In the light drizzle, everyone wore smiles on their faces, except for Qiaoqiao who was stuck outside, jumping around like a gopher popping out of its hole: "Brother, what about mine? What is mine?" Until Song Tan stretched out a finger to push him aside: "It’s raining, everyone hurry back inside, we can look at it later when we’re indoors." Qiaoqiao hadn’t even had time to react before Song Sancheng had already swiftly unwrapped a package and was standing under the porch: "Qiaoqiao, look at this fishing rod, isn’t it long? Come take a picture for me." Wu Lan also cheerfully turned back into the house and immediately unwrapped her silk scarf gift box—it was unexpected for Song Tan, as it wasn’t the silk usually favored by Lun Chuan, but rather a simple, soft chiffon. "Oh, keeping it real, huh?" she laughed. Lun Chuan, who had also carried a few boxes back to the living room, now watched Wu Lan drape the long red silk scarf over herself, and with a smile explained: "This scarf isn’t expensive; I was mainly worried about choosing good materials. If it was too light, it wouldn’t look classy; if it was too heavy, it wouldn’t float well, and might snag in the flower fields." Wu Lan didn’t care about the material! "Affordable is good. With expensive ones, I’d have to be careful wearing them out, what a hassle." "Yes," Lun Chuan nodded with a smile, "this scarf comes in 48 colors. I thought you can’t just photograph with one color. Aunt, you start with this, and if the photos turn out well, we can get other colors later." "For example, for the Milk Vetch Flower Field, we could use deep purple, for the canola fields, maybe blue or orange, that would stand out more." "I heard there’s a small patch of colorful canola flowers this year? Maybe I’ll buy a few more to find out which match best?" Wu Lan’s eyes were filled with longing, and she eagerly leaned over to ask: "What other colors are there? Show me." Meanwhile, Qiaoqiao still hadn’t received his gift, and had to take a photo of the long fishing rod that barely fit in the frame for his dad: ... After all this fuss, it was almost noon by the time it was finally Qiaoqiao’s turn. Noticing Seventh Uncle was about to start cooking, he pitifully came over: "Is it my turn now?" Lun Chuan chuckled, quickly patting his head: "Sorry for the delay, Qiaoqiao—here, this box is all your gifts." "This one’s for your good friend Chen Chi. Do you want to pass it to him, or should I give it to him when he comes to visit?" "Brother, you give it!" Qiaoqiao said without hesitation: "I’ve told Chen Chi my brother is super, super good-looking! A hundred times more handsome than his brother!" "Brother, you give it! I’ll call him after lunch!" For some reason, the first thing that came to his mind wasn’t pride but that popular online short video— [My brother is the best!] [My brother is even better!] [My brother can eat poo!] [So can my brother! He can eat a lot!] This terrifying short video had finally eroded his mind, making it hard for him to even maintain a smile, so he awkwardly changed the topic: "Well, why don’t you see if you like your gift first?" Without needing encouragement, Qiaoqiao already excitedly opened the box. "Wow!" Qiaoqiao’s eyes widened in an instant: "It’s so beautiful!" Inside was a complete set of 128 colored oil pastels. The box opened in cascading levels, revealing four layers, like crayons but even more vivid in color. Qiaoqiao immediately turned to Lun Chuan: "Are these for me to draw with?" "Yes," Lun Chuan nodded: "I heard Teacher Tang taught you watercolors last year? So I guessed you might already have watercolor paints. These are oil pastels; I saw many kids in the mall coloring with them, maybe Qiaoqiao would like them too?" "I like them!" Qiaoqiao was thrilled—so many colors! And they’re just like crayons. Actually, Qiaoqiao wasn’t particularly talented at drawing. Teacher Tang taught a bit of everything—music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—so he just learned happily without focusing on talent. But, what child doesn’t love vibrant colors to paint with? Qiaoqiao was no exception! And with oil pastels, you can start coloring right away with bold colors, much more enjoyable than the complex process of watercolor. He didn’t even have the energy to talk to Lun Chuan anymore, hugging the box and dashing upstairs: "I’m going to paint first, brother!" Halfway up, he turned back, looking at another box: "Is Chen Chi’s the same?" Lun Chuan nodded: "But Qiaoqiao is more important to me, so there’s another gift under your box, you’ll have to see it for yourself." In that moment, Qiaoqiao was overjoyed. Until Seventh Uncle called from the kitchen: "Qiaoqiao, didn’t you say you’d make two dishes by yourself today?" Watching the kid excitedly carry his gift upstairs and then reluctantly heading into the kitchen, Song Tan finally asked Lun Chuan: "What’s the other gift?" Lun Chuan smiled: "It’s a tablet; I downloaded some oil pastel lessons on it. He should have fun following the tutorials." Song Tan nodded, unable to help but pat his arm again: "You really know how to please people!" Lun Chuan replied seriously: "Not really." "I’m not very good at this... but for your family, putting in extra effort actually feels quite rewarding." "There are electronic bracelets for Seventh Uncle and Aunt Lianhua; they’re not expensive, but I noticed you all get along so well, I thought why not include them." That truly was thoughtful. You could tell just from the gifts, if the first time Lun Chuan came as a boyfriend he brought expensive, irresistible presents. This time, the most costly was probably Song Sancheng’s fishing rod; the rest were quite affordable, gifts anyone could give. To him, this way of spending money was indeed more heartfelt. Outside, the drizzle was dying down, Song Sancheng unable to exhibit indoors had moved to the empty courtyard to test the length of his fishing rod. Wu Lan was enthusiastically discussing with Aunt Lianhua how to pose with the red scarf, everyone in high spirits. In the spacious living room, only the two of them sat on the sofa. Song Tan stretched out his arm to slip through his coat, once again hugging Lun Chuan’s slim and taut waist tightly. Then she looked up and smiled: "You put thought into everyone else’s gifts, what about mine?" Despite already being a couple and having shared intimate moments before, at this moment, Lun Chuan’s heart still pounded like a drum, and he instinctively held his breath. He slightly lowered his eyes, his dark pupils gazing at Song Tan’s close-up face, his chest feeling like it was filled with cotton candy, with the proximity pouring more sweetness into his heart. After a while, he whispered: Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn noveⅼfire.net "Your gift... I’ll personally give it to you later, okay?"