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After leaving a promise for Xiaoya, he took out his phone in the hallway, found Haozi's number, and dialed it. It rang six times before the other end answered. In the background, there was the sound of a spatula hitting a wok and a child shouting, "Daddy, I want soup!"

"Feed?" Haozi's voice was still the same, a little hoarse from just coming out of the workshop. "You're back? Xiaoya told me you were out running around the other day."

"I'm back. Are you free tonight?"

"Yeah, I just got off work at the factory today and I'm cooking." The voice in the background continued, "What's up, want a drink?"

"Let's go out for a meal. There's something I want to talk to you about."

"What's wrong? Can't we talk on the phone?"

"Say it to my face."

Haozi was silent for two seconds, then the sound of the stove being turned off came from the other end of the phone: "Okay. I'll come pick you up, or will you come by yourself?"

"I'll go there myself, to the usual place."

"Okay, see you in ten minutes."

The old place is a barbecue stall that has been open for more than ten years in the south of the city. It is hidden under a tin shed in an alley. The tables and chairs are all plastic, and the ground is always a bit sticky, but the smell of cumin from the charcoal fire can waft halfway down the street.

When Lin Yanzhou arrived, Haozi was already sitting in a seat near the back, with two bottles of beer in front of him. One of the bottles was already opened, and a layer of white frost had formed on the bottle neck.

Lin Yanzhou sat down opposite him. Haozi looked him up and down, his gaze sweeping over him, before speaking after a couple of seconds: "You've lost some weight. But you seem to be in good spirits."

"It's normal to have a lot to worry about lately."

"Are you still working on that construction site?" Haozi pushed a bottle of beer towards him. "I heard your boss settled that bill with you last time?"

"The company should have settled the account. I don't have time to ask."

Haozi glanced at him again, but didn't rush to ask any more questions. He picked up his own bottle of beer, took a sip, and pushed the plastic menu over: "Order first. We can talk while we eat."

When the lamb skewers were served, the aroma of charcoal mingled with cumin filled the air between the two. Haozi picked up a skewer, took a bite, chewed it a couple of times, and then looked up: "Okay, what can't we talk about over the phone?"

Lin Yanzhou put down his chopsticks: "I want to open a factory."

Haozi continued chewing his meat: "What factory?"

"Agricultural machinery manufacturing. Making plowshares, harvester parts, and small seeders, starting with the small ones, as the technical barriers are not high. I have the funds, but I lack someone who understands on-site operations to manage production."

Haozi put down his chopsticks and looked at him: "The person you're talking about who 'understands the scene,' you're not talking about me, are you?"

"It's you."

Haozi was silent for a few seconds, then leaned back in his chair: "Yanzhou, I'm just a fitter. I've repaired machines, turned parts, managed production and people, but I've never done any of those things."

"You've been a fitter for over ten years, so you're more familiar with the machinery than I am. You know better than most managers who are brought in from outside the factory what kind of problems might arise on-site. You don't need to learn how to manage people; just treat the guys in the workshop the same way you usually do. I'll have someone specifically handle the cash inflows and outflows and the accounts. What you need to do is keep the site stable and maintain quality."

Haozi looked down at the plate of meat skewers in front of him, slowly chewed his bite, and finished a large gulp of beer before speaking: "You mean 'managing people'? I can't say, but I can fix machines when they break down. The rest... are you sure?"

"Sure."

Lin Yanzhou took out a bank card from his pocket, placed it on the table, and pushed it towards Haozi: "There's three million in here. You can go and see the site yourself, negotiate the equipment yourself, and hire the workers yourself. I'm just providing the money."

Haozi looked down at the card, not immediately reaching for it: "You're giving me a card to swipe whenever I want?"

Yes. Let me know if it's not enough.

"Aren't you afraid I'll buy the wrong thing?"

"You've been repairing machines for over ten years. You know better than me what works and what's just a gimmick. I wouldn't understand even if I went. It's better if you went."

Haozi picked up the card, flipped it over to look at the back, then put it back on the table, pressing one corner down with a beer bottle: "I'll go check out the site in the next couple of days. I'll visit a few equipment manufacturers to ask about prices first, and then place an order once I have a better understanding. There's no rush for the workers; let's get the equipment in place first."

"The site should be in the suburbs, not too far, so that freight transportation is convenient. The factory area should start at 3,000 square meters, and we can expand it later," Lin Yanzhou said. "I won't participate in the site selection. You can just sign a contract with whichever place you think is suitable."

Haozi picked up the bottle of beer, took another sip, and wiped his mouth with his finger: "What if I choose the wrong one and lose money?"

"I won't lose money," Lin Yanzhou said. "Even if I do, you won't owe me anything."

Haozi was silent for a few seconds, then put down the bottle of beer without picking it up again: "Okay! But you have to promise me one thing—once I finish making the sample, you'll take a look at it yourself."

"I'll definitely come."

"Then it's settled." Haozi reached out and took the bottle of beer that Haozi hadn't finished, filled it with his own glass, and said, "Remember this—if you can't work anymore someday, I can still take over the factory for you."

Lin Yanzhou picked up the glass of wine, drank it directly without clinking glasses.

They sat for a while longer, as the other customers gradually left and the charcoal fire cooled down. When Haozi got up to pay the bill, Lin Yanzhou remained seated, watching him pull a crumpled bill from his pocket and hand it over at the counter. He had seen that gesture for twenty years; it was always the same—from the same pocket, never owing money, and never saying a word.

Haozi walked back to the table, put the change in his pocket, and said, "Let's go, I'll take you home."

"No need, I drove."

"Then drive carefully. As for the factory, I'll go look at sites in the next couple of days, and once I find a suitable one, I'll make a decision." Haozi stood under the streetlight at the alley entrance, looking at him. The light cast a warm yellow glow on his shoulders. "I'll send you photos later, and you can make the decision."

"No need to send photos. If you see them and think they're acceptable, then we'll sign the contract."

Haozi paused for a moment, then laughed: "You really only care about sending money."

"I'll just invest; any profits are yours," Lin Yanzhou said. "Alright, everyone go home and find your own wives."

When he drove back to the villa, the night wind was already blowing in through the cracks in the car window, carrying the coolness unique to late autumn, dry and clean.

The lights in the villa were still on. Warm yellow light shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The curtains weren't fully drawn, leaving a narrow gap, as if someone inside had seen his car headlights sweep across the courtyard wall before getting up to open the door.

When he pushed the door open, Lin Xiaoya was sitting on the sofa in the living room, holding a book in her hand. She was wearing pajamas and her hair was loose, so she looked like she had just taken a shower.

"You're back?" she asked.

"I'm back."

"What did Haozi say?"

"He agreed." Lin Yanzhou placed the car keys on the entryway table. "He can go and see the venue and equipment himself; I'll just provide the money."

Xiaoya nodded, not pressing for specific numbers: "So, what time are you leaving tomorrow?"

"Good morning." Lin Yanzhou changed into slippers and walked into the living room, sitting down next to her. "We'll leave at dawn."

She closed the book and placed it on the coffee table. Without speaking immediately, she turned to look at him for a while. Her gaze lingered on his face for a long time, not as if she were looking for something, but more as if she were memorizing something, taking in the angle of the warm yellow light falling on his profile.

"You're different this time," she said. "Last time you left, your clothes were neatly folded and packed in your suitcase. This time you didn't even open your bag."

Lin Yanzhou didn't explain. He reached out and took her hand off the spine of the book, cupping it in his palm.

"If Haozi needs any signatures after I leave tomorrow morning, you can sign them for me," he said. "I'll accept it if you sign it."

"You didn't even read the contract before you asked me to sign it?"

"Just sign it."

She didn't pull her hand away. The living room was quiet for a moment, and the streetlights outside shone through the gaps in the curtains, casting a thin, dim light on the floor.

She sighed softly, as if releasing something that had been weighing on her all night: "Then go to bed early tonight."

"Can't we go to bed early? Otherwise, we won't be able to pay our grain taxes!"

"Get out of here..."

A sudden shower of clouds and rain over Wushan.

Xiaoya's breathing gradually calmed down, as if she had fallen asleep. But her fingers were still loosely resting on the fabric of his shirt, not completely loose, and with each rise and fall of her breath, they traced the seams of the fabric.

He rolled over, approaching her from behind, his arm encircling her waist, his palm resting on her lower abdomen. Her breathing was interrupted for a moment by his movement, then returned to normal.

Before dawn the next day, Xiaoya was still asleep, curled up on her side, breathing evenly and deeply. Her fingers loosened the fabric of his shirt and draped over the edge of the pillow. He gently withdrew his arm, tucked the blanket around her, and got up to dress.

He paused at the doorway, pulled a hastily written note from his pocket, and placed it on the bedside table, holding it down under the lamp. The note read: "I'll be back soon. Wait for me."

Then he turned and walked out of the master bedroom, and pushed open the door to the side hall.

In Xuanshuo, the morning light is gradually brightening outside the window.