Uncle Foster was still holding a piece of broken stone, shouting incoherently as he rushed over from behind. Despite his comical movements, his momentum was quite fierce. The green snake paused at the sight, seemingly weighing the combat strength and casualty ratio of both sides.

In the end, its eyelids drooped, and it reluctantly slithered away.

“Hiss!”

For some reason, a chill suddenly ran down William Grant’s spine. The glance that green snake gave before leaving was filled with blatant hostility.

Is it about to become a spirit?

He shook his head to clear his mind and stepped forward to untie the squirrel’s leg. Fortunately, it wasn’t hurt, just a bit stiff. After a few steps, the little thing was back to being a lively, bouncing squirrel.

“All right, you’re fine now. Go back and gnaw on some peanuts!”

He stood up, waving goodbye jokingly, but to his surprise, the squirrel put its little paws together and actually bowed.

“……”

William Grant was stunned. Encountering one was a coincidence, but running into two at the same time was just plain weird! He was dazed for a moment, and when he looked up again, the little thing had already disappeared without a trace.

“Xiao Yu, don’t just stand there, let’s go!”

Over there, Uncle Foster called out at the top of his lungs. He snapped back to his senses and replied, “Coming, coming!”

“There used to be a lot of snakes when you were little, but later we got rid of them all. I haven’t seen one in ages—how come one suddenly showed up again?”

“The mountain’s so big, maybe it was just hiding. But that snake was pretty, not a single blemish on it.”

The two of them walked along, discussing the matter in puzzlement. They had already wasted quite a bit of time, so they didn’t stop again and carried their load straight up the mountain in one go.

……

“Three tea eggs, two bottles of water.”

“Got it!”

“How much for the corn?”

“Three yuan each, five for two.”

“Oh, then I’ll take two.”

“Hey, boss, can you take a picture for us?”

“No problem, where do you want it taken?”

William Grant took the camera and snapped a few shots of the couple cuddling by the railing. In his mind, he put on the cold, indifferent face of a single dog and said with a smile, “All done.”

“Thank you, boss!”

“You’re welcome.”

Afternoon, at the rest area below Old Ox’s Back. This was the busiest time for tourists—starting the climb in the morning, and by average pace, they’d arrive here right about now.

The largest rest area on Phoenix Mountain was halfway up, with lots of tourists and vendors. William Grant had joined the business late and couldn’t get a prime spot, so he had to move a bit further up.

It had its pros and cons. Though this place was remote, it was the only rest stop at this elevation, making it a monopoly.

The benefits of warmer weather were obvious—there were even more tourists today than yesterday. By not even two o’clock, William Grant had sold almost all his supplies, with only a few cracked eggs and a small ear of corn left.

After three waves of tourists, the noisy scene finally quieted down. As usual, he picked up a broom to gather the scattered trash, then collected a few empty bottles.

It wasn’t that he was especially virtuous—he just couldn’t stand seeing the mountain dirty. To put it pretentiously, he had a cleanliness obsession.

It sounded ridiculous—a tycoon, a white-collar worker, a teacher, a college student with OCD, that’s normal. But a mountain vendor with OCD? Come on, you’re not even in the same pixel dimension, okay?

*Clatter!*

William Grant tossed the empty bottles into a woven bag, which was already quite full and could fetch a few yuan. He grabbed his folding stool, sat down, and played on his phone while waiting for customers.

Maybe the peak had passed—no more tour groups, just a few scattered tourists. He couldn’t be bothered to sell anymore, so he picked up the ear of corn and started on his own lunch.

“Sigh, we walk this road together, but whoever draws an SSR is a dog!”

The signal from Mobile Daddy was pretty good. He fiddled with a game for a while, then exited with a look of utter defeat—clearly, he’d been grinding to the point of pain again.

“Squeak squeak!”

“Hm?”

“Squeak squeak!”

He had just tossed the corn cob into the trash bag when he heard a familiar sound. Turning his head, he saw that same big squirrel from the morning squatting behind him.

Describing it as “squatting” might sound odd, but that’s exactly what it was doing.

Its hind legs were bent on the ground, upper body upright, head bobbing like a big-tailed wolf. The most amazing thing was, its front paws were holding a deep red fruit.

When it saw the human looking over, it loosened its grip, and the fruit dropped to the ground, rolling a couple of times.

“……”

William Grant stared at it in silence.

“……”

It stared silently back at William Grant.

The scene was awkward once again. After a while, the squirrel, perhaps realizing this foolish human was lacking in intelligence, lowered its head and nudged the fruit with its nose, rolling it right up to him.

“Are you trying to repay a favor? How about trading me a white fox instead? Squirrels are a bit low-tier, you know!”

He squatted down, muttering as he picked up the fruit to examine it. It looked a bit like a hawthorn, with smooth, tender skin, not a single blemish, and a faint, fresh fragrance.

This thing came out of nowhere—if I eat it, will something weird happen to me? For a split second, a string of great philosophical names flashed through his mind: Billy Herrington, Yuto Sanada, Tristan Bulbalabala…

Damn, this is just too exciting!

“Gugu!”