyuan lay on the ground sorting out his own luggage too. Aisley carried away the large trunk, and Xingyuan picked up Aisley’s rope to bundle up his own bedding. Compared to most of the soldiers, Xingyuan’s luggage counted as fairly light. Aside from the essentials for sleeping, Xingyuan only had a few cloth sheets and small cloth towels he’d gotten from Aisley.
Xingyuan imitated the people moving house that he’d seen in movies—he tied the two ends of the cloth together and slung it diagonally across his back. The bedding was too bulky in size. He looked left and right, and in the end placed these things onto a carriage together with Aisley’s trunk.
Xingyuan defined his own identity as that of an ordinary soldier. At first, he followed the main troops on foot with great enthusiasm as they migrated. However, whether it was because of how heavy his pack was, before long Xingyuan started to feel as if his legs had been filled with lead.
Xingyuan struggled to keep his eyes open, sweat rolling down his eyelashes and into his eyes. He closed his eyes, the sunlight stinging painfully.
Not until the sun wasn’t so scorching anymore did the order finally come for the troops to stop. If it hadn’t been for a tree up ahead, Xingyuan would have nearly collapsed to his knees.
Xingyuan was drenched in sweat, his back soaked through. He shook his dizzy head, his whole body unsteady on its feet. He tried to take a few more steps, but his legs were simply too weak—the moment he let go of the tree, he nearly fell.
It was over. Xingyuan’s legs trembled, too weak to support him. He stared around blankly with his deer-like eyes. Everyone else was drinking water or packing up as needed; amid the scattered activity, the time to set off again was fast approaching.
Xingyuan’s throat moved. He wanted to speak up but pressed his lips shut instead. It seemed that this time, nine times out of ten, he was going to be left behind. He felt somewhat lost, but he didn’t force the issue. If there was anyone to blame, he could only blame his own poor stamina.
He decided he’d stay put until Monday before leaving. During that time, he could keep struggling a bit longer. If he walked day and night without stopping, maybe he could still catch up. Only, he hoped nothing unfortunate would happen tonight. But then again, he thought, if something unfortunate really did happen, then he could just reload from a save point. It’s just—he hoped the process of dying wouldn’t hurt too much.
Xingyuan sat under a tree, hugging his water flask, drinking quietly. His deer-like eyes were half-lowered, revealing a deep azure glimmer. Just then, a pair of military boots came to a stop in front of him. He looked up—it was that person who felt so familiar and dear to Xingyuan. Xingyuan’s eyes opened wide, and the corners of his lips curved into a smile.
At that moment, Aisley also bent down and sat under the tree, leaning against the trunk. Seeing this, Xingyuan scooted closer. Aisley opened his water flask and drank slowly—his flask looked exactly the same as Xingyuan’s. Of course, unsurprisingly, that flask was one Xingyuan had copied from Aisley’s.
Xingyuan’s anxious heart gradually settled. He turned his head, blinking as he looked at Aisley.
After a while, the horn sounded, and a rustling swept through the ranks as everyone stirred. Aisley sat for a moment longer before rising along with everyone else. Xingyuan still didn’t want to be left behind. In his urgency, he threw both arms around Aisley’s neck, his chest pressed against the latter’s back.
Aisley paused. Though he felt no weight at all, he saw the pair of jade-white arms wrapped around his neck.
Aisley’s eyes narrowed, one corner of his lips lifting slightly. Then he bent his body forward a little, trying his best not to let the young man fall. In his subordinates’ eyes, the legion commander whom no one dared to provoke now wore a gentle expression, his brows lifted lightly.
He didn’t even consider how long the journey was, and yet he’d insisted on walking on his own. Now look—he’d worn himself out to the point of not being able to walk, and he wasn’t even afraid something might happen to him.
That was what Aisley thought, but back then, the moment rest time had come, he had rushed without pause to search the entire camp for him.
Aisley rode a horse, and Xingyuan found this kind of animal-based transportation both novel and somewhat intimidating. He had never ridden a horse before, and even though he wasn’t short in height, his physical fitness was a weak point, and combined with his weak legs, it was difficult for him to mount it right away.
Seeing that Aisley was about to get on the horse, Xingyuan grabbed Aisley’s collar in a panic. After a spell of dizziness, Xingyuan felt himself lift off the ground. By the time he came to his senses, he was already seated astride the horse. Only… his direction was reversed!
Xingyuan was seated at the front, but he was facing Aisley. He could see the other’s chin, and could smell the crisp, clean scent along with the nose-filling masculine hormonal fragrance emanating from his body. Xingyuan pressed his lips together, his heart pounding like a drum.
The horse beneath them began to move. Unable to steady himself, Xingyuan swayed unsteadily—if he hadn’t grabbed onto Aisley’s clothes, he would have nearly fallen off.
At first Xingyuan felt nervous, but afterward a thick surge of thrill welled up in his heart. He looked excitedly toward both sides, though he didn’t dare loosen his grip. As he enjoyed the scenery on either side, his body unconsciously drew closer to Aisley.
By the end, with his face pressed against the stiff fabric, Xingyuan had his arms wrapped around Aisley’s waist, starlight flickering in his eyes.
Aisley’s hand gripping the reins grew tighter and tighter, and to onlookers, his expression had turned serious as well. Aisley lowered his waist, trying his best to shield the young man from the wind as much as possible. It was just that his heart was beating faster.
Aisley looked down at the deep brown crown of hair below him; he could only hope that the young man’s attention wasn’t focused on this.
His Adam’s apple rolled, his gaze dark and deep.