In the middle of the night, the narrator brings a jacket to cheng-kuai, who is looking for his friend, xiao-yang. The two men are from different parts of the country, and the narrator's father is an art teacher at a school. The narrator explains that he doesn't care about the holidays, and that he eats, runs, and reads like any other day. He's not a big fan of drawing, braradichioalis, or the anatomy of a arm. He has a tip for artists: practice makes you want to smack your girlfriend less. This is the first gift he's ever gotten from a handmade present. Aww, it's gross, but the narrator feels sorry that he didn't give him a present, but he'd still like to kiss his new friend. He wants to know if he needs to celebrate a festival every year, and if he can't, he says, because it'll feel different from the other days.