For once, Jiang Bai’s cooking exceeded his usual standards, even the milk tea he prepared turned out particularly fragrant and sweet.
Seeing Scaramouche return from the stream after washing up, Jiang Bai invited him over.
“You probably haven’t eaten yet. Come and join us. It’s just a simple meal, but it’ll at least fill your stomach.”
Scaramouche’s hair still dripped water. He glanced dismissively at the modest vegetable stew and sat by the fire to dry his hair instead.
He was a puppet; eating was possible but not necessary for him to sustain his strength.
He hadn’t recognized Jiang Bai and Klee. When they’d encountered each other in the cave, they’d been heavily disguised and hadn’t stood out. Naturally, he hadn’t paid them much attention.
“It’ll get cold at night. You should wear something or you’ll catch a chill.”
Noticing how soaked he was, Jiang Bai offered him a set of clothes and a towel.
Scaramouche didn’t accept the clothes, taking only the towel to dry his hair slightly.
“I don’t catch colds.”
Seeing that he didn’t want the clothes, Jiang Bai didn’t press further. Instead, he handed him a cup of milk tea. “At least drink this. It’ll help warm you up.”
Scaramouche eyed the unfamiliar drink with suspicion, frowning slightly. “What’s this?”
“Milk boiled with tea and some sweet flowers added. It’s quite sweet.”
Sweet?
Scaramouche took a cautious sip, unconcerned about poison given his puppet body.
“Sickeningly sweet,” he said with clear distaste—but immediately took another, larger sip.
Jiang Bai realized this youth was the type to say one thing but mean another entirely.
At least the mood had softened slightly. Jiang Bai took the chance to apologize again for the earlier incident.
“I’m really sorry about today. Klee honestly didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
Scaramouche scoffed sharply, his tone typically biting. “Obviously, I know it wasn’t intentional, or else I’d have thrown that brat out right then.”
Jiang Bai smiled awkwardly. “Klee’s interests are… a little different from normal kids.”
“A little? Try completely bizarre. I’ve never seen a child casually carrying around bombs before…”
Scaramouche’s gaze shifted to Klee’s nearby backpack. The longer he stared, the clearer it became how dangerous the pack’s contents were. He could sense the threat of an entire bag full of explosives.
He’d never met such a fearless child, not even in Snezhnaya.
He suddenly felt compelled to warn the brat’s guardian, lest the girl accidentally blow herself up someday.
“Are you her brother?”
“No, her brother asked me to take her out to play.”
“Here’s some advice—don’t let a child handle something as dangerous as explosives.”
At this casual reminder, Jiang Bai chuckled quietly and poked at the fire, making the flames dance brighter.
“You’re actually pretty nice deep down, so why act so gloomy and harsh?”
Scaramouche’s eyes instantly turned cold. “Gloomy? You think I’m gloomy?”
Jiang Bai couldn’t figure out exactly why the boy had reacted so strongly. His moods shifted faster than the weather.
“Uh, would you prefer honesty or something nicer?”
“And what’s your honest opinion, exactly?” Scaramouche countered sharply.
Jiang Bai sipped his excessively sweet milk tea, then smiled innocently under Scaramouche’s cold stare.
“The truth is, you’re quite gloomy. And the nicer version…is that you’re still pretty gloomy.”
Scaramouche’s head jerked up sharply, firelight flickering in his eyes. “Are you mocking me?”
Ignoring the sudden tension, Jiang Bai laughed lightly, without malice.
“You just strike me as pretty awkward. It’s clear in your actions and your words. You deliberately cover up your real feelings by acting cold, harsh, and hard to approach. Like, you seem to dislike Klee, yet you’ve hardly said a truly harsh word to her.”
Scaramouche stared into the fire without responding, his hair slowly drying in the warmth.
He glanced toward Klee, who was still diligently washing clothes. Her tiny figure was busy scrubbing away at the edge of the dark stream.
He had to admit, this person was right about one thing—he didn’t actually hate this noisy little brat.
“Everyone’s past is different. I’m not trying to preach, just saying that if you want to connect with people, sincerity usually works better than being so prickly.”
To Jiang Bai’s eyes, this was just a moody teenager going through a rebellious phase. Something had clearly happened to him to make him behave this way.
Scaramouche snorted disdainfully. “Even if you’re sincere, others may not return the favor. Sincerity often just gets you betrayed.”
Listening to these childish words and observing the obviously teenage-looking Scaramouche, Jiang Bai leaned closer with a sudden realization.
“Hey… could it be that you have no friends?”
Those words undoubtedly struck a nerve. A sudden clap of thunder boomed from the sky.
Scaramouche glared fiercely at Jiang Bai, lightning flickering ominously in his eyes.
“I don’t need friends!”
Looking at Scaramouche’s expression, Jiang Bai knew he’d hit the mark exactly.
A rebellious teenager throwing a fit because he has no friends. It’s not even a big deal.
Jiang Bai patted him on the shoulder in a wise, mentoring gesture, adopting the tone of a seasoned guide counseling a lost teen.
“Listen, young man. Friends aren’t strictly necessary in life, but if you want to be happier, you should at least try doing things that actually make you happy.”
Scaramouche: “…”
He felt like he’d just been subjected to a completely pointless speech.
He pushed Jiang Bai’s hand away from his shoulder, irritated. “Don’t speak to me as if I were younger. I’m not younger than you.”
“Not younger than me? So what are you—a thousand-year-old monster or something?” Jiang Bai looked even more intrigued, though clearly not believing a word of it.
Scaramouche: “…”
He suddenly regretted engaging in conversation with this person at all.
Seeing the youth turn away, clearly no longer interested in continuing the conversation, Jiang Bai shook his head slightly.
He’d simply noticed the boy’s sour mood and tried to lighten things up a bit.
He didn’t know what this youth had experienced, but clearly, he was far too deep in his own world.
Klee returned, carrying the cleaned clothes piled neatly in the large hat, her little feet tapping quickly against the ground. “Jiang Bai, I just heard thunder! Is it going to rain?”
Jiang Bai glanced upward. “Probably not. It doesn’t look like rain to me.”
He helped her hang the washed clothes near the fire. They’d likely dry completely overnight.
As for the large hat, Jiang Bai blew off the water droplets using Anemo, then handed it back.
“Here, your hat.”
Scaramouche tugged the hat onto his head, adjusting it until it sat just right.
The wide brim tilted down, shading his face completely.
He seemed genuinely fond of hats like this—something that wrapped around him entirely, allowing him to watch the human world quietly through the thick veil, just occasionally glimpsing it through a lifted brim.
—
T/N: Jiang Bai x Scaramouche, “I can fix him energy”
This is a fan translation of 胡桃拿我冲业绩 by 余溯. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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