Chapter 2974: Leisure Time (Eight)

Tim stuck out his tongue. It wasn't that he wanted to be so high-profile, but all his clothes, backpack, and laptop bag were prepared by his mom and aunt, all of them branded, the cheapest costing over a thousand US dollars. His wealthy identity was practically stamped on his forehead.

The two of them put down their bags, and Big Beard invited them to a table where a map was spread out. Tim knew that Big Beard was the landlord but didn't expect him to personally introduce them to the local attractions. It seemed Shiller was about to waste some cigarettes.

Indeed, as Big Beard spoke himself hoarse, Shiller handed him a pack of cigarettes. His eyes suddenly lit up, but after glancing at the still young Tim, he just pocketed the cigarettes without smoking.

Then, he got even more enthusiastic, listing various recommended restaurants and attractions, even cyclable trails. Now, Tim understood why this house had such high ratings on Airbnb.

After the landlord left, he discovered that the high rating wasn't just due to the landlord's enthusiasm; the cabin was indeed well-maintained.

The entire cabin was made of stone, but the furniture was all high-quality solid wood. The main feature was the house's side, where the first and second floors were connected by one large window. Being high up, it really provided a view of nearly half of Los Angeles.

The leather sofa on the first floor was covered with faux animal fur, and the carpets were also made of animal fur. However, touching it, Tim realized it wasn't real fur but rather decorative, imitation furniture. The wall next to the sofa and every nook and corner were stuffed with green plants.

The kitchen was directly opposite the living room, and it too had a large window that faced a hillside dotted with beech trees and other deciduous plants, looking very pretty.

To the left of the living room, opposite the bathroom door, were the stairs. Upstairs, there was a bedroom on each side, both with sizable windows, and the fireplace on the second floor was adjacent to a small sitting area right where the stairway ended.

And unsurprisingly, it was a real fireplace, meaning they had to burn firewood.

Tim walked through the living room and out of the kitchen door to a small yard with a barbecue grill and chairs, but no wood or charcoal. He did find an axe in the tool shed, which seemed to mean they really had to chop their own wood.

Moreover, the bad news was that these big-window structures were only suitable in cities with a heat island effect. A cabin in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods, couldn't be warmed by these large windows.

As Tim stepped into the upstairs bedroom, he felt a draft and realized when he saw the fireplace in the bedroom that some of the house's good reviews might be exaggerated.

He then opened the door to another room and found an even bigger fireplace. It seemed the good reviews were not entirely honest.

At the moment, none of the fireplaces were lit, and the whole house was chilly. It didn't take long for Tim to feel cold.

While he was exploring the house, Shiller had already brought over a lot of firewood. Tim asked in surprise, "Where did you get these?"

"I went to town to buy them. Don't mind how I got there," Shiller responded as he took off his suspension ring and added, "Take these to your bedroom and light them. I'll get more later to light up the living room as well. Burning them all night will make it much warmer."

"So you knew it would be very cold here?"

Shiller looked at him as if he were looking at a naive boy and said, "Would a cabin in such a big forest be warm? You weren't expecting central air conditioning, were you?"

Tim shrugged. He knew he was truly a greenhouse flower, always going from Wayne Manor to Drake Manor, and at most, to Wayne Enterprises and Drake Group. He had never lived alone away from home and lacked some basic life skills.

Sometimes he felt this was not so bad since Dick and Jason took care of everything. Even now, he still felt it was better to stay with his siblings.

But he still went downstairs and brought the firewood back to his room and ignited the fireplace. He saw the lights outside the door brighten up; indeed, Shiller had lit the fireplace by the second-floor entrance as well.

He sat on the bed in his room and smiled at Shiller, who came over and patted his head. Together, they went downstairs and lit the fireplaces on the first floor.

After all, California has a mild Mediterranean climate. It gets a bit cool in the fall but doesn't get very cold. Once the fireplaces were lit, Tim immediately felt warm.

Shiller also brought back some food from town. He made a stew with tomatoes, beef, and onions, then sat on the threshold of the house, looking out at the countless lights of Los Angeles and the endless night sky above.

Tim came over, pushed him aside slightly, and squeezed next to him on the narrow threshold.

"Do you still have cigarettes?" Tim asked.

"Aren't you the one who doesn't smoke?"

"I want to try it. Just one cigarette."

Shiller rummaged in his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes, saying, "I hope you're not just starting your rebellious phase now that you're here. There's nothing good about these things."

Tim smiled brilliantly, the lights from the road below tinting his hair a rosy gold, every twist in his expression shouting carefree.

Shiller picked up the lighter, and as Tim held the cigarette, unsure what to do, Shiller said, "You need to take a drag for it to light up. Keep your hand on the side to shield the flame."

Following his instructions, Tim took a deep breath. The spark was ignited, and he felt a rush of smoke go straight up his palate into his nasal cavity, a completely different sensation from secondhand smoke.

Tim removed the cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke. Shiller asked with a smile, "Enjoyable?"

Tim turned to him, shook his head, yet took another drag and looked up at the night sky, "Thanks, I guess Bruce wouldn't teach me to smoke."

"No thanks necessary. You did better than Peter, who coughed for two minutes the first time he tried a cigarette. It was before I got my hands on Chinese cigarettes," Shiller replied.

Tim, hugging his knees, chuckled softly, seemingly able to picture the awkwardness of a boy roughly his age.

"I always encourage young people to explore more. You'd never know how harsh this can be without trying it," Shiller remarked as he put away the pack of cigarettes and added, "But let's not go any further. I always think marijuana smells like vomit. What about you?"

Tim recalled some unpleasant memories, saying, "Jason used to visit his siblings frequently a while ago, I didn't want to mention it, but each time he came back, the smell of vomit on him was suffocating me to death."

Tim, propping his chin with his hand, said, "I've never been to that kind of neighborhood. Sometimes I even wondered if there was something wrong with my nose, thanks for telling me it's not."

"Have you discussed this issue with him?"

"He could tell, so he would change his clothes as soon as he got home. Occasionally, he mentioned it a few times. Most of the time, it's not that he didn't want to advise, but that he was helpless, and I completely understand him."

As the cigarette was nearly finished, Tim drew a final, powerful drag, clearly choking on it, yet he still exhaled the smoke and yawned, "I really don't find this thing stimulating. Coffee is much better."

Shiller stood up and said, "Let's head back, we'll go to the town for coffee early tomorrow morning."

The two stood up, Shiller served Tim some hot soup, and after they finished dinner, they locked the doors and windows.

The fireplace burned warmly all night, and the next morning Tim woke up thirsty.

He awoke early, morning dew hung on the glass, the dewdrops sliding down as the temperature rose. Tim went to the kitchen, poured a large glass of water, and guzzled it down, feeling revived afterward.

Unfortunately, his overly delicate throat had become hoarse from the cigarette he smoked the day before. Later, as Shiller got up, he checked Tim's throat with a flashlight, saw the tonsils weren't inflamed, and both sighed in relief.

Shiller poured him some hot water. Tim, elbows on the island platform, cup in hand, asked, "Why not hot milk?"

"Milk is mucus-forming..." Shiller struggled to explain the concept, so he said, "Too much protein intake at this time isn't good; I'm a doctor, listen to me."

Tim didn't mind, and after drinking the hot water and sweating out, he felt much better. He then declined Shiller's offer to smoke, gesturing that he wasn't interested.

After they were ready, they called the young Black man who was referred to as Little Black Dog the previous day. Clearly, he was still dreaming, so his uncle drove over to take them to the town.

His uncle, clearly more experienced, narrated all the scenic spots around throughout the journey. The car stopped in front of a coffee shop, Shiller tipped the driver and then led Tim out of the car.

On the way, they saw a car rental and planned to inquire later but first entered the coffee shop.

The decor of the coffee shop was incredibly good. When the menu arrived, Shiller realized this must be the trendy cafe popular on short video apps, the prices astonishingly high, almost half as much as in New York.

Tim urgently needed caffeine and didn't find it expensive. He ordered around two or three hundred US dollars worth of items and generously tipped $20, making the waitress almost burst with happiness.

"Travel is about enjoying yourself," Tim said. "My mom always tells me this, if you don't have money, just stay at home. Going out is about enjoying spending money; that's the meaning of earning it."

"This is small change for you, young master," Shiller said with a smile.

"What shall we do next?" Tim asked. "Pamela probably won't arrive until tonight, I guess she'd prefer staying in the town."

"Why?"

"I just saw a few beautiful influencers."

Shiller rolled his eyes slightly, "It's not likely more than the number of followers she has. She said she hasn't tried a Latino beauty yet."

Tim began to educate Shiller about Pamela's outrageous behaviors, telling him how she dated two girlfriends simultaneously at Gotham University. One of these girlfriends had a male and a female partner, and the male partner got involved with Pamela's other girlfriend, leading to the first one fighting with the second.

Soon, the butter croissant was brought over and steaming coffee placed on the table. The two spent the morning gossiping. Shiller realized Tim really loved gossip, at least if you asked Jason or Dick, they probably hadn't even heard about it.

Tim said this showcased his keen sense of information, adding that the complete version of this gossip was told to him by Bruce.

"I'm curious, didn't they try to fight Pamela?" Shiller found himself quite gossipy too.

"Both wanted to confront Pamela at the same time, but Pamela was sharper in this regard. She hid in her lab and wouldn't come out."

"Wouldn't they go in?"

"Her lab is filled with Attacking Cabbage, who dares to enter?"

"I bet she considered this aspect when studying attacking vegetables."

"Mainly for this reason."

The two clinked their coffee cups gently, and when it was time to leave, the waitress came to settle their bill. The friendly Latino young man curiously asked, "Are you father and son?"

"Of course not, I'm a doctor, and he's my nephew. I came here on vacation and brought him along."

"Yes, uncle," Tim said sarcastically.

Then they began wandering around the town, rented a red car, and slowly drove into the heart of Los Angeles.