After the rain shower the day before, the Wind Instrument Club finished lunch and departed Karuizawa on the school bus.

As they left, the number of tourists in Karuizawa started dwindling, gradually returning to their original places.

One by one, the villas in the forest were closed up, with autumn in Nagano Prefecture just around the corner.

On the 25th of August, Dubian Che and several others hauled out chairs and extension cords to cut hair under the shade of the trees in front of the villa.

"Meijie has never been to a salon since she was little; I've always been the one to cut her hair," Mrs. Jiutiao said, holding scissors and a comb, trimming Jiutiao Meijie's bangs as she sat in the chair.

"Of all the things on this vacation, I'm most impressed by Aunt Youzi's cooking skills, and now I have to add your hairdressing talent," Dubian Che said, sitting upside down in a deck chair.

"I've noticed, Mr. Dubian, that you seem particularly good at sweet-talking?" Mrs. Jiutiao asked everyone.

"Wonder how many girls he's fooled," Kiyono Youzi commented with a laugh, looking up from a hairstyle magazine and glancing at Dubian Che.

"Really?" Jiutiao Meijie asked, keeping her head still, her beautiful eyes looking toward Dubian Che.

"Of course not, you're my first love," Dubian Che said, "And what I said just now wasn't sweet talk, it was a compliment."

"Look!" Mrs. Kiyono exclaimed as if she'd discovered something, "Not only is he good at sweet-talking, his ability to make excuses is just as impressive, no wonder he can juggle several girls at once."

Ever since the rain shower, Mrs. Kiyono had been consistently giving Dubian Che a hard time.

In the hammock between the chestnut trees, Kiyono Lin wasn't reading; she was listening to music with earphones on.

"Aunt Youzi, you can't wrong me like this," Dubian Che defended, "My first kiss was with Meijie, my first time was also with Meijie, and she's the only girl I've actually pursued."

"What about those two girlfriends of yours?" Mrs. Kiyono wasn't going to let Dubian Che off the hook easily.

"That's... "

"You don't need to explain everything to everyone," Jiutiao Meijie said with a smile, "Aunt Youzi, I know what his situation is."

While flipping through the magazine, Kiyono Youzi said, "Meijie, don't let yourself be fooled."

"You'll save yourself the trouble!" Jiutiao Zhenji, intently cutting hair, found a moment to chime in.

"It's not about being fooled," Jiutiao Meijie cheerfully replied with her tempting lips, "Compliments, sweet words, I think they're indispensable between men and women, mood-lifting, fostering harmony."

"Of course—" she quickly turned her words, looking at Dubian Che and saying, "limited to just me."

"Alright!" Jiutiao Zhenji paused her haircutting, brushed off the trimmings from Jiutiao Meijie, and removed the bib.

"How is it?" Mrs. Jiutiao asked a bit smugly of Dubian Che.

Dubian Che evaluated Jiutiao Meijie, then glanced at the mass of hair on the ground: "Where did all this come from? It looks the same as before the cut."

"That's the level of my skill," Jiutiao Zhenji said, laughing with pride at her own daughter.

Looking over, she suddenly remarked, "Upon closer inspection, Meijie looks even more luminous and delicate than before."

"My doing," Dubian Che said, with his hands resting on the back of the chair, proudly pointing to himself.

"Your doing," Jiutiao Meijie stood up and reached out her right hand to Dubian Che, "Here, take it."

If they were alone in the bedroom, she would have offered up those beautiful legs.

"Thank you for your graciousness, Princess," Dubian Che kissed her snow-white, smooth hand.

"Okay, stop performing that husband and wife comedy skit, come sit over here," Jiutiao Zhenji rapped her scissors against the comb.

Dubian Che stood up and sat down where indicated.

"What kind of style would you like?" Jiutiao Zhenji asked, tying a bib around him.

"Just not ugly," Dubian Che quipped, shaking the bib to cover his legs completely.

"That's too easy, your face would still look good completely shaved."

"Hey, ma'am!"

"Call me Supreme Mother."

"...perhaps Meijie should cut it? I belong to her, ugliness and all. Besides, even if it turns out ugly, I couldn't possibly blame her."

"Does that mean you would blame me?" Jiutiao Zhenji asked with a hint of reproach in her tone.

"Well, as a mother and son, it's okay to blame each other when you have such a good relationship."

"You're such a smooth talker. Meijie, give him a less attractive haircut," Mrs. Jiutiao handed over the tools to Jiutiao Meijie.

Jiutiao Meijie approached Dubian Che with a comb in her left hand and scissors in her right, a grin on her face.

"Meijie," Dubian Che said, looking at the shining scissors in the sunlight, "I love you."

"Dear, I love you too," Jiutiao Meijie replied with an even deeper smile.

"Whether I look good or not isn't just up to me, you know, K-san? My K-san?"

"Don't you trust me?"

"I do trust you, it's just that I worry about things like mistaking soy sauce for broth and using half the bottle in one go."

Both ladies burst out laughing.

"I'll cut you with one slice!" Jiutiao Meijie said sternly, a cold expression on her face.

Jokes aside, when it really came down to the actual cutting, Jiutiao Meijie was extremely careful, meticulously snipping away bit by bit.

She occasionally cut her own bangs and ends as well, so she wasn't completely inexperienced.

Dubian Che sat upright, beholding her earnest, moving eyes, and her delicate little face nearly touching his own.

Surrounding him were the sounds of the ladies' chatting, the flipping of magazine pages, and the treetops swaying in the wind, glittering with light.

A softness stirred inside him, giving a very comfortable feeling.

After Dubian Che's haircut was done, it was Mrs. Kiyono's turn.

"We'll go for a walk nearby," Jiutiao Meijie said.

"There are still two more people, come back in an hour," Mrs. Jiutiao instructed, "Then we'll all go to the Sunny Platform for coffee and lunch together."

"Understood," Dubian Che picked up the jacket on the chair and draped it over his wrist.