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Qin Guan’s ambition was evident in his sparkling eyes.

"Wei?"

"Yes?"

"Shall we buy a small house? Not as an investment. I want us to spend the holidays there. This way, I will have a house everywhere and I won’t need to stay at boring hotels. That would be fun. Having a house everywhere would be wonderful! What do you think?"

Cong Nianwei closed her eyes and rubbed her head against Qin Guan’s shoulder. "That’s not a good idea. What kind of house do you want to buy? A tree house would only cost a little, but do you know the average price of a house in Los Angeles?"

"You’d have to maintain it when you are not staying there, and the property tax would cost you a lot. Are you a billionaire or something?"

"You know that the profits of my firm are rising. My value as a model is almost equal to an international top model now. Plus, I have property in China. Considering all my intangible and fixed assets, I’m already a multimillionaire. What do you think of your amazing boyfriend?"

Cong Nianwei was confused. "What else do you own back at home besides your apartment and the Cherokee?"

"I forgot to tell you that I bought eight lots near the East Second Ring. They are about 500 square meters," Qin Guan murmured proudly. "This year, the government assigned an important task to me. I’ll return to China to check the market information."

"What important task? You only care about money..."

"Thank you for reminding me..."

When one was away from the bustling city, they were inclined to return to the origins of nature. They usually adjusted to the inconvenience of not using high-tech products.

Dew was slowly running down along the leaves as caterpillars struggled in their cocoons.

Qin Guan got up early in the morning, put on a black top and shorts and went out to the yard.

He started cutting firewood, scattering branches around him. That was all he could do for the respectful old woman before they left the lovely farm.

Her mate and offspring had left her to her isolated life, but she had stuck to her original idea. In the winter, the old woman didn’t need to deal with the firewood by herself.

Lin, who was watching Qin Guan work, took the pipe out of his mouth and patted Qin Guan on the shoulder.

"I’ll call your agent when I return to New York. I want you on the cover of Time Magazine."

Qin Guan was shocked. "Are you their photography director? Does this mean that you are the boss?"

Lin kept smoking. "You have no idea who I am, but Qu is always telling me about you."

He knocked his pipe against the fence. "I haven’t taken pictures for many years. My first job was the cover of the first issue of VOGUE. I had always dreamed of becoming an artist. As you know though, back in the 1940s, photography was not a good job."

"Now I’m old and I had to stop working, but if I want to, my work could be featured in the most influential magazines in America. I’m still Irving Penn Lin after all."

Qin Guan watched the old man fill his pipe with tobacco again. He still felt uncertain. "But why do you want to help me?"

Smoke rose between them, forming a blurry wall.

"Because you are the dream of all image photographers. Not figure photographers though. Figure photography relies on the market demand. I do not need that anymore."

"Considering my fame and success, I don’t need to meet the market demands or flatter the audience. I engage in image photography because it helps me observe real human emotions."

"Time Magazine just featured a large image on its cover..."

He smiled again and pointed to the pile of firewood next to Qin Guan’s feet. "You are a good boy. I’ll be glad to see your face on the cover of Time. "

Qin Guan scratched his head speechlessly. Our ancestors were right. If you are kind to others, you’ll be rewarded.