That night, the house was exceptionally quiet.
Having scared the couple off, Qiao Ning slept soundly and even had a lovely dream. What exactly he’d dreamed, he forgot upon waking; he only remembered it was a very good dream.
The next morning, the couple left quietly too. Never mind before, when Qiao Ning used to rise earlier—after he started Lying Flat, though he claimed to sleep until he woke naturally, in practice he was still jolted awake by the noise his co-renting roommates made. Soundproofing in an old building was hard to guarantee, and the couple certainly wouldn’t lighten their movements out of consideration for him still sleeping.
Qiao Ning had endured too many hard days to fuss over such small things. Once they left, he went back to sleep.
Only today did he learn they were capable of not disturbing him after all.
When buying the aloe gel materials yesterday, Qiao Ning had deliberately chosen a seller shipping from this city. Given the delivery speed, it would arrive today.
After getting up with nothing to do and eating breakfast, Qiao Ning packed up his belongings, especially his wardrobe.
Qiao Ning didn’t own many clothes, and they were basically all cheap. He’d bought clothes by price tag, not fabric—which meant that after drinking the Spirit Spring Water and turning into “crispy skin,” he discovered many of his clothes were unwearable.
Some garments weren’t stiff at all, yet worn against his skin they itched and prickled.
After some research, it seemed to be a fabric issue. Once filtered, his already-meager wardrobe was more than half culled.
Culled was culled. In his past life he’d gradually discarded these same clothes after starting work—worn so long they’d gone loose and shapeless, and in the workplace he couldn’t dress too student-like anymore.
This left Qiao Ning with barely anything wearable. He was a little worried about buying suitable clothes back in his hometown, so at minimum he needed to determine, now, which fabrics his skin could tolerate.
So that morning, Qiao Ning simply went to the nearby shopping mall and bought a few T-shirts, shirts, hoodies, and pants. He tried them on—all fabrics his skin could accept.
Qiao Ning paid special attention to the tags. These clothes were mostly cotton, silk, lyocell, modal, and the like, with some blends. That was basically it.
There might be other premium fabrics his skin wasn’t sensitive to, but within modestly priced shops, this was what Qiao Ning could find.
Good enough. From now on, he’d just pick skin-friendly fabrics when buying clothes.
After the clothes, he bought a few dispensing bottles for the aloe gel he’d make.
Since he was already at the mall, he had lunch there too—a salted egg yolk tender chicken pizza all to himself. Fed and satisfied, Qiao Ning carried his new clothes home, content.
The delivery arrived right on schedule: the gelling agent, antibacterial agent, and rose hydrosol. The cardboard boxes would come tomorrow.
Only after picking up the package and getting home did Qiao Ning see the messages Lin Chengxuan had sent—asking if he had any fruit left, when the blueberries would be in, whether the cherry tomatoes could be restocked.
Qiao Ning was secretly smug. He knew no one could refuse his Spirit Spring fruit. A family as rich as Lin Chengxuan’s would only eat more expensive fruit regularly—and even that couldn’t compare.
Qiao Ning replied to each: out of stock; blueberries would take a while; cherry tomatoes couldn’t be restocked.
Lin Chengxuan expressed regret, then invited him to dinner that evening. Qiao Ning declined with an excuse as well.
Ending the chat, Qiao Ning washed his hands and went to cut aloe for the gel.
Elsewhere, Lin Chengxuan put down his phone and immediately met two pairs of expectant eyes.
“Well?” Lin Jiayi asked eagerly. “Any more?”
Lin Chengxuan shook his head. “Out of stock.”
Madam Lin pressed, “Are you sure he’s out, or did he sell to someone else? A-Xuan, do you know his supply source?”
She’d sent the cherry tomatoes for testing, and the results were already back—an absolutely beautiful report. She couldn’t quite understand all those elements and contents; the point was, very healthy, extremely healthy, good for the body.
Reduced cardiovascular risk, anti-inflammatory, anti-cancer—it sounded mystical. Of course eating a few fruits wouldn’t work miracles, but those elements really did have such effects, and that alone was comforting.
Most importantly, it was genuinely delicious. Tasty AND healthy.
Once the report was out, Madam Lin’s heart settled completely. The remaining cherry tomatoes at home could be eaten with peace of mind.
Not.
There were none left. The fridge held only empty boxes. Faced with Madam Lin’s questioning, the nanny auntie could only smile awkwardly and say nothing.
How was she supposed to tell Madam that in the middle of the night, her two children had come sneaking for fruit and bumped right into each other—that the siblings had fought over a single cherry tomato and nearly come to blows?
It was Lin Jiayi who raised her hand first. “Mom, stop asking the auntie. I ate them. And Second Brother—he ate them too.”
As for why she hadn’t left any for the rest of the family… Mom had said something so cheap might be unhealthy. They were young; they weren’t scared; it wouldn’t kill them.
Now it was proven—cheap could still mean good.
Lin Jiayi declared loudly, “It must be because Second Brother is too stingy! No wonder they don’t want to sell to him. Fruit this delicious, and he had the nerve to pay a hundred eighty-eight a jin!”
“Nonsense!” Lin Chengxuan felt utterly wronged. That price had been set by Qiao Ning and company themselves, okay? Sure, he’d thought it expensive at the time, but he hadn’t haggled—and he’d bought out their whole stock. That hardly made him a detestable customer, did it?
Lin Jiayi: “You took advantage of them, you cheapskate.”
“Lin Jiayi, I’m the one who bought that fruit!” Lin Chengxuan was so angry his hair nearly stood on end, and Madam Lin hurriedly played peacemaker.
Qiao Ning had no idea someone was complaining his fruit was too cheap. He was looking at his freshly made aloe gel.
The process wasn’t complicated—just tedious and laborious. If not for wanting to test Spirit Spring aloe’s effects, he’d rather have spent money buying aloe gel than make his own.
Especially the final stage: once the aloe was processed and the gelling agent, antibacterial agent, and other ingredients added, the aloe’s own heavy gum required continuous stirring to fully combine.
The tutorial videos used an electric mixer. Qiao Ning didn’t have one, so he stirred by hand for a good twenty-odd minutes, stopping only when the mixture reached the state described in the tutorial.
After resting for two hours, it was basically done.
Tired? Not really—he’d done far harder physical labor. Just his palms rubbed red again.
Qiao Ning ate a few cherry tomatoes and calmed himself. He’d already made peace with his fragile skin—call it the price of getting taller. It would recover soon anyway.
Because the aloe at home had grown so lush, the yield from what he’d cut exceeded his expectations. Good thing he’d bought the larger dispensing bottles.
250 ml pump bottles. Qiao Ning filled nearly three bottles of handmade aloe gel—the third not quite full.
The residual gel in the containers, he dug out to try on himself. He’d looked into this precisely because he planned to make it—some people are allergic to aloe gel and can’t use it, and with homemade gel, problems were even likelier.
Then again, Qiao Ning wasn’t planning to sell it. He just wanted to test whether aloe watered with Spirit Spring Water showed the same benign development as those fruit plants.
Qiao Ning was now a crispy-skinned case, and he didn’t know if he was allergic—but you couldn’t exactly ask someone else to test first, and aloe gel allergies rarely killed.
He scooped out a dab with his finger. Where it touched, the skin felt cool—beyond that, no adverse reaction.
Only then did Qiao Ning spread the gel on his inner arm, feeling carefully. Just a cool, moist sensation, no pain or itch. Visually, no sign of redness or rash.
Qiao Ning breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently he wasn’t allergic to aloe gel.
He washed his hands and left the gel on his inner arm untouched. Even by shower time, hours later, there was no adverse reaction.
Qiao Ning relaxed. The aloe gel was a success, then.
As for effects… hard to tell. His skin was already translucently pale and felt supple and hydrated—same with or without aloe gel. No discernible difference.
All that hydrating, brightening, spot-fading stuff… that would take time. It was only aloe gel, after all—even specialized medicines didn’t work that fast.
Feels like all that effort for nothing…
Qiao Ning rubbed his chin, then broke into a smile. He’d done exactly what he wanted to do—how could that count as wasted effort?
