Category: How To Use His Feathers (Page 3 of 7)

Four hours ago, inside a small roadside snack bar.

“I’m indeed not as spirited as I was in my youth, but I always felt I’ve maintained myself pretty well.”

The plate of stinky tofu had been wiped clean. Feng Jiachi bit on a cigarette with a bitter expression. “But over the years, as the company’s team has continued to expand, many young talents have joined.”

“Among them are plenty of fresh graduates, outstanding and full of vitality.”

He sniffed, and the Tibetan Mastiff beside him raised its head and let out a low whine, wagging its tail. “Quite a few of them, like Tan Yu, are also graduates from District Seven’s Computer Institute.”

Xi Xianqing hesitated to speak.

He exhaled and, with difficulty, tried to comfort the melancholic and weathered man in front of him. “President Feng, you really don’t have to be so anxious. Actually—”

“Hmm?” Feng Jiachi gave him a strange look. “Oh no, I’m well aware of how handsome and dashing I am.”

Xi Xianqing: “…?”

Feng Jiachi sighed. “We people from District Six do have some appearance-related anxieties, but I wouldn’t go so far as to compete with others every day la. I just compare myself to my younger self and there are times when I feel very emotional.”

“I once asked Tan Yu if he would grow tired of me when I get older, and he said he wouldn’t.”

Feng Jiachi said wistfully, “But now, he won’t let me touch him or make out with me, and even refuses to communicate with me… If this isn’t proof that he has completely lost interest in my body and looks, then what is?”

Xi Xianqing couldn’t speak.

The driver stopped the car in front of the hotel. Before parting, Feng Jiachi took out a delicately packaged paper bag from the trunk.

“Mr. Xiao Xi, you’re still young and handsome, so you might not understand the anxieties of us middle-aged men yet. But what I said today, every word comes straight from the heart.”

He stuffed it into Xi Xianqing’s hand. “This is a face mask a friend brought me, said it has some anti-aging factor in it. You can give it a try.”

“Oh, and here are two tickets to the Eco-Park our company invested in. It just opened recently.”

Resting his hand on the car door, he sighed, “When you’re young, it’s important to cultivate relationships and actively find common ground.”

“Tan Yu and I… we were too busy building our careers back then.”

The only thing Xi Xianqing could clearly remember in the end was Feng Jiachi’s heavy sigh: “Only now do I realize, the hearts of those District Seven people are so hard to tether…”

Leaving aside the tickets for now, Xi Xianqing was initially very resistant to beauty products like face masks.

But while washing up in the bathroom, he suddenly recalled the “medication” test scheduled for tomorrow. His gaze immediately shifted to the paper bag.

Inexplicably, his hand reached for it in the end.

He didn’t expect that just as he applied it on his face, Zhu Ming, who had just woken up, would see him.

“Xi Xianqing?”

Zhu Ming sat up in bed, his eyes full of doubt. “Why are you putting on a face mask…”

Xi Xianqing froze, only to hear the person in front of him continue asking, “And why didn’t you include me?”

Ten minutes later.

“Can I open my eyes now? It’s really cold oh.”

“Don’t move. I still need to adjust it around your nose.”

“Hmm.”

“….Okay, open them.”

With a face mask on, Zhu Ming opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

With a face mask on as well, Xi Xianqing lay back on the bed. The two of them exhaled a long breath in unison.

The white fox at the bedside curled up contentedly, and the green peac0ck squinted its eyes in comfort.

Zhu Ming murmured, “District Four really is much drier than District Six and District Seven. Pampering and moisturizing like this once in a while feels so nice.”

“En.”

“By the way, why did Feng Jiachi give you this kind of face mask?”

“…Don’t know.”

After a while, Xi Xianqing casually mentioned, “Besides the face masks, he also gave me two tickets to the District Four Eco-Park.”

Zhu Ming: “I see ah.”

Xi Xianqing added more details, hoping Zhu Ming would grasp the underlying message in his words. “The tickets are only valid for the next three days.”

However, he only heard Zhu Ming give another “hmm”.

Xi Xianqing’s shoulders moved slightly.

As if waging a massive internal battle, Xi Xianqing finally spoke in a low voice, “Should we… go?”

Zhu Ming seemed confused and let out a puzzled “Huh?” before saying, “What? You’re wearing a face mask, your words aren’t very clear ah.”

Xi Xianqing pressed his lips together, peeled off the face mask, and sat up straight. “I’m asking you if you want to go together.”

Zhu Ming was still confused: “What?”

Xi Xianqing: “…?”

Zhu Ming lay quietly on the bed for a moment longer before his shoulders began to tremble slightly, as if unable to hold it in. Then, with a soft “pfft,” he burst out laughing.

His hands trembled as he peeled off the face mask that had shifted from laughing too hard. His bright, amused eyes gazed at Xi Xianqing’s face.

Xi Xianqing froze for a moment before becoming both embarrassed and annoyed. “You heard everything just now?”

“Thank you, Young Master Xiao Xi, for taking the initiative on your kind invitation,” Zhu Ming said with a playful smile. “I’m truly honored.”

“But since we’re going out tomorrow, we should make the most of the opportunity and simulate the assessment scenario as early as possible.”

Clearing his throat, he deftly changed the subject and asked in a light tone, “By the way, regarding tomorrow’s ‘medication,’ are you okay taking it outdoors?”

On a weekday afternoon, at District Four’s Eco-Park.

In fact, as far as specifications were concerned, District Seven’s Natural Wildlife Park was undoubtedly the best on Xi Star.

District Four’s newly opened eco-park, though smaller, made up for it with a compact and well-rounded setup. It featured plenty of souvenir shops and photo spots, focusing more on creating a fun experience. It was ideal for families to spend quality time or for couples to enjoy a lovely weekend together.

However, the dynamic between Xi Xianqing and Zhu Ming was rather unique—

“This outing has two main objectives.”

Zhu Ming explained seriously in front of the zoo entrance. “First, we haven’t sent Madam Zhu Yingying any couple photos in a while. She’s been urging us repeatedly these past few days, so we need to update the gallery.”

“Second, the environments of the last two kisses… cough, the medication locations varied greatly. Although your display opened successfully, too many uncertain factors haven’t yet been completely ruled out.”

Zhu Ming continued, “To ensure that during the final assessment, we can perfectly time your display activation at the precise moment, we need to rehearse in advance.”

Xi Xianqing was wearing sunglasses, his expression was kept hidden, but the tension in his jawline was visible. “You really know how to maximize time.”

His lips pressed tightly together, and his voice carried a faint rasp. “So, you’re saying that later, in broad daylight… you’re going to feed me the medication and then observe?”

“Hard to say, I haven’t decided on the exact location yet.”

Zhu Ming waved at a giraffe chewing on leaves and said, “It can’t be too obvious, but it also can’t be completely deserted. We need to simulate the crowd size that’ll be present on the day of your final group photo.”

“But since we’ve already come here,” he looked around with excitement, “let’s take this rare chance to enjoy the holiday and embrace the beauty of nature.”

Zhu Ming’s idea of enjoying nature didn’t surprise Xi Xianqing at all—the first step was enthusiastically ordering a ridiculous amount of snacks from food stalls in the park, piling his arms full until he could barely hold it all.

When it came time to pay, he realized his hands were full and turned around, blinking pitifully at Xi Xianqing.

Xi Xianqing expressionlessly opened the payment code.

As they strolled through the park, eating and drinking along the way, they eventually arrived at the Hundred Bird Garden.

The Hundred Bird Garden featured a beautiful setting with a central lake for waterfowl. Swans and pelicans, and others swam in flocks, while birds of prey like vultures and snowy owls perched on branches behind enclosures.

As they wandered, Zhu Ming remarked with interest, “Do you feel a sense of coming home?”

Xi Xianqing: “…”

For those on Xi Star with animal-type spiritual manifestations, zoos indeed carried a different kind of significance.

After walking a bit further, they spotted a cheerful young man whose spiritual manifestation, a red-crowned crane, stood by his feet. He was taking photos with an actual red-crowned crane strolling nearby.

Zhu Ming read aloud from a sign next to them: “The park assistant reminds you: It is said that if you find your spiritual manifestation’s real-world counterpart and take a photo with it, making a wish at the sound of the shutter, your wish is guaranteed to come true…”

After reading it, Zhu Ming didn’t say anything. He simply turned around and stared at Xi Xianqing’s face with a thoughtful expression.

He didn’t even need to speak for Xi Xianqing to know what mischief he was brewing. “This is a public place.”

Zhu Ming said, “But taking a photo together can make wishes come true. Don’t you want to pray for your assessment results?”

Xi Xianqing glanced at him, lifting his chin. “Let’s talk about it when you can find the peac0ck.”

And Zhu Ming actually found one.

Although District Four’s eco-park wasn’t large, the pheasant garden had a surprisingly complete collection of animals.

Naturally, peac0cks were among the highlights, though there weren’t many since the park had only recently opened—just two, a blue peac0ck and a green one.

Zhu Ming extended his hand politely. “After you.”

Xi Xianqing let out a light sigh.

—Seconds later, Dish Soap appeared on the ground, blinking its beady eyes and wiggling its butt, curiously observing the unfamiliar surroundings.

Inside the enclosure, the real green peac0ck strutted over. The two green peac0cks, from entirely different dimensions, stared at each other as if seeing another version of themselves in another world.

Zhu Ming opened the camera and adjusted the settings, while the white fox lay comfortably on his neck, ready to join the family photo. “Alright, look at the camera—”

Behind him, Xi Xianqing stood between Dish Soap and the real green peac0ck, looking over at Zhu Ming from a distance.

Zhu Ming raised his hand in a peace sign and pressed the shutter.

When he lowered his head to check the group photo, he realized that after these months of being with Xi Xianqing for the assessment, his skill at taking couple photos had reached near perfection.

With a slight smile, Zhu Ming sent the photo to Zhu Yingying.

—Then he felt a tug on the hem of his clothes.

When Zhu Ming lifted his gaze, he found himself looking into the teary eyes of a little girl with braided pigtails who had somehow appeared in front of him.

Zhu Ming: “…?”

The little girl blinked her big, watery eyes and timidly said, “Hello, big brothers. My name is Duo Duo. I’m in third grade this year. I don’t know if I can trouble you to…wuwuwuwu.”

Before finishing “trouble you to”, the little girl’s face was already covered in a mix of big snot and small pearls.¹Tears. She sobbed so hard that she couldn’t say a complete sentence.

Zhu Ming was startled. “Aiya, what’s wrong? Can’t find your family?”

From a distance, Xi Xianqing frowned at the scene and walked over, his gaze silently asking what was going on.

Zhu Ming shook his head helplessly while trying to comfort the little girl, making it clear that he had no idea either.

As they were at their wits end, a young mother carrying multiple shopping bags appeared in the crowd, her expression anxious.

The moment she saw the little girl, she let out a sigh of relief. “Duo Duo, you stinky girl, you’re always making things difficult!”

The little pearls on the girl’s face fell even faster as she wailed, “Mom, wuwuwuwu—”

“Aiya… I’m so sorry! I told her not to bother other people rashly, but she just wouldn’t listen to me.”

The woman, panting for breath, bowed repeatedly in apology. “Like a wisp of smoke, this child ran off. I couldn’t stop her, it was really too abrupt.”

Zhu Ming sighed in relief, then asked, “Is there anything we can help with?”

The woman’s expression became helpless all of a sudden.

“I feel embarrassed to even say this. She ya, has been squatting in front of these two peac0cks all afternoon, just waiting for one of them to spread its tail so she can take a picture.”

The woman gave an awkward smile. “But the administrator said the park’s only female peac0ck fell ill and was sent away to recover. The two left here are both males. Normally, they’re just barely coexisting, let alone putting on a display.”

Seeing the two of them appear approachable, the woman hesitated before cautiously suggesting, “If it’s not too much trouble, could your spiritual manifestation spread its tail and let her take a photo?”

It wasn’t a particularly unreasonable request, yet she noticed the expressions of the two men shift suddenly.

The young mother initially waited expectantly for their response.

However, as the two men remained silent, their complex expressions unchanging, her face grew awkward. She waved her hand and quickly added, “Of course, if it’s inconvenient, that’s fine. I’m really sorry…””

Xi Xianqing pursed his lips and said in a hoarse voice, “It’s okay. We can do it.”

Zhu Ming remained quiet for a moment, then lifted his face and smiled at her, his eyes curving slightly. “But we’ll need to go to the restroom first. Can we meet back here in a bit?”

The woman, caught off guard but delighted, quickly said, “No problem, no problem.”

She stood there, a bit bewildered, watching as the two disappeared down the path.

The little girl wiped away her tear streaks, staring at the two listless real peac0cks inside the enclosure for a while. “Mom, do you think those two brothers will really come back?”

The woman actually couldn’t tell if these two were really going to the restroom or running away, and hesitantly said, “Alright, let’s wait ten minutes. If the two brothers don’t come back, we’ll leave, okay?”

Time ticked by slowly, and the park’s announcement broadcasted a reminder: the park would close in thirty minutes, and visitors should begin leaving in an orderly manner.

The young mother sighed and bent down. “Duo Duo, let’s go. We can always come back another time…”

Duo Duo pouted. “No! We’ll have finals soon. By the time we come back, it’ll already be next year. I want to see the beautiful big peac0ck now, wuwuwuwu…”

The girl sobbed as she continued producing small pearls, and the woman had no choice but to crouch down, softly comforting her.

In the midst of her crying, the girl suddenly spotted something, her eyes widening with surprise as she excitedly pointed into the distance. “Mom, Mom! Look! It’s a peac0ck with its open tails! So beautiful!”

The mother turned around in surprise.

Though composed of illusory spiritual proton particles, the green peac0ck before her had a tail adorned with beautiful fanned feathers and an elegant crest atop its head, making it even more magnificent than a real peac0ck.

It wiggled its butt proudly, walking daintily over to the little girl’s side, where it raised its tail feathers, boldly displaying its shimmering plumage.

The woman was overjoyed, repeatedly expressing her gratitude to the two people. “Thank you, thank you so much!”

The young man in the wheelchair shook his head with a smile. “Go take some photos with the little girl.”

He looked no different than he had ten minutes earlier, except for the flush on his cheeks and the faint shimmer in his moist eyes. His delicate features, paired with his gentle smile, made it hard for anyone to look away.

The tall, handsome young man behind him, with dark green eyes, appeared a bit peculiar.

—He had slightly turned to the side, pressing the back of his hand against his lips, and the blush on his neck had spread all the way down to his collar, remaining silent throughout.

What did they just do? Did they really go to the restroom?

The young mother wondered curiously.

But her daughter’s urging brought her back to her senses, so she didn’t dwell on it further. Turning her head, she picked up her phone to snap pictures of her daughter with the elegant and beautiful green peac0ck.

Zhu Ming silently lifted his gaze to glance at the person beside him. “Mr. Xiao Xi, don’t you think covering your mouth like that is a bit too obvious?”

“Dr. Zhu.”

Xi Xianqing gritted his teeth slightly. “Do you need me to let go right now so you can see for yourself the masterpiece your teeth left behind?

“It’s just that I didn’t expect you to suddenly stick out your tongue. It startled me a little.”

“For the last time, I didn’t stick out my tongue. I was just adjusting the angle. Do you have any idea how tiring it is to keep bending over to… receive the medicine?”

“Mm, how about next time you carry me over to a sink or something, and we get to the same height before starting the treatment?”

“How’s that sound?”

“…Possibly.”

---

Author’s notes:

To help the poor little girl fulfill her wish, two kindhearted big brothers resolutely chose to use their tongues to fling each other’s mouths fiercely^_^

(I’ve posted a nonsensical little Mid-Autumn Festival skit in the feed. Feel free to check it out!)²I really tried to stalk the author’s Weibo but can’t find it :blobcry: I’ll edit once I do.

Friday afternoon, LotusX District Four headquarters.

Nova sat at her workstation, nibbling on a half-baked cheese.

On her computer screen, the latest over-the-top dog-blood drama from District Six was playing, while the owl perched on her shoulder squinted its eyes in delight.

The elevator’s arrival chime sounded.

Her expression remained calm as she tossed the remaining cheese into the trash, swiftly switched her screen to the meeting agenda, and adjusted the badge on her chest.

The moment Nova stood up, the elevator door just opened.

“Mr. Xi, Mr. Zhu, good afternoon to you both.”

She bowed to the two men stepping out. “President Feng and President Tan have been waiting for you in the office. Please follow me.”

Xi Xianqing responded with a “thank you for your hard work,” while Zhu Ming replied with a smile.

Leading the two men to the top-floor office, Nova knocked on the door and heard a “come in.”

The voice belonged to Tan Yu. She pushed the door open.

Inside, Tan Yu stood serenely in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, watering the plants with a spray bottle. He wore silver-framed glasses. The Maine cat tilted its face upwards contentedly, basking in the sunlight.

On the sofa, Feng Jiachi was equally composed, legs crossed as he flipped through design drafts at the desk. Beside him, an enormous Tibetan mastiff lay curled up, peacefully snoring.

Facing such a tranquil scene of lovers enjoying a serene afternoon together, Nova couldn’t help but reveal a heartfelt smile.

However, she had a fleeting sense—perhaps just an illusion—that Xi Xianqing and Zhu Ming’s expressions subtly shifted for a moment.

Nova didn’t dwell on it, simply reporting, “President Tan, President Feng, Mr. Xi and Mr. Zhu are here.”

Feng Jiachi acknowledged her with a brief “Mm,” placing the documents aside. “You may leave.”

Nova bowed once more and closed the door behind her.

The moment the door shut, Xi Xianqing and Zhu Ming had the honor to witness a flawless face-changing performance straight out of Sichuan opera.

Tan Yu’s expression turned indifferent as he put down the spray bottle, immediately creating distance between himself and Feng Jiachi. Feng Jiachi’s face darkened at once; he let out a cold snort, flung the manuscript in his hand to the side, and turned his head away.

“I truly apologize for my lack of composure during our last meeting.”

Tan Yu glanced at the people behind him and exhaling lightly. “Today, I’ll try my best to cooperate, but… the efficiency probably won’t be very high.”

Feng Jiachi almost jumped out of his office chair. “Tan Yu, what do you mean by that? Are you implying that I’m holding things back, huh?”

Here we go again. Xi Xianqing and Zhu Ming exchanged silent glances.

Fortunately, they had anticipated this in advance.

“There will be three meetings in total. The first one is mainly to discuss jewelry preferences and daily styling habits. These topics don’t actually require both of you to be present.”

Xi Xianqing faintly said, “How about this: today, I’ll discuss matters with President Feng first.”

“And then I’ll find a place to have a private conversation with President Tan.”

Zhu Ming raised his head with a smile, meeting Tan Yu’s eyes. “That way, it’ll be more efficient. Does that work?”

Both of them were stunned.

After a brief pause, Tan Yu said, “I have no objections.”

Feng Jiachi was silent for a while before muttering in a low voice, “Just what I wanted.”

Tan Yu picked up his suit jacket without hesitation. “Let’s go, Mr. Zhu. I know a quiet place that’s perfect for discussing serious matters.”

Feng Jiachi let out a scoff.

He strode forward, slinging an arm around Xi Xianqing’s shoulder and raising his voice deliberately. “Mr. Xiao Xi, I’ve got a secret spot too. Today, I’ll make sure to give you special treatment.”

Xi Xianqing: “…”

Ten minutes later, in a small alleyway in District Four.

Xi Xianqing worked to keep his tone calm. “President Feng, your secret spot is a stinky tofu shop?”

Feng Jiachi ordered several dishes in one go and patted him on the shoulder. “This place has two signature dishes that are absolutely divine. One is extra-spicy stinky tofu, and the other is—”

Xi Xianqing’s expression remained blank. “Braised intestines in brown sauce, right?”

Feng Jiachi: “Huh? How do you know?”

“Oh.” He realized and chuckled, lighting a cigarette. “You and your lover played <Choices>, didn’t you? Pretty good taste.”

Xi Xianqing observed the details of the shop. After a brief silence, he asked, “The options in the game—are they based on personal experiences between you and President Tan?”

Feng Jiachi exhaled a puff of smoke. “That obvious? To be precise, it’s a record of our early days—dating, fighting, growing, and finding balance.”

Xi Xianqing recalled something, “Durian jam?”

“En. It was during the company’s annual gala. I thought it’d be fun to set up a blind box game like that.”

Feng Jiachi sighed. “I didn’t expect to get so carried away and accidentally smeared the jam on Tan Yu’s suit. His face turned green on the spot, and it took me the entire night to coax a single word out of him.”

He glanced around the shop with a wistful look. “As for the first time I brought Tan Yu here, I ordered these two dishes: extra-spicy stinky tofu and braised intestines in brown sauce.”

“Then he scolded me.” He grunted and laughed, “That stinky temper ah.”

Though his words were filled with complaints, the rebellious arch of his brows softened into unmistakable warmth. As the smoke dissipated, his gaze lifted again, now tinged with melancholy and nostalgia.

“Young Master Xiao Xi, you and your partner are newly married. Still in the throes of passion, right?”

Feng Jiachi let out a sharp breath through his nose. “When Tan Yu and I were your age, every single day was—”

He abruptly paused, an unspoken thought hanging in the air. With a bitter smile, he tapped the table lightly with his chopsticks. “Look at us now.”

Xi Xianqing was silent for a moment. “So, what exactly happened before our last meeting… to create that situation?”

“Because he’s been inexplicably not giving me any face lately.”

Feng Jiachi irritably picked up a piece of stinky tofu. “Right after the meeting that day, I couldn’t help but ask him why. He wouldn’t answer, just kept that icy look on his face. I pressed him again and again, but he still wouldn’t speak. Eventually, I lost my temper… and we had a fight.”

“We’ve argued plenty of times before, and when things get heated, we’d always throw around the word divorce.”

Feng Jiachi murmured, “But this time, when he said divorce, I felt like he… might actually mean it.”

The frustration and dejection in Feng Jiachi’s tone were so evident that Xi Xianqing couldn’t help but glance up at him.

Through gritted teeth, Feng Jiachi muttered, “But I think I’ve already figured out… why he’s been acting like this toward me.”

“Oh, right. Your lover is from District Seven too, isn’t he?” He asked hesitantly.

Xi Xianqing said, “Yes.”

Feng Jiachi’s expression sharpened. As though finding a kindred spirit, he grabbed Xi Xianqing’s arm. “Have you two ever had a fight or a cold war? How did he react?”

Xi Xianqing pursed his lips slightly, remaining silent for a moment before saying, “We stop talking, and then… he goes straight back to his lab pod and starts working on experiments.”

“Exactly the same as Tan Yu!”

Feng Jiachi slammed the table angrily. “When he’s mad, he just put on a cold face, grabs his laptop, and starts coding. He uses stuff I don’t understand to completely cut off any chance of communication. He never gives me a way to make peace!”

As the two talked, their shared grievances deepened. Xi Xianqing’s gaze turned cold. “Precisely.”

“People from District Seven ah. They’re too smart, too rational. Sometimes it feels like they don’t even need love.”

Feng Jiachi sighed wistfully. “When I managed to win Tan Yu over, I always wondered—what did he even like about me? People from District Seven aren’t interested in art, and aside from gaming, we don’t seem to have any shared interests ah. Why didn’t he pick someone else from his team?”

“Later, I figured it out. Back then, the only thing that could attract someone like him—a District Seven person—to someone like me, a District Six person, was just one thing.”

Feng Jiachi’s expression turned obscure. “Something that, as time goes on, I feel… I’m slowly losing.”

Xi Xianqing’s eyebrows moved slightly.

He looked as if he didn’t care, but after a brief silence, he couldn’t resist asking, “What is it?”

Feng Jiachi let out a cold snort. Behind him, the Tibetan mastiff let out a low “wu” and wagged its massive tail.

“This.” He raised his hand and pointed to his face.

–

Tan Yu pushed open the door to the bar.

“This is a quiet bar I frequent,” he said, turning slightly to politely hold the doorframe, making it easier for Zhu Ming to maneuver his wheelchair inside.

Zhu Ming softly thanked him and entered the bar, scanning the somewhat familiar décor in front of him.

Noticing the change in Zhu Ming’s expression, Tan Yu asked, “You’ve been here before?”

Zhu Ming smiled faintly. “Not only have I been here, but the last time I came, I walked in on my own two legs.”

Tan Yu paused, understanding his meaning, and smiled as well. “It seems, Mr. Zhu, you’ve played the Seventeenth Stage of <Choices>.”

“At the time, I had a feeling that every stage in the game must have a real-life prototype.”

Zhu Ming glanced down at his own legs, sighing softly. “And the level of technology in the game… It’s truly unforgettable ah. Experiencing a creation like that even once is well worth it.”

“Our neuroscience experts from the Academy of Sciences in District Seven served as consultants for the development team to ensure an immersive experience.”

Tan Yu replied smoothly. “The company is also currently working on rehabilitation therapy projects. If Mr. Zhu would be willing to participate and give advice, it would be our honor.”

“After all, even someone like me, who isn’t in the medical field, has heard of your name in District Seven,” he said gently.

After this exchange of impeccably polite compliments, the atmosphere between them relaxed considerably.

Zhu Ming took out the light screen from his bag, displaying the list of questions Xi Xianqing had prepared in advance, such as the types of events Tan Yu frequently attended, his preferred color schemes, and gemstone choices.

Tan Yu’s expression remained calm as he thoughtfully and thoroughly answered each question.

The efficiency of communication between the two District Seven natives was extraordinary—there wasn’t a single wasted word, and they finished recording all the answers in under half an hour.

“I don’t think I have any more questions.”

Zhu Ming set the light screen aside and glanced around the bar. “I recall Nova mentioning that <Choices> was officially released ten years ago.”

“For a bar’s décor to remain unchanged for such a long time is quite rare,” he said.

“It is,” Tan Yu replied, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his glass. He admitted openly, “That’s because I bought it and have kept it the same as it was back then.”

Zhu Ming could easily sense the deep emotions behind this. “So that stage…”

“We were in our early 20s. The team had just started, and he and I weren’t together yet.”

Tan Yu said with a faint smile, taking a sip of his tequila. “During a team gathering, I lost a game and was dared to choose between taking a drink or kissing the bartender. I chose to drink.”

“When I got up to order a drink, Feng Jiachi, that idiot, thought I was going to kiss the bartender…”

He sighed softly. “In his panic, he viciously kissed me in front of everyone.”

“At the time, I didn’t plan to include this story in the game, but he insisted on adding it. One reason was that he said our first kiss was worth remembering.”

Tan Yu said softly, “The second reason was that we later felt this part could help many couples in the haze of uncertainty understand their feelings. So, when we worked on it, we kept it.”

Zhu Ming froze briefly, then nodded after a long while, smiling. “So that’s how it is.”

Tan Yu seemed a bit drunk, propping his face on his hand with a faint smile. “No matter what, it did sound beautiful at the time, didn’t it?”

Behind his glasses, his lashes lowered slightly. “When we were young, we believed love could conquer all difficulties. Later, when our shared dream finally came true, we found everything had already changed beyond recognition.”

Zhu Ming quietly looked at the side of his face.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Zhu. We’ve only met twice, yet I’m unloading such grievances on you.”

Tan Yu composed himself, forcing a smile. “I just… have been holding it in for too long. I’m really sorry.”

“No, I’m more than willing to listen, and I’m glad you chose to share this with me.”

Zhu Ming said softly, “But I want to say, though it’s difficult to speak up, communication can sometimes be the best remedy.”

“But our problem isn’t that simple.”

Tan Yu gave a bitter laugh. “If it were just ordinary misunderstandings, I’d be willing to give all my effort to fix them. But what he did has left no room for reconciliation in my eyes.”

“Could you keep this secret for now?” He looked into Zhu Ming’s eyes.

Zhu Ming seemed to realize something. “Could it be—”

Tan Yu’s lips moved slightly. He picked up his glass and gave a faint “mm.”

“He cheated,” he said.

–

Evening.

The door to the hotel suite opened, and Xi Xianqing entered, his gaze falling on the person in the center of the living room.

“You’re back?”

Zhu Ming sat on the sofa in the living room, his fingertips scrolling the light screen of Bang Bang. “Do you want fried rice or pan-fried dumplings, fried pork cutlet or teriyaki chicken?”

Xi Xianqing didn’t move and calmly hid the bag in his hand behind him. “Pan-fried dumplings and teriyaki chicken, less oil.”

Zhu Ming’s mouth twitched, “I’ll make a note then.”

After placing the order, Zhu Ming noticed Xi Xianqing walking out of the bedroom and casually asked, “How did the conversation go?”

Xi Xianqing seemed to stiffen slightly. “Nothing much, just asked a few basic questions.”

Zhu Ming let out an “oh” and said, “Not much talk on our end either.”

Xi Xianqing appeared to probe unintentionally, “Did Tan Yu mention to you why he wants a divorce?”

Zhu Ming remained composed. “No ah.”

“Did Feng Jiachi mention to you what he thinks might be Tan Yu’s reason for wanting a ..divorce?” Zhu Ming asked in a seemingly nonchalant tone.

Xi Xianqing’s Adam’s apple moved slightly. “Neither.”

If one thought about it carefully, both their answers carried a distinct “nothing to see here” undertone.

“Here, I’ve recorded all Tan Yu’s answers to your questions for you.”

Zhu Ming handed the light screen to Xi Xianqing, subconsciously moving toward the lab pod in the living room. “The food should be delivered by Bang Bang in about half an hour. I’ll just…”

When he lifted his head, he saw that Xi Xianqing’s face had turned extremely dark. “Why are you still going into that lab pod?”

Zhu Ming first froze, then “oh”-ed.

“I forgot,” he said. “Sorry.”

—Time went back to last night.

When Xi Xianqing had said, “I don’t want to take this medication from an outsider” even the former top candidate of District Seven struggled to process it for a moment.

“I need to clarify if there’s a problem with what I’m understanding.” Zhu Ming hesitantly pointed at himself, “You mean, you only want me to—”

Xi Xianqing’s eyes fell in the distance, and he promptly interrupted, “Yes.”

The redness at the tips of his ears had not faded entirely, but he maintained a seemingly composed demeanor. “Anyway, the last two times I’ve taken… taken your ‘medicine,’ I’ve gotten used to it. It’s not something I can’t accept.”

“If it’s just for the assessment.”

It was unclear whether he was speaking to Zhu Ming or to himself as he articulated each word: “Paying this price is something I don’t mind.”

Zhu Ming mulled over the word “price” repeatedly.

His gaze fell on the green peac0ck in the living room, delightfully displaying its feathers. He nodded and, after a moment, said softly, “From the perspective of helping Dish Soap display its plumage and contributing to scientific research, I don’t mind either.”

“But do you really not mind?”

Zhu Ming confirmed seriously, “If you back out halfway and don’t want to try this ‘medicine’ anymore, and then want me to continue researching something else—well, we researchers aren’t donkeys…”

Xi Xianqing interrupted him through gritted teeth. “I. Don’t. Mind.”

—Time back to the present.

“Then there’s indeed no need to enter the lab pod ha.”

Zhu Ming slowly lowered the hand controlling his wheelchair. After a moment of thought, he asked candidly, “If I may boldly ask, are you planning to take the medicine today?”

Xi Xianqing’s originally self-contained demeanor instantly became stunned, “You—”

His face changed color in an instant, and as if not wanting to appear too eager, he averted his gaze. “Not today. I’m a bit tired… and besides, I just took it yesterday.”

Zhu Ming nodded. “I see.”

“But,” Xi Xianqing’s lips moved as he added, “after finishing the draft tomorrow… I might be able to spare some time.”

Zhu Ming’s lips curled slightly. “Alright.”

After dinner, Xi Xianqing began sketching in his study, constructing drafts based on the morning’s collected information about clothing habits and personal style.

Zhu Ming, on the other hand, had a rare moment of leisure. After a video call with Zhu Yingying in the bedroom, he felt a wave of drowsiness.

In the afternoon, while chatting with Tan Yu, he had a bit of alcohol. Though it wasn’t to the level of that banquet fiasco with the wild antics, he was indeed finding it hard to keep his eyes open now.

He hadn’t been sleeping well the past few nights. After washing up, a person and and a fox went back to the bedroom and fell asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but in his hazy drowsiness, he murmured something and turned over.

Groggily opening his eyes, he vaguely glimpsed a tall, dark shadow emerging from the bathroom. It stood by the bedside, its hands repeatedly moving across its face, adjusting something.

The scene was somewhat unsettling. Battling his sleepiness, Zhu Ming forced his eyes open a little wider.

Then the dark shadow turned its head.

Then Zhu Ming was confronted with a ghastly white, expressionless face.

If it weren’t for his firm belief in materialism, Zhu Ming might have shouted the first “There’s a ghost!” of his life at that moment.

But he trusted science. So, despite the flood of expletives piling up at the edge of his tongue, he forced himself to calm down, even as he stared in shock at that deathly pale face.

Immediately afterward, something suddenly dawned on him. Tentatively, he called out a name: “…Xi Xianqing?”

The dark shadow suddenly froze in place.

Zhu Ming squinted, examining him carefully. Convinced of his suspicion, he reached out and turned on the bedside lamp.

“On your face…”

As the light filled the room, Zhu Ming’s expression shifted to hesitation. “Is that a face mask?”

---

Author’s note:

The sneaky big peac0ck trying to secretly enhance his beauty got caught red-handed by the little fox!

Thank you very much, Salt Rose or Topaz, for the ko-fi! :blobaww:

---

Zhu Ming had long noticed that Xi Xianqing didn’t like making eye contact with others.

When conversing, he always habitually averted his gaze, either turning his face away or focusing on some distant object.

In the eyes of outsiders, one would probably think that this person was extremely arrogant and unwilling to properly look at people.

But from Zhu Ming’s perspective, this was actually a way of concealing his true emotions, a refusal to reveal his inner thoughts.

Thus, this habit became a key for Zhu Ming to interpret Xi Xianqing—whenever Xi Xianqing avoided eye contact, it generally meant there was a significant disparity between what he was thinking and what he was saying.

So at this moment, when Xi Xianqing rarely fixed his gem-like eyes directly on him, Zhu Ming’s mind went momentarily blank—he actually didn’t know how to respond.

“It doesn’t only include these two NPCs…”

Zhu Ming could only allow himself to try to be as calm as possible as he locked eyes with Xi Xianqing, “What does it mean?”

Xi Xianqing quietly looked at his face for a while, then shifted his gaze away and spoke after a long pause, “In that corner, there’s also a resident singer NPC.”

Zhu Ming: “…?”

For a split second, he thought Xi Xianqing was joking. But when he turned to look, he indeed found an ordinary NPC holding a guitar in the dimly lit corner.

It was just that the lighting in the corner was faint, and the two NPCs standing beside them had such exquisite models that the singer’s presence had been overlooked.

Zhu Ming immediately heard Xi Xianqing ask, “Do you think it’s feasible?”

This is actually a bit strange to say the least, because Xi Xianqing was the one who would need to kiss the NPC, yet he was asking Zhu Ming whether it was “feasible.”

However, Zhu Ming didn’t notice this slight peculiarity at the moment, as his mind wasn’t fully present either.

It felt as if his consciousness wasn’t entirely in his body.

He realized he was more like an observer floating above the ceiling, watching himself and Xi Xianqing sitting in front of the bar at the moment.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when Zhu Ming finally heard himself answer, “This game is capable of synchronizing spiritual manifestations. Theoretically, it should be possible to detect the feather response.”

Xi Xianqing remained silent.

Only after a long time did he stand up, as if calmly staring at Zhu Ming’s side face, and said word for word, “Okay, I’ll go then.”

Zhu Ming was silent for a moment and let out a “hmm”.

“Then… I’ll give you some space too. I’ll wait outside the door with Dish Soap and observe the reaction of its tail feathers.”

He also stood up, paused briefly, and asked, “Can you get Dish Soap to follow me?”

When he looked up, Zhu Ming noticed that Xi Xianqing was staring at him steadily.

Xi Xianqing didn’t say anything, but his chest rose and fell for a split second. A few seconds later, the green peac0ck perched on the bar counter drooped its feathers, slowly hopped onto a high stool, and then landed on the ground, eventually walking to Zhu Ming’s side.

Without looking at Zhu Ming again, Xi Xianqing turned and strode quickly toward the corner.

Zhu Ming stood frozen for a moment. It was unclear if he was looking at the green peac0ck by his feet or talking to himself when he said, “Let’s go.”

Walking out of the bar, rain drizzled down in the evening light.

Zhu Ming stood at the eaves and turned around.

His task now was simple: to wait and observe any ripples in Dish Soap’s tail feathers.

He turned back and stared in front of him:

On his left was the green peac0ck with its head raised, its beady eyes cold and emotionless as it stared at Zhu Ming’s face.

On his right was a white fox with fluffy fur. It shook its tail, glanced at the green peac0ck beside it, and then raised its head to look at Zhu Ming.

The white fox tilted its head, its gentle, round eyes quietly gazing at its master as if asking, “Do you want its tail feathers to fluctuate or not?”

Zhu Ming was quietly stunned.

The rain continued to fall, and the faint sound of a jazz saxophone intermittently drifted from the bar.

Zhu Ming’s eyes never left the green peac0ck’s tail feathers for a second, but he observed no visible ripples.

After a moment, he looked up, pressed his lips together, and suddenly turned around to head back toward the bar’s entrance, intending to push the door open.

—But in the next instant, the door was pulled open from the inside first.

Xi Xianqing stood inside the bar, facing Zhu Ming, who was in the fine drizzle outside.

Zhu Ming, somewhat startled, asked, “You… already finished?”

The dim lighting inside the bar cast Xi Xianqing’s expression into the shadows.

He did not say anything, only the depths of his throat issued a vague “hmm”.

Zhu Ming couldn’t quite describe how he felt. After a moment, he nodded and smiled lightly.

Placing his hand on the doorknob, he turned to look at Dish Soap, whose tail feathers were drooping. “So it seems I misjudged.”

Xi Xianqing still didn’t make a sound.

“I lost.” Zhu Ming shrugged, admitting defeat with ease. “This theory might indeed…”

Zhu Ming didn’t finish the second half of his sentence.

That was when he realized something illogical—if the task had been completed, why hadn’t the victory prompt sound, signifying a completion of the choice, gone off?

A subtle premonition crept over him, and he suddenly looked up. “Did you just not—”

The voice was suddenly drowned in the depths of his throat.

Zhu Ming felt his jaw gripped in an instant, tilted upward, and then his lips were forcibly covered by something dry and soft.

His pupils contracted sharply, and he didn’t know where to look. All he could see was the continuous drizzle falling from the eaves. His gaze stiffly shifted downward to Xi Xianqing’s furrowed brows and lowered lashes.

-And the roots of his slightly pinkish ears.

With their noses almost touching, the sensation on his lips was vivid. Xi Xianqing’s way of kissing was exactly like his personality—reckless, arrogant, and inexplicably tinged with anger.

—His clumsy and inexperienced teeth bumped against Zhu Ming’s lower lip, causing a sting that made Zhu Ming flinch and stumble backward a few steps.

Just as his back was about to hit the wall, he felt a hand supporting his waist.

His body naturally leaned forward, and the kiss deepened seamlessly.

Breaths intermingled, inexperienced yet intense, as the sound of the steady rain outside grew more blurred in the moment. The next instant, the ding-dong signifying victory rang out once again.

The seventeenth choice has been completed.

At the same time, a cold system prompt sounded in Zhu Ming’s ears: “Your gameplay time has reached three hours. For your mental and physical health, the system has forcibly logged you out of the game.”

The surrounding sounds gradually faded from Zhu Ming’s ears—the rain, the jazz music, and finally, Xi Xianqing’s breathing. At the very last moment, a sharp “beep” pierced through.

Zhu Ming violently opened his eyes.

Darkness greeted him. He lay there, his mind blank, before reaching out in the dark to remove the helmet, gasping as he woke up from the game pod.

Although it was just his consciousness that had entered the game, the sting on his lips lingered as vividly as if it had happened in reality.

He covered his mouth and turned his head to look at the person beside him.

The door of the game pod opened, and Xi Xianqing also sat up at that moment.

Zhu Ming’s breathing was still unsteady. One hand covered his mouth while the other pointed at Xi Xianqing’s face. “You—”

Before he could finish saying “you,” Xi Xianqing spoke first in a hoarse voice, “When I got closer just now, I realized that NPC playing the guitar had a horribly rendered face. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

The finger Zhu Ming was pointing at him trembled slightly. “…”

Xi Xianqing’s shoulders rose and fell for a split second. “And we were about to be forcibly logged out of the game. I didn’t have time to think too much—I just wanted to clear the level as quickly as possible.”

Zhu Ming lowered his hand, his mouth slightly open as he exhaled, his expression showing that he urgently wanted to say something.

Thinking Zhu Ming was still dissatisfied with his explanation, Xi Xianqing became a bit flustered and defensive. “You were the one who said it yourself—everything in the game is just code, and for the sake of testing—”

“Can you let me get a word in?” Zhu Ming interrupted him, unable to bear it any longer.

Xi Xianqing: “…”

Zhu Ming closed his eyes and adjusted his breathing. “Right now, release Dish Soap immediately and bring me the sensory gloves for the lab pod—now, immediately, right now!”

Xi Xianqing: “…?”

Zhu Ming rapidly unwrapped the cables tangled around him, unable to conceal the excitement in his voice. “Then carry me to the living room! It’s more spacious there. Hurry!”

Zhu Ming had never been so frazzled in his life.

The usual response to a kiss might involve silent reflection, a delayed wave of shyness, and then casually looking away as if nothing happened.

But Zhu Ming’s mind had only one thought at that moment: Since the kiss already happened, I need to prove my theory is correct as soon as possible.

For researchers, there’s an unrelenting obsession with validating their theories that few others can comprehend.

With the sensory gloves strapped on, his phone set to record, and a wave-detection light screen placed on his lap to record, Zhu Ming prepared everything for the crucial observation phase.

Zhu Ming stared at the green peac0ck’s every move with a subtle expression and held his breath.

In the center of the living room, bright particles gradually gathered. Dish Soap stood calmly before the two of them, took a couple of steps, then turned its back to them, displaying its long tail feathers that showed no signs of rising.

The two were silent for a moment.

Xi Xianqing’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “Maybe it’s not like what you thought…”

“No.” Zhu Ming interrupted him softly. “Now, try controlling your spiritual power.”

Xi Xianqing was stunned.

Half skeptical, he took a deep breath and calmed his mind.

A few seconds later, Dish Soap’s butt abruptly shook. Its feathers began to quiver and slowly spread open.

Xi Xianqing’s pupils constricted slightly as he struggled to steady his breath, his fingers silently digging into the edge of the sofa.

Zhu Ming’s hand holding the recording device trembled slightly, but he said nothing.

The green peac0ck appeared as if it would fully unfurl its feathers. Its butt twitched again, then suddenly stopped.

—And then, at a visible pace, the tail feathers began to droop, wilting slowly back into place.

Zhu Ming’s breath hitched. He snapped his head to the side and commanded, “Don’t lose focus. Concentrate. Don’t let your thoughts wander.”

Xi Xianqing wordlessly clenched his teeth.

The flush on his ears deepened as he cast an unreadable gaze at the green peac0ck before exhaling and turning his face away.

The green peac0ck’s tail feathers, which had stopped their downward droop, began to happily twitch again.

It began to fully unfurled its magnificent fan of feathers, then proudly swayed its butt and strutted across the living room, head held high.

With his theory confirmed, Zhu Ming’s shoulders finally relaxed. He let out the most relieved and contented breath he’d had in days.

Five minutes later, Dish Soap still haughtily swayed its butt around the living room, flaunting its dazzling tail feathers and walked in the living room for the umpteenth time.

Zhu Ming stood with his arms crossed, lips pressed together in silence, lost in thought. On the other side of the sofa, Xi Xianqing sat stiffly, his expression frozen in an unfamiliar blankness, as though he was a statue.

Raising their heads at the same time, their gazes met briefly before both looked away.

After a moment, Xi Xianqing couldn’t help but speak. “…What do you think?”

Zhu Ming was also silent for a moment, “I don’t know. What do you think?”

An invisible ball was tossed back and forth between them. Xi Xianqing’s eyes narrowed with irritation as he retorted, “You’re the doctor I hired. I’m asking you about my treatment plan, and you’re asking me what I think?”

Zhu Ming rubbed his nose. “Because you’re a sensitive patient, and I’m a doctor with a fragile heart. The last time I proposed a plan, it made you furious, so this time I thought I’d check how you feel first.”

At this time, they were extraordinarily humble.

Xi Xianqing’s heart was stuffy and blocked, “Just say it.”

Zhu Ming raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Promise to keep your emotions in check?”

Xi Xianqing shot him a glare.

“Well, based on the observations so far, kissing seems to temporarily restore your spiritual power and allows you to control Dish Soap’s tail feathers.”

Zhu Ming sighed softly, “Of course, the duration of this effect is currently unknown.”

“But from a purely scientific perspective,” he added with a raised eyebrow, “for now, we can only say there’s a correlation between kissing and the tail-feather display; but they’re not necessarily causal.”

Xi Xianqing: “…What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, kissing does help with displaying your feathers, but it’s not the actual cure.”

Zhu Ming softened his tone. “If the real cause can be identified, theoretically, you can recover completely. You wouldn’t need any external aids, such as kissing, to display your feathers on your own.”

“Of course, one step at a time. For now, kissing is undoubtedly a good starting point for research.”

He looked with satisfaction at the healthy feather display of the green peac0ck. “You could think of kissing as a medication that helps you display your feathers, but the treatment effect is extremely short-lived.”

Glancing at the person beside him, he cautiously changed his tone. “Of course, it’s also a somewhat taboo medication, one that treads on the edges of morality.”

After a long silence, Zhu Ming heard Xi Xianqing speak in a low voice, “If kissing is simply treated as a form of medication… it’s not entirely unacceptable.”

Zhu Ming let out a “hmm”.

A few seconds later, he realized what Xi Xianqing had just said and, he gave another “hmm?” in disbelief.

Xi Xianqing’s lips moved, and then he added two more words, “But still.”

Zhu Ming knew it was impossible for Xi Xianqing’s mindset to open up so completely all at once.

He looked somewhat at a loss as he stared at Xi Xianqing’s face, waiting to hear what kind of condition would follow the transitional phrase.

“For security and confidentiality reasons,” Xi Xianqing leaned back on the sofa, his legs elegantly crossed. His gaze lingered briefly on Zhu Ming before appearing to land calmly in the distance. “I don’t want to take this medication from an outsider.”

Thank you very much, Salt Rose or Topaz, for the ko-fi! :blobaww:

---

Zhu Ming finally understood why the NPC modeling in this level was so meticulously detailed.

At first, he thought it was just a simple and brainless mini-game. But as the levels progressed, he gradually sensed that the game kept pushing the players’ bottom line.

From trivial matters in daily life, it escalated to weightier, more difficult life choices.

Among these, of course, were choices that tested physical and emotional boundaries.

The two of them sat in silence, facing the question.

Zhu Ming raised his hand and slowly pushed half of the drinks on the plate toward Xi Xianqing, leaving the other half in front of himself.

“Ten glasses in total, five for you, five for me.”

Zhu Ming lightened his tone. “No matter how realistic it is in the game, there’s no way we can actually get drunk. Let’s finish this quickly.”

Xi Xianqing lowered his eyes, staring at the extinguished flames on the liquor, not saying anything.

“I’ll drink first ha.”

Zhu Ming picked a seemingly harmless clear drink, took a small sip, then immediately covered his mouth, his eyes vacant. “I really don’t get it… Was it necessary to replicate even the burning sensation as it slides down your throat?”

After a moment, Xi Xianqing said blandly, “You have a third option.”

Zhu Ming knew he meant exiting the game.

But having come this far, Zhu Ming genuinely didn’t want to admit defeat.

“I think that in order to make the process less painful,” the tip of the fox’s tail swayed silently. Zhu Ming looked at Xi Xianqing with a calm expression. “Why don’t we play another game inside this game?”

Xi Xianqing’s eyebrows twitched slightly, vaguely sensing that he wasn’t up to anything good.

“The rules of the game are simple.”

After a moment of thought, Zhu Ming said enthusiastically, “We ask each other something we’ve been curious about for a long time but have never dared to ask in real life out of politeness or social courtesy.”

Xi Xianqing silently looked at him.

“If the person being questioned doesn’t want to answer, they must drink a glass of alcohol. Likewise, if the questioner is satisfied with the answer, they must drink a glass of alcohol.”

Zhu Ming explained, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of the glass. “Of course, ‘satisfied’ here means the questioner feels the answer is sincere and not a lie.”

“What do you think of this game?” He asked with a smile.

After a long pause, Xi Xianqing said , “The game mechanics are unreasonable, and the game itself is rather pointless.”

Zhu Ming just blinked and didn’t say anything.

Xi Xianqing looked away, seemingly letting out a silent sigh. “…You ask first.”

Zhu Ming nodded his head.

He thought for a moment before asking frankly, “Previously, you mentioned your sister missed the optimal age for cochlear implantation… Why was that? Didn’t your family notice anything unusual when she was very young?”

Xi Xianqing froze.

He stayed silent for so long that Zhu Ming thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he suddenly spoke—

“Because my sister and I weren’t born in District Six.”

Xi Xianqing said, “The Xi Family only learned about us later and brought us back. By then, the optimal age for implantation had already passed.”

Zhu Ming was stunned..

Given Xi Xianqing’s proud demeanor, most people would assume he had been raised as a cherished young master from a wealthy family.

However, on second thought, while Xi Xianqing had an arrogant temperament, it wasn’t the haughty arrogance of a typical privileged heir. Instead, it was a reserved, hypersensitive heart.

Xi Xianqing said nothing more, simply pushing a glass of alcohol toward Zhu Ming, signaling that he had answered the question and Zhu Ming needed to fulfill his part of the deal.

Zhu Ming gritted his teeth and reluctantly downed the drink.

The bitter taste of the alcohol spread in his mouth. Before he could react, he heard the person beside him ask, “Your leg, how did the accident happen?”

Zhu Ming wasn’t too surprised by this question.

He ran a fingertip over the remnants of the liquor at the corner of his mouth and answered, “Car accident.”

Xi Xianqing’s expression shifted. “Could your answer be any more perfunctory?”

“Why, do you still want to hear some details?”

Zhu Ming sighed and explained, “It was just an ordinary day. I was taking a cab home late at night from the research institute. Half-asleep, the ride-hailing car¹Refers to transportation services arranged via online. I just don’t know how to phrase it in English, so I kinda went nearer its literal translation. collided with a large truck.”

“One blink later, when I woke up, the truck driver was dead, and the ride-hailing car driver was in a vegetative state.”

He smiled faintly and gestured toward his leg. “I guess I was the luckiest one—ending up like this.”

“Is that enough detail?” He asked.

Xi Xianqing’s Adam’s apple moved slightly. “You—”

Zhu Ming pushed a glass of alcohol toward Xi Xianqing, smiling as he watched his face.

Xi Xianqing took a deep breath.

He tilted his head back and drank it all in one go. Unlike Zhu Ming, his reaction wasn’t as dramatic, only a slight furrow of his brows.

Propping his chin on his hand, Zhu Ming said, “My turn again.”

“A long time ago, you told me you wanted to fight for the position of District Six representative to protect your sister.”

Piecing together Xi Xianqing’s earlier answer and bits of information he had overheard from Xi Hongming at the previous banquet, Zhu Ming paused briefly and softened his tone. “Is it because, when you were younger… something happened to you and your sister in the Xi Family?”

His beautiful, mischievous black eyes reflected an amber-honey hue under the light.

Xi Xianqing controlled his gaze, shifting it away from Zhu Ming’s face. “Actually, this isn’t my first time in District Four.”

Zhu Ming was stunned.

Xi Xianqing’s eyes fell on the glass. After a long silence, he said, “My sister and I were born in District Four.”

For years, there had been an unspoken taboo in the Xi Family—someone no one would bring up in front of Old Master Xi Jianfeng: his fourth son, Xi Mingsong.

Xi Mingsong had been one of Xi Jianfeng’s most talented children. However, he was overly ambitious and disdained the overly traditional atmosphere of the Xi Family. Not wanting to be bound by the rigid frameworks of classical art, he ran away from home and went to District Four when he was young.

At first, it was just to seek inspiration, but Xi Mingsong quickly became entangled in the forbidden pleasures of the nightlife, eventually having a fleeting romance with a nightclub dancer.

He forgot the greatest taboo of such places—he fell in love with the dancer.

But the dancer only saw him as an ordinary customer in the indulgent world of nightlife. Even after giving birth to Xi Mufei and Xi Xianqing, she left without hesitation when she found a customer she deemed more valuable.

The heartbreak stifled Xi Mingsong’s creative inspiration, and his mental state worsened. Unable to care for his two children, he left them in the care of neighbors for long periods.

Amid excessive use of drugs and alcohol, his mind grew more erratic. He shut himself in his studio, refusing to eat or drink, and eventually starved to death in front of a blank canvas.

It was only then that the Xi Family learned of Xi Mufei and Xi Xianqing’s existence and brought them home.

Xi Xianqing’s expression remained calm. “It’s just that when we first arrived at the Xi Family, life didn’t improve much.”

Zhu Ming, struggling to recover from his shock, sighed. “I suppose not. Considering the level of jealousy your relatives had toward you and your sister…”

“When we first arrived at the Xi Family, we had nothing.”

Xi Xianqing shook his head. “So what they felt toward us wasn’t jealousy, just pure malice.”

The Xi Family was too large, and there were too many outstanding children.

Most of them had the backing of their parents, but at that time, Xi Mufei and Xi Xianqing had no one standing behind them.

Xi Mufei was simple-hearted and firmly believed in the inherent kindness of people. But in truth, it was only because she couldn’t hear the harsh, cutting words.

It happened during a banquet.

So much time had passed that Xi Xianqing could no longer recall whose birthday it was.

He only remembered that the banquet was extravagant. A beautiful cake adorned with delicate glass sugar flowers sat on the table—a gift said to have been custom-ordered by a renowned sculptor from District Two.

The cake wasn’t large. The Xi Family’s children fought over it eagerly. At the time, Xi Mufei and Xi Xianqing, only 14 or 15, could only stand in the corner and watch.

Xi Mufei’s expression was full of longing—but she didn’t tell Xi Xianqing that she wanted a piece because she knew that with such a small cake, it would never reach them.

As the banquet was nearing its end, Xi Xianqing went to the restroom.

When he returned, he happened to see two Xi Family children hiding behind the dining table, whispering with peculiar expressions.

One of them lowered their voice hesitantly, “Keep it down, don’t let her notice. Besides, what we’re doing… isn’t this a bit too much?”

“Don’t worry, my mom told me she’s really a deaf person.”

The other said with a cheeky grin. “And spit is something you can’t see or taste. What kind of noise can she make?”

“That’s right, she should be thanking us instead. Otherwise, where else would she get to eat something this good?”

The first boy recalled something and snickered, covering his mouth. “Did you hear her earlier? She even stuttered while trying to say thank you to us.”

The two of them huddled together, their sharp laughter piercing Xi Xianqing’s eardrums.

He had a very bad feeling in his heart.

When he returned to the banquet hall, as expected—Xi Mufei was holding a piece of cake in her hands.

“At the time, she was even happily gesturing to me that she hadn’t taken a single bite.”

Xi Xianqing said. “Because she wanted to wait for me to come back and eat it together.”

Zhu Ming felt a tightness in his chest, as if an invisible hand was squeezing his heart. He gazed at Xi Xianqing and softly asked, “And what happened after that?”

Recalling something, Xi Xianqing’s lips twitched slightly.

“I smashed that cake right into their faces,” he said.

At the time, Xi Mufei couldn’t hear the confrontation, so she didn’t understand why Xi Xianqing did it and frantically tried to intervene.

But when she saw the shattered cake on the ground, a faint realization dawned on her. She stood frozen, the light in her eyes gradually dimming.

“Thank goodness you returned the favor then.”

Zhu Ming said, patting his chest and exhaling deeply. “Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“But judging from the results at the time, it wasn’t really a great relief.”

Xi Xianqing calmly said, “Because I was beaten up by those two children’s parents.”

The little peac0ck, still in its fledgling stage with underdeveloped feathers, struggled to fight against two fat boys on its own.

Let alone when adults joined in—it became almost a one-sided beating.

In truth, if Xi Xianqing had just said he was wrong, things wouldn’t have escalated so disgracefully at the banquet. At the time, Xi Mufei was crying, using sign language to beg him to apologize.

But Xi Xianqing just didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to.

Xi Xianqing said, “Later, it was Aunt Ye, who was working as an assistant of my grandfather at the time, who happened to pass by and stopped them.”

As if something was choked deep in his throat, Zhu Ming was unable to speak for a long time.

He suddenly understood why Xi Mufei had told him before that she didn’t like attending banquets, and why Xi Xianqing didn’t want her to attend such occasions either.

He also thought back to the first time he met Xi Xianqing, when he had said something absurd about “not liking to eat outside.” It turned out there was a reason behind it.

“At that time, Aunt Ye told me that in a place like the Xi Family, standing out would make people resent you. But hiding your brilliance wouldn’t help you avoid trouble either—it would only make others think you’re weak.”

Xi Xianqing said, “So later, I stopped hiding. I worked hard and eventually earned my grandfather’s attention.”

“Though I know very well that even now, most of the connections I’ve built and the respect I’ve gained are largely due to my grandfather’s regard for me.”

He said, “That’s why I need to rise to the top, for myself and for my sister.”

Perhaps the setting of the game made him feel relaxed, or maybe it was the effects of the virtual alcohol in this coded world, but Xi Xianqing had never spoken so openly about his thoughts before.

However, the person beside him never spoke again.

Xi Xianqing felt uneasy and pushed a glass of alcohol toward Zhu Ming, awkwardly asking, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I’m just surprised that the Young Master Xiao Xi trusts me so much that he’d be willing to share such things from his past.”

Zhu Ming snapped out of his daze and downed the glass in one go. Though the bitterness made him scrunch his brows, he covered his mouth and laughed. “What, you’re not afraid I’ll turn around and tell someone else?”

Xi Xianqing glanced at him, “I know you won’t say anything.”

Zhu Ming’s heart stirred silently.

In the next second, he saw the person in front of him turn his head away, his jaw arrogantly lifted. “Because if you dare to say anything, I’ll tell your aunt that we’re only in a marriage of convenience.”

“…This vengeful streak of yours clearly started when you were a kid ah.”

Zhu Ming sighed. “Alright, it’s your turn to ask, but we should pick up the pace—there’s still a lot of drinks left.”

Xi Xianqing let out a “hmm”.

His fingertips traced the edge of a lime slice. After a brief pause, he asked, “Are you ever resentful… about the life you have now?”

Zhu Ming clutched his chest in an exaggerated motion as if spitting blood. “Young Master Xi, your question is brutally direct ah.”

Xi Xianqing’s face darkened. “You’re the one who said I could ask anything.”

“Honestly, I’ve always had only two requirements for my life.”

Zhu Ming smiled and held up two fingers. “One, I want to do what I love. Two, I don’t want my existence to burden others.”

“So my answer is, yes, I was bitter at first. But now, I’m content.”

He said briskly, “In the game, we have control over all our choices. But in reality, when you reach the top, some choices aren’t just yours to make anymore.”

“Because when people have expectations of you, it’s not just about what you want—it’s about your team. Like what kind of research has the best chance of being published in top journals, or which projects give you an edge in competing for chief positions… The higher you go, the further you drift from your original goal of ‘just wanting to help others.’”

Zhu Ming paused and then chuckled. “Maybe the car accident was the heavens’ way of forcing me to rethink my life and find my original intention.”

“When I was in the research institute, I barely ever took a day off. But now, after nearly six months of knowing you, I’ve practically toured all of Xi Star. I’ve even seen many rare clinical cases with my own eyes.”

Zhu Ming smiled. “The me before the accident was living the life of ‘a smart person from District Seven.’ But the me now is living a life that belongs to myself.”

“So, Xi Xianqing, even if you really are the most difficult, most uncooperative patient I’ve ever met in my life…” He sighed and then playfully winked. “I still want to say thank you for hiring me as your personal doctor.”

When Xi Xianqing heard the word “difficult,” he seemed ready to retort.

However, after hearing the entire sentence, his Adam’s apple moved slightly.

A game notification appeared.

A cold, mechanical female voice sounded: “You have been in the game for two hours and forty minutes. Anti-addiction system reminder: Please complete your current choice as soon as possible and save your progress.”

“It seems like we don’t have time to continue exchanging life philosophies. Let’s get this over with—half and half, straight up.”

Zhu Ming said, pushing the remaining drinks toward Xi Xianqing. “It just so happens that in reality, my medicine should’ve reacted about now.”

He leisurely picked up a glass and brought it to his lips. “Time to head back to the real world, sit in my wheelchair, and get back to work—”

His wrist was suddenly clasped by a large hand.

“If you truly… want me to cooperate to verify that theory with you,” Xi Xianqing said, not meeting Zhu Ming’s gaze, his jaw seemingly clenched slightly, “then I’ll test it again. It’s not impossible.”

Zhu Ming froze.

He glanced at the NPC smiling faintly beside him, then at Dish Soap standing on the bar. “You’re saying, you now want to…”

Xi Xianqing was silent for a long time and nodded.

Zhu Ming was momentarily stunned, a peculiar feeling stirring in his chest.

From a medical perspective, he should be encouraging Xi Xianqing to try. Yet, in that brief instant, he found himself puzzled at how he felt inexplicably conflicted.

After a pause, he smiled and nodded. “It’s certainly feasible. After all, NPCs are just strings of code. There’s no need to overthink it—”

“The task says to kiss anyone present. That can include NPCs,” Xi Xianqing interrupted him without looking at his face.

He emphasized the word “can.”

Zhu Ming didn’t immediately catch on.

Xi Xianqing turned to face him, his deep green eyes resembling jade with a deep luster, “But it doesn’t say it only includes the NPCs, does it?”

---

Author’s note:

Little Fox’s brain is down ^_^

“This game is quite impressive.”

Zhu Ming first tried running a couple of steps, then did a few squats, and finally kicked wildly in the air. “This kind of fully immersive interactive experience as well as the complete restoration of bodily functions go beyond what mere coding can achieve.”

“Even as an early stage work, its art style is already very mature.”

Xi Xianqing observed the detailed textures on the streetlights and nodded. “It is indeed a work that deserves the position of representative.”

A crisp “ding-dong” notification sounded in their ears.

“Welcome, both of you, to <Choices>. You will embark on an interesting journey together in the virtual world of District Four.”

A gentle electronic female voice spoke in their ears, “In this game, all you need to do is keep making choices. The only requirement is that you and your partner must make the same choices.”

Zhu Ming processed the words in his mind for a moment. “She seems to have said something critical, but I think I missed the point.”

“No need to worry. Once the game officially begins, you two will understand what I mean.”

As if guessing the players’ concerns, the electronic female voice continued to explain, “This game consists of 30 choices. Completing all of them counts as clearing the game.”

“If the two players struggle to reach a consensus and fail to make the final choice, you can opt to forfeit through the menu and enter the open-world mode as failed participants to enjoy the street scenery of District Four.”

The female voice softly said, “Now, let’s proceed to the first question.”

With a ding-dong, the first question appeared directly in front of them as floating text.

[First Choice]: You are about to go to a restaurant for a meal. Do you choose to [A] Walk or [B] Take a taxi?

Both of them were stunned.

Xi Xianqing frowned. “…This is considered a game?”

As soon as the words fell, a taxi smoothly stopped beside them.

At the same time, a bright yellow highlighted arrow appeared on the ground, guiding the walking route they needed to take.

“Hmm, so far it looks like a simple interactive game.”

Zhu Ming’s interest was piqued. “But the setup is so cryptic. First, it doesn’t say what kind of restaurant it is, and second, it doesn’t mention how far it is from where we are.”

Xi Xianqing gave a rare “en” of approval. “Walk or take the car?”

“Let’s choose walking. Try a few steps first.”

Zhu Ming lifted his leg, eager to give it a go. “It’s mainly because it’s been too long since I’ve experienced what it’s like to have my feet on the ground, so let me experience this precious time a little more.”

Xi Xianqing had no objections.

Following the highlighted guide, they walked for ten minutes.

At first, they had fun taking in the street scenery, but as they walked from the main road to an alley and then back to another busy street, the so-called restaurant was nowhere in sight.

“Wait… are we even playing this game right ah?”

The novelty of walking on solid ground had completely worn off. Zhu Ming was slightly out of breath. “The highlight hasn’t disappeared this whole time. Are we just supposed to keep walking endlessly?”

Before he could finish, his legs suddenly felt like they were trapped in quicksand, and his knees became weak.

Zhu Ming initially thought that it was because his legs hadn’t been used for too long, so he hadn’t adapted to it.

Then a blinding white light flashed before him, forcing his eyes shut. In the next moment, an intense sensation of free fall swept over his body.

When he reopened his eyes, the surroundings had changed entirely.

The weightlessness left Zhu Ming momentarily dizzy, but when he finally came to, he looked down and realized… he was sitting on a small wooden stool.

Bewildered, he raised his eyes and realized that Xi Xianqing was sitting across from him and seemed to have just recovered as well.

Surveying their surroundings, Zhu Ming noted that they were in a small restaurant—though it wasn’t one of those tiny yet tidy stores like Ji Rong’s place. Instead, the tables and floors were so greasy they could almost serve as mirrors, giving the place an unmistakable aura of filth and poor hygiene.

Xi Xianqing immediately frowned. He moved his arms off the table, inspected his sleeves to ensure they hadn’t been stained with oil, and only then did his expression relax slightly.

“It seems we’ve cleared the first stage,” he said to Zhu Ming.

Zhu Ming nodded. “The tutorial stage seems pretty simple.”

No sooner had he spoken than an NPC waitress with braided pigtails approached, carrying a tray.

She wore a bright, cheerful smile as she briskly placed two plates of food on the table. “Here are the extra-spicy stinky tofu and the braised intestine in brown sauce you two ordered. Enjoy.”

With a ding-dong sound, the second question promptly popped up: “[Second Choice]: You are in a restaurant. Choose: [A] Eat an entire serving of Braised Intestines in Brown Sauce or [B] Eat an entire serving of Extra-Spicy Stinky Tofu.”

“[Reminder]: Neither player may eat the dish alone. Both players must agree and finish it together for the stage to be cleared.”

Xi Xianqing: “…?”

Zhu Ming: “…Okay, I may have spoken too soon.”

“Don’t rush first.”

Zhu Ming picked up his chopsticks, dipped them into the sauce of the extra-spicy stinky tofu, and tentatively stuck out his tongue to taste it. “Maybe we don’t have taste receptors in this game… Cough, cough, cough. My god. What kind of joke is this spiciness?”

Xi Xianqing crossed his arms and watched coldly.

Zhu Ming tried to communicate with the NPC waitress. “Uh, do you have any other dishes?”

The waitress stared at him in silence for a few seconds before turning and walking back to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, she returned with identical plates of food, wearing the same smile as before, and repeated the same line verbatim: “Here are the extra-spicy stinky tofu and the braised intestine in brown sauce you two ordered. Enjoy.”

Xi Xianqing: “…”

Zhu Ming stared at the four identical plates on the table, as if copy-pasted. “Hmm, seems like a very basic NPC with a simple underlying code.”

While Zhu Ming was hesitating which dish might be slightly easier to swallow, when he raised his eyes, he noticed Xi Xianqing lifting his hand, navigating through the floating game menu.

He was very curious. “What are you doing?”

Xi Xianqing replied flatly, “Looking for the exit button.”

“Mr. Xiao Xi, are you giving up so easily? Where’s your bottom line? Where’s your gaming spirit?”

Zhu Ming was at a loss for words. “Alright, let’s go with the spicy stinky tofu. There are four pieces… I’ll take three, you just need to eat one. I can even remove the chili on top for you. Is that enough?”

Xi Xianqing lifted his chin. “I don’t eat spicy food.”

Zhu Ming turned his chopsticks toward the other plate. “Then let’s try the braised intestine in brown sauce. Just one bite, and we win—”

With his arms crossed, Xi Xianqing responded even more concisely this time: “Dirty.”

“I don’t think this game will provide any meaningful assessment,” he remarked coldly as he scrolled through the menu. “I’m going to sleep.”

Just as Xi Xianqing’s fingertip hovered over the “Exit Game” button, he heard the person across from him let out a faint sigh.

“It’s just that… I rarely get the chance to walk like this.”

Looking up, he saw the other person’s eyelashes tremble slightly, and the corners of Zhu Ming’s mouth curved into a wistful smile. “Even if it’s only in a virtual world, I’m already very content.”

“I just really want to see the later stages, to walk… even just a little while longer,” he murmured.

Xi Xianqing’s expression flickered and opened his mouth.

Zhu Ming rested his chin in one hand, while the pointed chin of the white fox on his lap pitifully leaned against the edge of the table, its tail faintly brushing against Xi Xianqing’s arm.

“Think rationally. Everything in the game is just lines of code; it won’t really end up in your stomach,” Zhu Ming blinked. “Life is about experiences, isn’t it?”

Xi Xianqing didn’t say anything.

Zhu Ming let out a soft sigh. “Fine, forcing someone to eat something they dislike is indeed immoral. I’ll just ask Nova later if I can take this game disk home. I—”

Xi Xianqing, with a darkened expression, snapped, “Enough, I’ll eat, alright?”

Zhu Ming immediately performed a face change.

Smiling brightly, he quickly ate two pieces of tofu. Then, with one piece still in his mouth, he scr4p3d the chili pepper off the last remaining piece on the plate, pushed it in front of Xi Xianqing, and mumbled, “…Enjoy.”

Xi Xianqing expressionlessly exhaled a breath, held the chopsticks, picked it up, and examined it.

–Finally, he hesitantly took a bite.

The bizarre combination of stinky odor, spiciness, and the aroma of tofu exploded in his mouth. His pupils dilated.

By his feet, Dish Soap’s eyes widened into little beads as its neck recoiled from the spice, its body trembling slightly before slowly curling up into a ball by the corner of the table.

Fortunately, in the next instant, a white halo slowly lit up inside the room, and the familiar sensation of weightlessness swept over them once more—

They had arrived at the third stage.

Without giving them any time to recover, the question popped up abruptly: [Third Choice]: You are vacationing at a resort in District Two. You want to try one of the featured activities: [A] Bungee jumping in the mountains or [B] Diving by the sea.

Zhu Ming silently stared at the bungee jumping platform before him, then shifted his gaze to the distant beach.

He appeared calm, but the white fox at his feet was trembling silently. “I think you were absolutely right earlier. This game is pointless. Let’s quit now.”

Xi Xianqing, with a composed expression, grabbed his arm. “It’s just a string of code. Life is about experiences, isn’t it?”

Zhu Ming: “…”

Half an hour later, Xi Xianqing, still composed as ever, helped a nearly lifeless Zhu Ming down from the bungee platform.

[Fourth Choice]: You are spending the weekend at a mall. Would you choose: [A] To claw ten identical plush toys or [B] To sing the same song ten times at a KTV?

An enthusiastic Zhu Ming dragged a black-faced Xi Xianqing along as they clawed ten identical blue jellyfish plushies.

[Fifth Choice]: You are on a date at an amusement park. Would you choose the: [A] Roller Coaster or [B] Haunted House?

20 minutes later, an unruffled Xi Xianqing and a pale-faced Zhu Ming emerged from the roller coaster exit.

Absurd teleports and ridiculous choices—if the two players happened to share similar personalities and interests, things would’ve been easier.

-However, they were the type of players whose personalities differed greatly, who had no tacit understanding, and who were used to going against each other’s wishes.

Thus, every decision was preceded by a lengthy period of arguments and compromises.

But they have to admit: this game was really fun.

The further they progressed, the higher the sunk costs of their efforts, making them increasingly reluctant to quit.

Even as the choices grew more challenging, they couldn’t help gritting their teeth and pushing forward.

It was both thrilling and torturous. But since absolute safety was guaranteed within the game, they tried activities that pushed their physical limits, making choices they would never dare to in real life.

By the sixteenth stage, they found themselves inside a stark white room.

There is only a table with two black boxes on it. As expected, the task was a blind box selection. One of them has to decide which one of them will reach into a box and then choose: [A]. Reach into the left box or [B]. Reach into the right box.

Rock-paper-scissors, Xi Xianqing lost and had to choose the one on the right.

—Only to feel something slimy and sticky, with an unsettlingly ambiguous yellowish consistency.

Zhu Ming first let out a shocking burst of laughter.

But before Xi Xianqing could explode in anger, Zhu Ming swiftly adjusted his expression and changed the subject. “Wait, this stinky smell mixed with sweetness… isn’t this durian jam?”

Xi Xianqing stared blankly at his palm for a few seconds, then raised his hand and directly smeared the jam onto Zhu Ming’s face.

Zhu Ming incredulously wiped his face, “How old are you?”

Turning his face away with a cold snort, Xi Xianqing pinched his fingers together. “It’s just code.”

Zhu Ming stayed silent for a moment before suddenly grabbing Xi Xianqing’s left hand, attempting to wipe the durian jam from his face onto his sleeve.

Xi Xianqing was startled, his palm against Zhu Ming’s face to stop him but he relentlessly tried to get closer,. As they tussled in disarray, their eyes met, and their hearts seemed to skip a beat at the same time.

For a brief moment, they both froze. Zhu Ming was the first to step back, and after a pause, Xi Xianqing let go as well. The white light flashed, and the familiar weightless sensation returned—

They arrived at the seventeenth stage.

Stumbling their way through, they were now halfway through the game.

This time, they were transported to a serene lounge bar.

The ambiance and design of this stage were dialed to perfection: the bar was softly lit, the window revealed a drizzly twilight, and the rhythmic patter of the rain blended harmoniously with soothing jazz music and the crisp clink of glasses by the bar counter—a scene so cozy and gentle, it made even their spirits relax.

Looking down, they realized they had been transported to high stools by the bar counter.

A handsome young waiter approached them.

His eyes were as blue as seawater, and the tray in his hands was filled with a full plate of shots and a small dish of lemon wedges. “The drinks you ordered. Please enjoy.”

The two, who felt a sense of familiarity with this script: “…”

Before they could react, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, gentle woman NPC in a backless floor-length gown also approached. She gracefully sat down beside Zhu Ming, exuding charm.

She held a silver engraved lighter and lit the full tray of shots. The blue and orange flames flickered gently, creating an ambiguous and soft glow.

Having grown accustomed to the routines of this game, Xi Xianqing and Zhu Ming increasingly felt that something was off: “…”

After eating a plate of extra-spicy stinky tofu and then being faced with a row of shots, it seemed like this game was deliberately challenging people’s stomachs.

Zhu Ming stared at the NPC for a moment, muttering, “Don’t you think that, compared to the previous NPCs we encountered, these two… are unusually attractive?”

Xi Xianqing didn’t speak but didn’t deny it either.

Because the facial models of these two NPCs were indeed excessively refined. Even the fine hair and capillaries on their skin were visible, and their features were exquisitely designed to fit public’s aesthetics.

The two said nothing, only smiling and quietly standing beside them.

A strange and ominous feeling loomed over their hearts. Xi Xianqing stared at the row of burning shots. “Let’s wait for the question refresh and see what the choices are.”

“Maybe it’s a diversion tactic.”

Zhu Ming analyzed logically. “They want us to assume we have to pick one of the shots to drink, but maybe the ultimate task is just to eat two pieces of popcorn…”

Ding-dong, the sound of the question refresh notification rang out.

They looked up together at the floating text illuminated in front of them.

[Seventeenth Choice]: You decide to play a little dangerous game. You choose—

[A.] Both players drink all the alcohol in front of you.

[B.] At least one player kisses anyone present (can include any NPC in the room).

---

Author’s note:

Who will it be? How are you going to choose?

Thank you so much, Yartizt, for the ko-fi! :blobaww:

---

If Zhu Ming hadn’t mistaken, the two people before him were Nova and Ye Lu—or rather, as the outside world knew them, the deeply affectionate couple of many years and current leaders of LotusX: Feng Jiachi and Tan Yu.

However, if not for the fact that their faces matched perfectly with the company poster downstairs, Zhu Ming might have thought he’d stumbled into an underground fight club.

Compared to the elementary-level arguments and cold wars between him and Xi Xianqing, the couple… in front of him seemed genuinely intent on killing each other.

“Divorce, right?”

Feng Jiachi, utterly furious, grabbed a book thicker than a dictionary and hurled it against the wall as though the act would enhance his imposing aura. “Don’t think that just because you say that word, I’ll back down! Fine, divorce it is—what, you think I’m scared of you!?”

Tan Yu’s build wasn’t as robust as Feng Jiachi’s, his physical strength clearly at a disadvantage.

However, he was evidently much better at verbal assaults, retorting with cold, labored breaths, “Good. I hope you can stand by your words.”

Feng Jiachi, enraged to the point of laughing, said, “Don’t you worry, I’m absolutely going through with it this time! Whoever doesn’t is a son of a bi—”

He was the living embodiment of “overcome with rage”—yelling as he picked up the glass ornament on the table, clearly intent on making it greet the wall.

Tan Yu bit his lip, silently clenching the wooden table lamp beside him.

When the conflict involved books and folders, it could still be written off as a domestic matter, one Zhu Ming felt it inappropriate to meddle in.

But with glass and wooden objects now in play, the situation escalated to potential criminal case. Zhu Ming decided he could no longer stand idly by.

Taking a deep breath, he was about to speak when the person next to him suddenly broke the silence—

“President Tan, President Feng, if you don’t want me to call the police, then put down what’s in your hands. Now.”

Xi Xianqing covered the back of his hand, his expression icy as he said, “The public backlash your company might face after a police report—please weigh it carefully, both of you.”

The two figures in the distance froze momentarily, finally turning their heads.

It was only then they noticed the two individuals at the elevator entrance, and immediately remembered that an exceptionally important meeting was scheduled. Xi Xianqing’s status was far from ordinary; the headquarters of LotusX had been built from a design generously gifted by Old Master Xi Jianfeng over a decade ago, and the ties between the two districts had always been close.

“Enough, Feng Jiachi, stop losing your composure in front of outsiders.”

Tan Yu weakly set down the table lamp, the Maine cat turned away with an expression of disdain. “You might not care about losing face, but I do.”

Feng Jiachi was instantly enraged by this remark. The Tibetan mastiff at his feet bared its teeth fiercely in response. “Who are you calling shameless? Why should things end just because you said so! I—”

“Enough.”

Seeing that Xi Xianqing’s elegant and refined threat of calling the police had little effect, Zhu Ming took a deep breath and cut to the chase. “President Feng, if the wound on the inside of your lip isn’t treated promptly, it will become infected and ulcerated. Chewing food for the next month will be a major problem.”

He then pointed to the purplish bruise on Tan Yu’s forehead. “President Tan, if that forehead wound isn’t treated, you’ll need stitches, it’ll scar, and it will ruin your appearance. The consequences are far-reaching.”

The two, who had been engaged in a fierce confrontation moments ago, both visibly paled at his words.

Indeed, for people who had been in a high position for many years, concerns about personal health often trump public relations crises, which could be smoothed over with money.

Zhu Ming twirled his finger in the air before pointing it at Xi Xianqing. “And as for you—”

His gaze landed on the fresh red scratch marks on the back of Xi Xianqing’s hand. For a moment, Zhu Ming felt a pounding headache. “Your hand needs immediate attention, too.”

Ten minutes later, Bang Bang returned to the office with a small first-aid kit.

This little gadget was indeed quite useful. Zhu Ming considered whether he should get one for himself and Zhu Yingying.

The most esteemed individuals in Xi Star had all gathered in this small office. Zhu Ming, now acting as a temporary head nurse, meticulously cleaned and dressed the wounds of the three injured parties one by one.

Lowering his voice, he asked Xi Xianqing, “What were you thinking, using your hand to block?”

Xi Xianqing looked out the window. “What were you thinking, using your face to catch it then?”

Zhu Ming expressionlessly tied a neat, beautiful bow. “There, don’t even think about using this hand for the next couple of days.”

Exhaling, he lifted his gaze toward the two people sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, now somewhat calmed down, along with their dog and cat.

In the end, it was Tan Yu who broke the silence first.

“Mr. Xi and Mr. Zhu, I apologize for today’s lack of composure… due to personal matters.”

Tan Yu glanced at Xi Xianqing, his tone polite but distant. “I understand how critical your evaluation is, but I’m afraid today’s meeting cannot proceed as planned. Can we reschedule and meet again next time?”

Feng Jiachi pressed a cotton ball against the corner of his mouth and gruffly added, “Yeah, I’ll have my secretary arrange a new time right away. Let’s make it this week—”

Tan Yu cut him off, “Thursday afternoon works.”

“You’re doing this on purpose, Tan Yu? You know perfectly well I have a magazine shoot that day!”

Feng Jiachi, furious, turned to Xi Xianqing. “I’m free on Friday morning. We can…”

Tan Yu: “I have a meeting Friday morning, so I can’t make it.”

Feng Jiachi nearly exploded. “You—”

Xi Xianqing sighed and calmly but firmly intervened with a cold voice. “I wonder if this Friday afternoon at 3:30 works for the two of you?”

The pair across from him fell silent. After a brief pause, they answered in unison, “…It works.”

On the way back to the hotel, Zhu Ming and Xi Xianqing were both still trying to process what had just happened.

The media’s glowing portrayal of this couple had raised their expectations for the meeting. Neither of them could have guessed that the seemingly perfect, deeply-in-love duo marketed to the public was, behind the scenes, so utterly chaotic and disgraceful.

Still, they didn’t leave empty-handed—out of apology, Tan Yu gifted them the robot named “Bang Bang.”

Hugging the round, bright-yellow robot, Zhu Ming couldn’t help but sigh, “Does marriage eventually become like this?”

Xi Xianqing stared out at the stream of traffic and city lights outside the window, remaining silent.

Noticing his poor expression, Zhu Ming asked, “What’s wrong? Does your hand still hurt?”

Xi Xianqing exhaled. “I was just thinking, if they really do end up divorced… who exactly should my work be designed for? And how should I proceed?”

Zhu Ming pondered this. “…You’ve got a point.”

When they returned to the hotel, Zhu Ming had already grown quite adept at using Bang Bang. After inputting instructions via the light screen, the little yellow robot waddled out of the suite on its round legs, returning shortly with a steaming meal.

After the meal, Zhu Ming re-treated Xi Xianqing’s wound.

“When you shower, make sure not to get it wet.”

Tidying up the first-aid kit, Zhu Ming once again maneuvered his wheelchair into the lab pod in the living room. Poking his head out, he cheerfully said, “Well, goodnight in advance la?”

Xi Xianqing on the sofa: “…?”

He stared at Zhu Ming’s retreating figure for a moment before realizing. “You’re pulling another all-nighter?”

“Yeah ya.” Zhu Ming nodded, giving the same explanation as always: “After all, two months is short. I need to make the most of it—the responsibility is enormous.”

“Responsibility.”

That “responsibility” Xi Xianqing had personally spoken of, the one Zhu Ming was obligated to fulfill.

Xi Xianqing lightly clenched his teeth, and after a long time, said, “You are dedicated enough.”

Zhu Ming looked at him with a slight smile. “You’re too kind. It’s only right.”

Although Xi Xianqing’s injury was to his hand, it was on his insignificant left hand, which theoretically shouldn’t have interfered with his drafting.

Yet, an hour later, his paper remained blank. His inspiration was blocked, and his mind felt utterly muddled.

Tan Yu and Feng Jiachi’s relationship was very clear —they were lovers. Unlike in District Two, where Xi Xianqing had to painstakingly extract details of Shen Ying’s life and key moments to find inspiration, this wasn’t necessary here.

It was evident that they were the most important people in each other’s lives—except it was obvious that nowadays, they had now reached the point of mutual contempt and irreconcilable conflict.

Xi Xianqing exhaled deeply and decided he would wait until after their first formal meeting to start sketching.

He set his pen down, washed up, and lay flat on his bed, attempting to fall asleep, but the feeling of drowsiness eluded him.

The bedroom door was left ajar, revealing a faint flicker of light outside.

In an attempt to lull himself to sleep, he fixed his gaze on that thin strip of white light. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but just as a bit of drowsiness began to settle over him, the glow from the white light abruptly dimmed.

Immediately after, he heard the sound of wheels rolling across the floor.

Xi Xianqing stiffened and instantly shut his eyes.

The sound of the rolling wheels grew closer, eventually stopping just outside his door.

However, the person outside didn’t push the door open. It seemed they hesitated for a moment before the wheelchair’s rolling noise resumed, gradually moving farther away.

Xi Xianqing’s brow furrowed slightly as he opened his eyes.

–

Zhu Ming maneuvered his wheelchair into the guest room.

The bed in the center of the room had been removed and replaced by two brand-new, massive gaming pods. Behind them, a row of bookshelves was fully stocked with stacks of game data discs.

As he examined the titles on the discs, he turned and unexpectedly locked eyes with a pair of emerald-green, calm, and indifferent ones.

Zhu Ming was startled, “You’re not asleep?”

Xi Xianqing, dressed in pajamas and holding a glass of water, appeared as though he had simply woken in the middle of the night and happened to pass by.

He spoke faintly, “What are you doing?”

“The medication effects take four hours. I figured I’d pull an all-nighter.”

Zhu Ming raised his hands and innocently explained, “Just to clarify, I’m not slacking off or goofing around. I’m just trying to pass the time.”

As if being choked, Xi Xianqing exhaled with extreme annoyance. “I was only asking what you were doing. There’s no need to explain so much.”

Zhu Ming let out an “oh”, shrugged his shoulders, and turned away.

“Since I have some time, I thought I’d try out one of District Four’s local specialties.”

He lifted a hand, his finger sliding along the spines of the game discs one by one. “I recall Nova mentioning a game this morning. Let me see if it’s here.”

<Choices>¹This was English in the raw. was the first project our two bosses developed together after officially founding LotusX.”

Standing by the display case earlier, Nova had introduced it as such: “It’s a two-player co-op game. Although it has undergone numerous optimizations and updates, the technology feels slightly raw because it’s such an early work.”

“And if you plan to play it with a close friend or partner, I wouldn’t particularly recommend it.”

Her expression turned slightly subtle. “I still recommend trying other works from our company. For instance, these two are our most recent bestsellers…”

“The more she says it’s not recommended,” Zhu Ming’s finger paused as he pulled a disc from the shelf and examined it with a smile, “the more curious I get. I just have to try it. Want to join me?”

Xi Xianqing refused without surprise. “I’m not interested in games.”

“This is their first work oh.”

Zhu Ming continued to coax, “Highly skilled game developers often love hiding Easter eggs in their projects. Who knows? You might even uncover something from their early days that could inspire you.”

Xi Xianqing didn’t say anything.

Still smiling, Zhu Ming held the game disc up, pressing the edge of the plastic case lightly against Xi Xianqing’s abdomen. “So, how about it? Want to give it a try together?”

This time, Xi Xianqing didn’t immediately reject the idea. He merely glanced at the nearby gaming pod and asked, “Do you know how to use that thing?”

“I don’t,” Zhu Ming admitted, eyes curving into a grin. “But I think a certain little helper might.”

Five minutes later.

“Players, please follow Bang Bang’s instructions and insert the data card into the designated slot.”

The bright yellow, rotund robot stood in the center of the room, rolling to a stop between them. “Then proceed to lie down in the pods one by one.”

As Zhu Ming contemplated how to move from his wheelchair to the bulky gaming pod, a large hand gripped his waist from behind, lifting him with ease—

Startled, Zhu Ming tried to stop him. “It’s fine. I think I can manage on my own—your hand—don’t strain—”

His protest trailed off abruptly, voice hitching mid-sentence. Without giving him a chance to refuse, Xi Xianqing had already placed his other hand beneath Zhu Ming’s knees, skillfully lifting him. With a smooth motion, he set Zhu Ming gently in the center of the gaming pod.

He cast a light glance at Zhu Ming, said nothing, and walked off without looking back.

Zhu Ming: “…Thanks ha.”

Bang Bang’s mechanical voice, polite and cold, announced: “Bang Bang reminds you that this game is a fully immersive, holographic interactive experience. Eight hours in the game equals one hour in the real world.

“According to Xi Star’s anti-addiction system, if your gameplay time exceeds three hours, the system will automatically force you to exit. Please remember to save your progress and enjoy your gaming journey to the fullest oh.”

Zhu Ming couldn’t help but smile. “They even included an anti-addiction system… Looks like they’re pretty confident in their product.”

Following Bang Bang’s instructions, they equipped themselves with the provided gear: a highly sophisticated full-sensory helmet, electrode patches designed to connect with both the skin and brain, and all sorts of strange cables.

As the setup left him looking like a mummy, Xi Xianqing hesitated. “What happens if we don’t wake up?”

Bang Bang seemed to understand human speech: “If players fail to wake up for an extended period, the system will automatically trigger an alert, notifying LotusX headquarters and law enforcement, who will conduct a rescue. Please rest assured.”

“The system has detected that all preparations are complete,” Bang Bang continued. “Please refrain from moving while in the pods and close your eyes.”

After a brief pause, Xi Xianqing finally closed his eyes.

The sound of the gaming pod activating filled the space. Bang Bang’s previously clear electronic voice grew distorted, as though muffled, while the world felt as if it were sucked into a vacuum. A sharp, high-pitched ring stabbed at their eardrums.

When Xi Xianqing opened his eyes again, he found himself standing on a bustling, vibrant street.

He was now in District Four’s city center.

For a moment, he found it difficult to distinguish between reality and illusion. The evening breeze brushing against his skin was cool and refreshing, the honking of car horns crisp, the sun on the edge of the skyline warm, and the actress smiling brightly on the perfume billboard. Everything was so convincingly real.

He lowered his head and saw a green peac0ck with round beady eyes, its head tilted as it curiously peered around.

—Even his spiritual manifestation could synchronize into the game. Xi Xianqing suddenly found himself unnerved by the game’s authenticity and level of technology.

At that moment, glowing text appeared suspended before his eyes.

A cold mechanical female voice echoed in his ear: [Choices: New Player Tutorial will now begin.]

[Choice 0]: Would you like to bring your companion into the game now?

Two glowing options hovered beside him: [A] Yes. or [B] No.

Xi Xianqing’s finger hesitated. His first instinct was to immediately choose A, but he was curious about the result of refusing. What would happen if he selected “No”?

So he did.

The system responded with a beep beep: “Unfortunately, this game only operates in dual-player mode. Please adjust the expression on your face and prepare to welcome your beloved companion on this journey.”

Xi Xianqing: “…”

It was a multiple choice question, but in essence, there was no room for choice.

He selected “A” expressionlessly, thinking Zhu Ming would suddenly appear in front of him.

However, the street remained unchanged. The breeze softly rustled the leaves of the nearby palm trees, and the subtle swishing sound played lightly in his ears.

He sensed something moving near his feet.

Lowering his gaze hesitantly, a fluffy, snow-white tail came into view. Following it upward, Xi Xianqing locked eyes with a white fox, its black, round pupils glinting with a moist luster.

Immediately afterward, he heard a voice in front of him, “Xi Xianqing?”

Lifting his head, he saw Zhu Ming standing on the other side of the road.

Zhu Ming stood in the distance, his expression dazed. He looked down at his own hands and then glanced around, just like how Xi Xianqing had when he first arrived a few minutes ago.

His gaze soon fell on the green peac0ck at Xi Xianqing’s feet. With surprise, he teased, “Yo, Dish Soap can get in here too ah? Is this game’s tech really that advanced?”

Xi Xianqing silently stared at him without saying a word.

Zhu Ming’s smile slightly faded, and he hesitated, “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like you want to eat me?”

Once again, he lowered his head to look at his hands and sleeves. His gaze slid downward and finally landed on his legs.

Then he froze.

Xi Xianqing didn’t say anything for a long time.

He saw Zhu Ming staring at his legs for a long while, his expression neither surprised nor delighted, just blank.

The evening breeze brushed through his hair, sweeping past his brows and nose. Yet, he never lifted his head, only stood quietly in place, staring at his legs.

After who knows how long, he tentatively moved his legs.

It had been so long since he last had the chance to use this part of his body—just as he took his first step, the ground seemed to turn as soft as asphalt, and his knee buckled.

Staggering clumsily forward with unfamiliarity, he took a step, heading toward the traffic ahead.

Although he knew the game couldn’t kill anyone by crashing, Xi Xianqing’s pupils still involuntarily contracted. He quickly crossed the road in a few strides, reached out, and yanked Zhu Ming back to the roadside. “Are you crazy?”

With the help of Xi Xianqing’s arm, Zhu Ming barely managed to steady himself. He lowered his head once more, looking at his legs.

The evening breeze was cool and pleasant, and the gentle glow of the setting sun blanketed the earth.

Zhu Ming’s breathing was slightly uneven. After a long while, he lifted his eyes and looked at Xi Xianqing’s face, smiling faintly and hastily, as if in a daze.

“Now I think I understand why this game needs an anti-addiction system,” he said.

---

Author’s Notes:

Sharing two hellish puns for today:

Q: Why can’t the little fox Zhu Ming stand steadily?

A: Because he’s cunning (slippery feet).²Play on words. The phrase “脚滑” (jiǎo huá) means “slippery feet” or “unstable footing.” However, it sounds very similar to “狡猾” (jiǎo huá), which means “cunning” or “sly.” It also combines the literal idea of the little fox  having slippery feet and it being cunning.

Q: Why can’t Xi Xianqing work as a restaurant waiter?

A: ____ The correct answer will be pinned in the comments ^_^

A: Because he can’t open a screen(bottle).³Similarly, both words sound the same. The pun is based on 开屏 (kāi píng), which means “to open a screen” and refers to peac0cks spreading their tails while 开瓶” (kāi píng) means “to open a bottle.” The joke implies that XQ can’t do waiter’s tasks of opening bottles.

At 8:03 PM Xi Star time, in the brightly lit city center of District Four, inside the top-floor suite of a luxury hotel, the future representative of District Six and the former top candidate of District Seven were locked in an intense argument.

The primary subject of their dispute was… who would get to sleep on the suite’s only king-sized bed.

“Mr. Xiao Xi, could you please be reasonable?”

Zhu Ming maneuvered his wheelchair to the side of the bed, staking out his territory. “You were the one who told Nova we didn’t need a guest room. So why should I be the one to end up on the couch?”

Standing on the other side of the bed with arms crossed, Xi Xianqing’s expression stiffened slightly. He snorted coldly. “I only said that because I was worried she might pull the same trick as Li Shun in District Two… How could I have guessed that she’d just ask someone to move the bed away?”

Zhu Ming clicked his tongue and played his trump card, “I’m disabled, okay? Do you really have the heart to take the bed for yourself and leave someone with limited mobility like me on the couch?”

Xi Xianqing glanced at him, clearly unimpressed. “Sometimes, your wheelchair moves faster than I can run.”

The truth was, the luxurious bed in front of them was absurdly large. Not only could the two of them sleep on it comfortably, but there would also be enough room for their spiritual manifestations to join in—and even Zhou Zhou as well.

But the current tension between them was so delicate that neither wanted to be the first to broach the idea of sharing the bed.

So they remained locked in a standoff, unsure of how long it lasted, until Xi Xianqing heard Zhu Ming let out what sounded like a soft sigh. “Forget it.”

Xi Xianqing’s body froze slightly.

“You’re right, your assessment is more important.”

When he raised his eyes, he saw Zhu Ming slowly pull out one of the pillows from the bedside, resting it on his lap as he muttered, “Let Dish Soap out for another check-up, and then I’ll head to the living room. I won’t disturb your peaceful night.”

Xi Xianqing was momentarily stunned.

It was as if, just a second ago, the two of them were locked in an intense tug-of-war, neither willing to give an inch.

Then, all at once, one side let go, abandoning the fight entirely, leaving the other holding onto the rope and stumbling backward in confusion, unintentionally declared the victor.

This made the victor not feel the slightest bit satisfied.

By this point, Zhu Ming, who had ceded his claim to the bed, had turned away and was rummaging through the wardrobe.

He casually pulled out a blanket and examined it, apparently deciding whether it would suffice as a makeshift cover. But in the next instant, one corner of the blanket was unexpectedly tugged by a hand.

“Your leg has only just started to show some improvement.”

As he turned and met his gaze, he saw Xi Xianqing release his hand, his eyes awkwardly shifting to the distance. “If something happens later, it’ll probably be blamed on me again… You take the bed.”

The two men’s hands tugged at the ends of the blanket.

Zhu Ming quietly observed Xi Xianqing’s profile for two seconds, then suddenly chuckled softly.

Xi Xianqing’s well-meaning concession was met with this inexplicable response, and he immediately became both angry and embarrassed, glaring at him. “What’s so funny?”

Zhu Ming only shook his head and then softly asked, “Save the file?”

Xi Xianqing stiffened for a moment.

After a moment, his jaw slightly lifted, and seemed as if he was reluctant to utter those two words. “Go ahead.”

Half an hour later, they were covered with a blanket and lay there back-to-back on opposite sides of the large bed.

Xi Xianqing, having just finished freshening up and preparing to close his eyes, felt the blanket being slowly pulled from behind, followed by a sharp tug—

Half of his body was suddenly exposed to the air.

“…Zhu Ming.” Xi Xianqing took a deep breath and opened his eyes. “Can you stop pulling the blanket over to your side all the time?”

“Can’t.” Behind him, Zhu Ming was reading his final paper for the night on the light screen. Hearing this, he snuggled deeper into the blanket, refusing to compromise. “I’m cold. Why don’t you just move over a bit?”

Xi Xianqing growled impatiently. “Why should I move over? Why don’t you?”

“How about we compromise?” Zhu Ming sighed. “Instead of sleeping back-to-back, we sleep facing each other. That way, the blanket can be used a little bit more.”

Xi Xianqing grudgingly agreed. “…Fine.”

In fact, they had planned to request another blanket from the hotel. It would only take a quick operation on the light screen above the little robot, no conversation required, and the order would be sent directly to the front desk.

But just as Xi Xianqing was about to click the “Confirm” button, Zhu Ming suddenly pressed his hand. “Wait a moment.”

Xi Xianqing looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

“There is one thing I want to confirm.”

Zhu Ming pressed his lips together, his expression tinged with hesitation. “I’m not entirely sure about this ha, but for newlyweds in the eyes of others… is it normal for them to sleep under the same blanket?”

Xi Xianqing: “…”

Both of them were top performers in their respective fields, but when it came to one thing, they were equally inexperienced—they were both getting married for the first time.

So, they ended up looking it up online.

There were many different opinions online, but most comments suggested that young couples and newlyweds, swept up in passion, usually shared a single blanket. However, for those married for over a decade, as feelings dulled and they began to grow weary of each other, separate blankets became the norm.

It was an utterly trivial detail, but Xi Xianqing knew Zhu Ming wasn’t being overly cautious.

The moment they issued the “request blanket” command, it would leave a trace in the robot and hotel systems—a detail any curious person could dig up.

Ever since the “separate bedrooms” incident at the reception, they had entered a state of hyper-vigilance as if they were walking on thin ice.

So to be on the safe side, they ended up sharing a single blanket that night.

They turned over at the same time, ending up face to face on the bed.

The room was quiet. Xi Xianqing lifted his eyelids and stealthily glanced at the person opposite him.

Zhu Ming, dressed in pajamas, was curled up in the blanket, clutching a light screen.

Soft strands of hair barely veiled his brow and eyes. He stared intently at the study on the screen, his fingers continuously swiping, his expression wholly absorbed.

Xi Xianqing closed his eyes again after a long time, forcing himself to sleep.

After an unknown amount of time, through a foggy haze, he noticed the pulling sensation on the other end of the blanket abruptly vanished.

Xi Xianqing was a light sleeper, and soon after, he heard the faint rustling of movement and the subtle sound of wheelchair tires brushing against the floor.

Opening his eyes, he saw Zhu Ming propping himself up with his hands, quietly shifting to the wheelchair at the edge of the bed.

Xi Xianqing froze. “You… where are you going?”

Zhu Ming also seemed startled, turning his head to look at him. “Did I wake you?”

“I came across an interesting target in the study—an idea suddenly struck me. Maybe we can try it on Dish Soap.”

As he spoke, Zhu Ming put on his coat. “I plan to check the lab pod now to see if we have enough reagents. If not, I’ll have to order some from a biotech company in District Seven.”

“…Now?” Xi Xianqing’s gaze fell on the clock displaying “2:35 AM.” He asked incredulously, “You’re going to the lab pod?”

“Yes.” Zhu Ming lowered his head to scrutinize the study again. “If we have enough materials, I can prepare the medicine tonight. Including reaction time, I could probably start trials with you by tomorrow evening.”

He said nothing about Dish Soap’s previous display nor mentioned the kiss that might have triggered it.

He perfectly archived that memory, adhering to their agreement. From the perspective of a doctor—or more precisely, a pharmacist—he devoted himself to finding a method to trigger Xi Xianqing’s display.

For a moment, Xi Xianqing felt stuffy in his chest, yet he couldn’t find the words to argue. “Do you really have to work at this hour? Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“No.” Zhu Ming lifted his eyes from the document and replied bluntly, “Two months may sound like a long time, but it’ll pass in the blink of an eye.”

“I need to prepare ahead of time for your next group photo ah.”

It almost sounded like a sigh when Zhu Ming, in a jesting tone, teased, “After all, I don’t have the energy to pry Dish Soap’s feathers open by hand this time.”

“I think I’ll spend the night in the lab pod, so you can keep the blanket all to yourself.” Zhu Ming smiled at Xi Xianqing. “Well then, good night.”

Before Xi Xianqing could respond, Zhu Ming maneuvered his wheelchair out of the room, leaving a carefree and relaxed silhouette behind.

Only a “click” could be heard as the bedroom door was gently closed.

Xi Xianqing sat on the bed, staring at the firmly shut door, unable to speak for a long time.

Eight hours later, at the LotusX Technologies headquarters.

“The two bosses are still in a meeting, so I’ll give you a brief introduction to our company’s layout and main projects.”

Nova, still in “professional mode,” scanned the main door with her badge. “I’ll start with an overview of the company’s layout and core initiatives.”

“The headquarters is located in the central area of District Four, with several branches distributed across other districts.”

The owl perched on her shoulder had a serious expression as she calmly introduced, “This is our company’s corporate culture exhibit wall, which primarily details the timeline and history of LotusX’s establishment.”

As if suddenly remembering something, Nova raised her head, a barely perceptible trace of hope in her eyes. “Oh, by the way, did you happen to try out our new gaming pod yesterday?”

Xi Xianqing glanced at the person next to him, slumped in a wheelchair, yawning incessantly and on the verge of dozing off. With a blank expression, he replied, “…We haven’t had the chance yet. We’ll try it in the future.”

Nova’s sales pitch was unsuccessful, and a hint of regret showed on her face, but she maintained her professional demeanor. “I see ah.”

On the wheelchair, the half-asleep Zhu Ming rubbed his eyes and finally returned to the real world.

Still bleary-eyed, he stared at the corporate culture wall for a while before commenting thoughtfully, “So, both of your company’s founders weren’t originally from District Four?”

“That’s correct. It’s quite the coincidence, actually—like you two. President Feng comes from District Six with a background in illustration and design, while President Tan hails from District Seven with a computer science background. The two of them also met through gaming in their early years,” Nova answered.

Zhu Ming couldn’t help but sigh. “It seems District Four is quite a diverse place.”

“After all, the pursuit of enjoyment knows no boundaries.”

Nova gestured toward the showcase filled with game-related memorabilia, her voice unconsciously softening. “From a simple game disc in their early days of the business to the latest model of the gaming pod, LotusX’s timeline is, in a sense, a testament to the founders’ bond.”

“Doing the math, it’s been nearly ten years now,” she lamented. “They’ve truly dedicated their youth to LotusX.”

Leading them into the lounge, she glanced at her smartwatch as its screen lit up. “The meeting should wrap up in about thirty minutes. You can explore or rest here for the time being.”

“This is Bang Bang. You can order drinks or snacks through the screen on its body.”

She pointed to a lemon-yellow, round robot on the ground and entered some commands. “After 30 minutes, Bang Bang’s alarm will ring automatically and guide you to the elevator.”

Bang Bang turned to them and said, “Bang Bang is happy to serve you.”

Nova closed the door to the lounge.

Zhu Ming, intrigued, swiped at the screen on Bang Bang’s face. “This little guy is pretty amusing… I think I’ll have an iced Americano to wake myself up. Want one?”

Sitting on the other end of the sofa, Xi Xianqing leafed through a brochure on the table and replied coolly, “With those dark circles under your eyes, I doubt a single cup of coffee will be enough to save you.”

Zhu Ming pretended not to hear as he entered the command. Bang Bang let out a “ding,” rolled steadily to a corner of the lounge, and began preparing coffee.

The sound of the machine buzzed, and a few minutes later, Bang Bang rolled back to Zhu Ming with a freshly made iced Americano. “Bang Bang reminds you, your iced Americano is ready!”

“I suggest you hold off on arguing with me. I stayed up late last night making your medicine.”

Zhu Ming picked up the iced Americano, took a sip, and immediately scrunched up his face in response to the bitterness. “If Aunt Ye hadn’t persuaded me to come, I honestly wouldn’t have had the energy to sit here and play along with you.”

Xi Xianqing paused for a moment. “Aunt Ye?”

“Yeah, she said it was a good opportunity to project the image of a couple married for years, and let’s not forget we’re at least pretending to be lovebirds.”

Zhu Ming tried another sip, shivering again from the bitterness. “She said if I came along and played my part in presenting a happily married façade, it might help boost your impression score and even spark some productive conversations.”

Xi Xianqing’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “You sure give her a lot of credit.”

Zhu Ming replied casually, following his words. “Well, as long as you know it’s for her, not for you.”

Xi Xianqing: “…”

The two sat on opposite ends of the sofa, Zhu Ming grimacing through sips of his coffee, while Xi Xianqing stared coldly at the magazine in his hand. Neither spoke further.

Not long after, Bang Bang emitted a few beeping sounds, seemingly receiving a remote command.

The round yellow robot rolled between them. “Bang Bang reminds you, the meeting has concluded. Please follow my guidance to the elevator ahead.”

Entering the elevator, Zhu Ming glanced at the tense figure beside him. “Young Master Xiao Xi, could we ease up on the stiff facial expressions and body language? We’re supposed to be lovers, not enemies.”

Xi Xianqing exhaled, lowering his shoulders.

Zhu Ming studied his face for a moment and smiled faintly. “Don’t be nervous.”

Xi Xianqing glared at him, “I’m not nervous.”

En, as expected—once he’s arguing with me, his expression becomes noticeably more relaxed and natural.

The elevator dinged. Zhu Ming’s lips curled into a faint smile as he said no more, turning his face toward the elevator doors.

The elevator door opened.

Before them lay an expansive office space with a breathtaking view. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the area with natural light, offering a commanding sight of the clustered skyscr4p3rs outside.

However, Zhu Ming barely had a chance to take in the impressive scene when something tore through the air toward them in a rapid arc!

Bang Bang, walking in front of them, was directly hit and fell to the ground with a clatter.

Its round arms and legs lay rigidly on the ground, and it let out a calm “Bang Bang” despite its immobile state.

The thing that hit it was a heavy book.

Zhu Ming instinctively covered his mouth and stretched out a helpless hand. “Bang Bang—”

Xi Xianqing: “…”

The two raised their heads again, and a sharp folder followed.

With Bang Bang already collapsed, there was nothing to shield them. This time, it was aimed straight at Zhu Ming.

Zhu Ming’s pupils contracted. He froze momentarily, barely processing the incoming threat. Even if he had realized, dodging would have been impossible. All he could do was watch the folder fly towards him.

In the next instant, Xi Xianqing’s arm shot out, blocking the folder just in time.

With a muffled sound, the folder fell to the ground, and the white papers inside flew out in the air, scattering spectacularly and filling the ceiling.

Despite its lightweight plastic material, the corners are sharp and clear.

With extremely fast speed of it flying over, Zhu Ming watched as Xi Xianqing’s brows furrowed slightly. He retracted his arm as he silently inspected his hand, lifting it to cradle the back of his palm.

Zhu Ming’s heart sank, “You–”

Xi Xianqing didn’t reply immediately. Raising his injured hand, he revealed a fresh, narrow cut slicing across his hand’s back, a faint line of crimson slowly welling up.

Zhu Ming wordlessly sucked in a mouthful of cold air.

Xi Xianqing’s hands… a jewelry designer’s hands.

If not for Xi Xianqing stepping in, the crimson line now marring his hand… would almost certainly have marked Zhu Ming’s face.

Zhu Ming reached out, gripping Xi Xianqing’s injured hand, his brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, but before the words could leave, another book came hurling through the air. One book after another flew at them, the office devolving into a chaotic battlefield of airborne folders and thick books.

Zhu Ming and Xi Xianqing: “…”

They finally raised their eyes and found the source that threw out these UFOs.

At opposite sides of the office stood two people in suits.

One was tall and powerfully built, his features sharp and unruly, though currently twisted with rage as he gasped heavily and cursed under his breath. Behind him loomed the menacing figure of a snarling Tibetan mastiff, its spiritual manifestation baring its teeth.

The other, lean and composed with strikingly refined features, adjusted his glasses with a controlled expression that belied the person’s labored breathing. Beside him crouched a Maine cat, its ears pinned back in an icy, combative stance, back arched defensively.

One had a broken skin, the other sported a bruised temple. The office floor was in complete disarray, with books and papers strewn across it.

The scene before them wasn’t just a battle—it was an outright war and because there was no way to get off the ground in the office, neither of the combatants seemed to notice Zhu Ming and Xi Xianqing standing there by the elevator.

“Tan Yu! I can’t stand another damn day with you!”

The lanky and tall man swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at the blood streaked across his skin. He was seething with anger. The Tibetan mastiff behind him swishing its tail agitatedly. “In all these years of marriage, was there even once you treated me like an actual human being? The smile you give a beggar on the street has appeared more times than the ones you’ve thrown my way these past few months!”

“Save that nonsense for a chat with my lawyer.”

The temple of the gentleman wearing glasses was bruised as he leaned against the wall. His free hand tugged coldly at his necktie, loosening it as his Maine cat’s pupils glimmered dangerously. “Feng Jiachi, let’s divorce.”

---

Author’s Notes:

The big peac0ck spent the whole night alone guarding an empty bed. His beak may be tough as nails, but when it comes to protecting the little fox, those tiny claws sure come out fast( *｀ω´)！

“Why would I lie to you?” Zhu Ming asked strangely.

Xi Xianqing stared at his face for a few seconds before turning away. “A perfect score on the medical exam, even a top candidate—District Seven’s superstar doesn’t need to deceive people like this.”

“First, I won’t deny those two titles you mentioned.”

Zhu Ming raised his index finger. “But besides that, I wonder if you’ve ever heard a piece of wisdom from District Seven: ‘District Seven people don’t need love; they only need top-tier publications.'”

“What’s more, back then, I nearly became the top representative myself.”

The white fox at his feet flicked its big tail as he sighed softly. “Who has time for anything outside of academics?”

That was also why, when he’d barely pressed his lips down last night, Zhu Ming froze on the spot. He genuinely needed his brain to figure out the next move for a normal couple.

Luckily, he relied on his stellar acting skills to deepen the kiss and save face, but he hadn’t controlled the force, resulting in a “pop” so loud it trended all over Xi Star’s social media.

Once he said this, Xi Xianqing’s face seems to be slightly eased a little.

Xi Xianqing didn’t respond, his gaze shifting to the window. A moment later, he let out a barely audible “Mm.”

At first, Zhu Ming didn’t grasp what that “Mm” meant.

The two sat silently face-to-face for a while. Then, Zhu Ming suddenly lifted his head, realizing that Xi Xianqing might have been answering his initial question. “Was it your first kiss?”

An answer both within and outside his expectations.

Unexpectedly, because given Xi Xianqing’s family background and looks, it was obvious he had no shortage of admirers.

Expected because, with his arrogant and picky nature, Xi Xianqing indeed didn’t seem like someone who’d let others get close easily.

Zhu Ming made an effort to keep his expression calm. “Is that so ah.”

“Now, about Dish Soap’s tail display just now… I have a theory.”

Zhu Ming casually drew a few lines on the light screen. “It may sound absurd, and you might think I’m spouting nonsense, but I hope you can stay calm and hear me out.”

Xi Xianqing’s brow twitched slightly as he lifted his head.

Five minutes later.

“Xi Xianqing, calm down ha.”

Zhu Ming pointed at Xi Xianqing’s face. Both the white fox and the person silently shrank behind the sofa. “I already said, this is just an irresponsible guess on my part…”

“But the problem is, what you’re saying is baseless nonsense.”

As if hearing a wildly absurd joke, Xi Xianqing pointed incredulously at the innocent-looking Dish Soap, who had curled into a ball on the floor. “You’re saying the reason it can’t spread its tail is because I’ve never been in a relationship?”

“If I want to spread its tail, I have to kiss someone?”

His gaze turned to frosty ice, so cold it felt like it might cut into Zhu Ming’s skin. “Zhu Ming, you’re from District Seven’s medical school. Don’t you find what you’re saying utterly ridiculous?”

“Young Master Xiao Xi, could you stop twisting and embellishing my words?”

Zhu Ming bent down, trying to use his sensor-gloved hand to cover Dish Soap’s ears, doing his best to keep the innocent green peac0ck from overhearing their argument. “What I actually said was this: the reason Dish Soap can’t spread its tail might not be due to a pathological defect but rather the result of a psychological abnormality.”

“Perhaps physiological or emotional stimuli could be more effective than medication because fanning a tail to attract mates is an inherent instinct for peac0cks in nature. This process… might apply to spiritual manifestations as well.”

He said, “Such stimuli include kissing but are not limited to it.”

“This could also explain why you’ve never been able to autonomously activate mental spreading of its tail.”

Zhu Ming paused for a second, choosing his words carefully. “Because maybe, physiologically or emotionally, you haven’t had that kind of connection with anyone before…”

Xi Xianqing’s chest rose and fell irritably for a moment. “Do you have any evidence?”

“I don’t. Which is why I said it was just a theory.”

Zhu Ming looked at his face and sighed softly. “But you don’t have any proof to refute me, proving that Dish Soap’s inability to spread its tail isn’t for this reason, do you?”

The living room instantly fell into silence as the two of them remained locked in a standoff.

“Although the precise scientific mechanisms behind all this remain unclear.”

Zhu Ming looked at the medication record on the light screen, muttering to himself as he tried to sort out his thoughts. “If we want to determine who’s right or wrong, this theory is much easier to verify than drugs, and there are no R&D costs. We just need to test it again and let me observe Dish Soap’s—”

Before Zhu Ming could finish speaking, the person beside him interrupted as if squeezing the words through clenched teeth, “What do you mean by test it again?”

Zhu Ming had been distracted earlier, so when he blurted out the words, he hadn’t given them much thought.

Now, as he chewed the words over, only then did he realized as if waking up from a dream. The phrase “test it again” in this context was vastly different from his usual casual remark during testing medicines.

This seemed to mean… Xi Xianqing would need to go for another kiss.

“No, I—”

Zhu Ming, normally quick-witted, found his verbal agility crashing for the first time. “What I mean is… you could think of this as an experiment. After all, you’ll need to kiss someone again to figure out why Dish Soap fanned its tail ah.”

… Nope, it seems to be getting worse.

“First, you casually kissed me in public.”

As if hearing something unbelievable, Xi Xianqing glared angrily at Zhu Ming, his voice hoarse. “And now, to test your so-called ridiculous theory, you’re asking me to go kiss someone else? Is that what you’re saying?”

Zhu Ming frowned, completely unprepared for this person’s interpretation.

“I didn’t say to just find anyone to kiss. I was just—” He stopped abruptly.

No matter how he phrased it, the words felt strange. If he said, “I didn’t tell you to kiss just anyone,” it would sound like he was implying, “You can kiss someone you know.”

That sounded like… he was volunteering himself.

Zhu Ming froze in place.

Seeing that Zhu Ming hadn’t denied it, Xi Xianqing assumed he was tacitly agreeing to the idea of “casually kissing someone.” His face darkened, and his breathing quickened.

“And about last night, I’ve already apologized to you very sincerely.”

Zhu Ming’s mind was a chaotic mess as he rubbed his temples. “If it weren’t for the fact that I had too much to drink and couldn’t think of another solution at the time, I never would’ve done something like that. I really, truly regret it—”

Xi Xianqing’s expression was already grim, but at the mention of “regret,” he sneered coldly. “Did I ever ask you to take it upon yourself to help me?”

Zhu Ming froze, lifting his gaze in disbelief.

“If you regret doing it so much now, that’s your problem.”

Xi Xianqing didn’t look at Zhu Ming, speaking word for word. “I never begged you to get me out of trouble, nor did I force you to do something you found so unwilling.”

Zhu Ming felt like he’d just heard a ridiculous joke. “Xi Xianqing, do you even hear yourself?”

Yes, he had been reckless, and he had apologized for it. But the reason he did it was because he was out of options and genuinely wanted to help.

“Do you have any idea how your relatives talk about you and your sister behind your backs? How they’re constantly scheming to slander you?”

Zhu Ming laughed bitterly. “If I hadn’t been desperate to help prove that the two of us were really married, do you think I’d have rushed to place my mouth—”

“I know, I’ve always known what they said since I was a child.”

Xi Xianqing’s tone was icy. “But you didn’t just do it for me. You did it so we could keep up the charade of this fake marriage and fool your aunt, didn’t you?”

Zhu Ming couldn’t say anything.

“If you regret it so much,” Xi Xianqing’s dark eyes seemed frozen with ice, his tone devoid of any warmth, “then you can act as if nothing happened last night.”

“As for that absurd theory of yours, I have no intention of testing it again nor will I try it.”

He said, “Focus on your research and find a cure for me. That’s the responsibility you’re supposed to bear.”

If earlier Zhu Ming had only felt a misplaced sense of regret for his kindness being unappreciated, now he was so angry he nearly saw black spots in his vision when he heard this.

This problem had been troubling them both for months, and now that a glimmer of hope had appeared, this person suddenly decided to say, “I won’t try.”

Zhu Ming was so furious he laughed. After taking a few deep breaths, he said, “And what if I can’t figure it out? What if, in the end, no medicine works and the only way to make Dish Soap fan its tail is this one method—”

“Can’t figure it out? Then keep trying until you find an effective medication.”

Xi Xianqing said, cutting him off as he looked out the window. “That’s your responsibility in the first place.”

“Fine, fine.” Zhu Ming stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “My responsibility.”

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the distance.

Turning toward the source of the sound, they saw Xi Mufei emerging from the kitchen with a cup of water in her hand, a look of confusion on her face.

Although she couldn’t hear their argument, she sensed the tension in the air. Pressing her lips together, she placed the cup on a nearby table.

She gestured at Xi Xianqing, her expression laced with confussion.

It was a long time before Xi Xianqing raised his hand to reply in sign language, his voice hoarse as he spoke aloud, “We’re not arguing. We’re just… talking.”

Xi Mufei remained silent, her worried gaze shifting between the two of them.

Zhu Ming turned his face away, closed his eyes, and forced a slight smile, adjusting his expression.

They were obviouslys quarreling a second ago, but they pretended to maintain peace in front of Xi Mufei. While their faces could lie, the tension in the room was unmistakable.

Xi Mufei gestured again, her eyes signaling to Xi Xianqing to convey her words to Zhu Ming.

Xi Xianqing stood motionless for half a day.

Xi Mufei frowned and poked Xi Xianqing’s arm, silently urging him not to ignore her.

Xi Xianqing broke the silence, still avoiding Zhu Ming’s gaze. His voice was hoarse as he said, “She’s planning to go out for dinner tonight and wants to know if you’d like to join us.”

Zhu Ming shook his head and tucked the light screen into his bag.

“Please relay my gratitude to your sister for her kindness, but I’m afraid I can’t join you.”

Wheeling himself toward the door, Zhu Ming brushed past Xi Xianqing. “Because I need to get home and work to fulfill the responsibilities I’m supposed to carry.”

Xi Xianqing didn’t say anything.

Zhu Ming tilted his head back and offered Xi Mufei an apologetic smile before steering his wheelchair toward the villa’s front gate.

For the next two weeks, neither reached out to the other.

One lived in District Six and the other in District Seven, neither of them made a move to bridge the gap. It seemed they were prepared to let the stalemate last indefinitely.

True to his word, Zhu Ming efficiently carried out his responsibilities as a doctor.

Every three or four days, Xi Xianqing would receive a cross-district encrypted delivery—a thermally insulated box containing small centrifuge tubes filled with differently colored solutions.

Each thermal box was discreetly placed in a frozen dessert package of varying flavors, resembling an ordinary food delivery to maintain absolute confidentiality.

Inside each delivery was a small note. On the front, Zhu Ming meticulously listed the medication regimen and precautions. On the back, like a fill-in-the-blank form, it read: “Dosage time,” “Observation of fluctuations,” and “Duration of fluctuations.”

—He was instructing Xi Xianqing to monitor and record Dish Soap’s tail feather activity.

Every step was considerate and thorough, leaving no room for criticism.

He just stopped communicating with Xi Xianqing on his own initiative.

This went on for half a month until they were compelled to sit in the same car again for an assessment in District Four, forced to breathe under the same atmosphere.

In the front passenger seat, Ye Lu turned, seeming to say something but hesitates.

The two of them sat on opposite ends of the back seat, both staring out their respective windows, a vast ocean of silence between them, exuding the epitome of estrangement.

Ye Lu cleared her throat lightly. “Xianqing, Xiao Zhu, we’re about to enter District Four. Let’s… pay a bit more attention to how we appear to outsiders ha.”

The two people on the back seat stiffened at the same time.

A few seconds later, they each moved about a centimeter closer to the middle, exchanged an awkward glance, then quickly turned their faces away in sync with a ‘swish’.

Ye Lu: “…”

By the time they reached District Four, it was already 8 p.m. local time.

District Four, known for its fusion of cutting-edge technology and vibrant entertainment, was a dazzling city where neon signs lit up beautifully at dusk. The vivid advertising screens in the plazas, along with the unceasing flow of pedestrians and vehicles, made it a city that never seemed to sleep.

The person receiving them was a representative sent by LotusX headquarters—a young girl with black-rimmed glasses, dressed in a simple white suit, and wearing a silver lotus logo pin on her chest.

The woman stood at the hotel front desk, accompanied by her spiritual manifestation, a white owl perched on her arm. The owl tilted its head, its round eyes quietly observing the outsiders.

She said, “Hello, Mr. Xi, Mr. Zhu. I’m Nova, and I’ll be in charge of arranging all your schedules and accommodations during the assessment.”

The hotel they were staying at was a property under the LotusX Group, located in the most central area of District Four. The decor followed a minimalist yet comfortable modern tech aesthetic, spacious and luxurious.

After some brief pleasantries, Nova calmly asked, “Are you two socially anxious?”

Both were stunned. “…?”

“If you two prefer to avoid excessive interactions with others, we can provide our newly developed home-tour guide robot to explain the room’s amenities.”

She pointed to a small, round, silver robot by her feet, then observed them calmly for a moment. “But since you don’t seem to mind, I’ll take care of the introduction. First of all, on behalf of the entire LotusX team, congratulations on your marriage.”

Her tone was so devoid of inflection that one couldn’t help but wonder if she herself was the robot she mentioned.

Nova was a capable and calm person.

She briskly introduced the layout of the suite with a calm expression, speaking clearly and seamlessly, giving off a distinct impression that she was eager to clock out.

Finally, she and the owl on her arm simultaneously turned their heads and asked, “Mr. Xi, Mr. Zhu, besides the master bedroom, the suite also has a guest room. Would you two need it?”

Once these words came out, both of them were quiet for a little while.

After the incident at the banquet, words like “guest room” and “separate rooms” had become glaringly bold and underlined red flags—practically death traps for them.

Even someone as affable as Li Shun could potentially be a spy for Xi Hongming, prying into their privacy.

Thus, a question like this demanded extreme caution in the response.

However, Zhu Ming remained silent throughout, apparently unwilling to answer.

Xi Xianqing exhaled softly and answered flawlessly, “…We probably won’t be needing it.”

“Okay.”

Nova adjusted her glasses, her eyes emitting a peculiar glimmer. “Perhaps you two aren’t aware, but our company’s gaming products have ranked number one in District Four’s game sales charts for five consecutive years.”

“All games sold by LotusX can be played using our latest model of the holographic immersion game pod. It’s similar to the lab pod you brought with you, except it’s designed for lying use.”

When introducing her company’s products, Nova seemed to be filled with an invisible energy, her face radiating enthusiasm. “The reason we didn’t prepare earlier was the possibility that you might have friends or assistants needing the guest room.”

“Since that’s not the case, I’ll have two game pods delivered shortly so you can properly experience the quality of our regional products,” she said.

The air in the room suddenly froze for a split second.

Zhu Ming suddenly realized something. “Actually, I…”

Xi Xianqing’s face stiffened, “That won’t be necessary—”

“It’s no trouble at all. You simply must try them.”

For the first time since their meeting, a smile appeared on Nova’s face. The perpetually stern-looking owl on her shoulder even squinted its eyes in delight. “The game pods are our company’s latest patented technology and one of the most significant technical achievements that led our two founders to be chosen as representatives of District Four.”

“The bookshelf also contains data discs of every game our company has developed since its establishment. We hope you’ll personally give them a try.”

As Nova spoke, she pulled out her phone and quickly dialed a number, issuing instructions without the slightest delay. “Yes, the guests have arrived. You guys come over now and move the bed out of the guest room.”

---

Author’s Notes:

They’ll argue, but for the next two months, they can only share the same bed^_^

Thank you very much, Roz, for the Ko-fi! :googleredheart:

---

The tea room’s décor exuded an elegant Zen aesthetic. The five-needle pine bonsai on the table was meticulously trimmed, and the delicate tea snacks were served in lacquered wooden boxes.

Xi Xianqing lowered his eyes and raised his hand, pouring tea—recently brought back from District Two—into Cen Zhuo’s cup.

“Spending every day in a company as cold as a showroom, I haven’t been back to District Six in ages. Home really is the most comfortable place ah.”

The koala beside him began to nod off. Cen Zhuo sighed, “The last time we met, we had just graduated. All I remember was the cold-hearted and aloof Young Master Xiao Xi, constantly rejecting love letters. Back then, I even joked that you were destined to live alone forever.”

“And now, look at me—I’ve become the epitome of a corporate slave, and not a single peach blossom has ever bloomed on me.”¹]Means he never had any romance in his life.

Cen Zhuo glanced around, a wistful expression on his face. “Our Young Master Xi here got into a relationship and even married in a flash—taking a pure and wholesome love story route I never saw coming.”

This person’s slick-talking habit hadn’t changed since their school days. Xi Xianqing, expressionless, pushed a teacup toward him. “…Enough already.”

“What’s wrong? I’m just being honest ah.”

Cen Zhuo’s grin grew more mischievous as he leaned in closer. “The first thing I saw in the news today was you. The way you kissed… tsk, tsk, tsk. A beauty in your arms and deep affection all around ah.”

Xi Xianqing had anticipated this and didn’t bother trying to dodge the topic. He coldly changed the subject. “How’s work going for you these days?”

“Just average. I’m in UI design, so there are plenty of stressful moments that makes you bald, but the overall prospects for our projects are good, and the revenue is pretty stable.”

Cen Zhuo smacked his lips in mild disappointment. Beside him, the koala listlessly tilted its head. “As for my two bosses, they’re ridiculously stable—been married for years, and their relationship is still like a honeymoon phase…”

“Aiya, how come the whole world is in pairs.”

He hatefully slammed the table, causing his teacup to wobble. “When is my perfect love story going to fall into my head ah?”

Xi Xianqing felt that this person was probably in heat: “…”

Both of them were born and raised in District Six. Xi Xianqing, because of his family’s status, pursued an extravagant and expensive field suited to his identity—jewelry design.

Cen Zhuo’s situation was different. His parents were businessmen, and his family was simple. From a young age, he yearned for the world beyond District Six, so he studied game design and joined a gaming technology company in District Four after graduation.

The core value of District Four was “Recreation,” but the scope of this “Recreation” was incredibly broad.

Unlike District Two, which focused on a single concept of leisure centered around food and vacationing, District Four’s idea of recreation was far more complex. It emphasized discovering the meaning of life, living to the fullest, and pushing the limits of one’s existence.

Thus, this so-called “recreation” meant that District Four boasted Xi Star’s largest-scale amusement park and its largest animation production company.

But it also meant that District Four housed Xi Star’s largest gambling and nightclub industries, representing the unspeakable forbidden pleasures of adults.

In short, it was both a captivating and dangerous district.

There was an old saying on Xi Star: the ideal life was to have a pair of parents from District Seven, date someone from District Six, roam District Four in one’s youth, and retire in District Two for a life of leisure.

Though this was a stereotype-laden joke, it highlighted the distinct characteristics of each district.

Of course, amusement parks and nightclubs were extreme examples. District Four also offered many normal forms of entertainment.

One of the most notable was video games, a medium that allowed young people to efficiently gain joy and energy, and interact across districts without leaving their homes.

Today’s gathering with Cen Zhuo wasn’t just a casual meetup. He now worked for LotusX, the most famous gaming technology company in District Four.

And as it happened, Cen Zhuo’s boss was the current representative of District Four—a key figure Xi Xianqing would have to interact with for his next assessment.

What made LotusX Technology Company unique was that it was founded from scratch by a married couple who had been together for many years. As a result, District Four’s current representatives were not one person, but two.

Although Xi Xianqing wasn’t particularly interested in gaming technology, a few of this company’s games were really out of the loop. The company’s collaborations, sponsorships, and advertisements had extensive reach. Thus, he more or less heard of it.

He listened as Cen Zhuo vented about his work. The topics ranged from the shady tactics of rival project teams in the business world to what was served at their company’s afternoon tea breaks. Overall, the work environment sounded fairly ordinary and routine.

The personalities of the two representatives also seemed pleasant, which put Xi Xianqing at ease.

“Alright la, I know you’re a busy man.”

After eating refreshments for almost an hour, the koala, now rubbing its round belly, looked satisfied. Not planning to linger any longer, Cen Zhuo added, “Let’s catch up again sometime.”

Xi Xianqing nodded and walked him to the entrance of the estate.

While waiting for his ride, Cen Zhuo glanced back, suddenly raising his voice with interest. “Hey, is that your lover in the garden?”

Turning around, Xi Xianqing indeed saw a figure in a wheelchair by the front door of the villa.

Zhu Ming had a white fox resting on his lap. The man and the fox both gazed in their direction.

Xi Xianqing replied, “…Yes.””

“Aiya, I understand everything.”

Cen Zhuo made a knowing face, full of exaggerated winks, as if saying, “Ah, the daily life of a couple—I understand it all.” He added playfully, “We’ve talked about enough for today. If you have any questions about District Four, just message me anytime.”

In Cen Zhuo’s eyes as the outsider, Zhu Ming was like a newlywed who was looking forward to his lover’s return, sitting by the villa’s door with expectant eyes, waiting for Xi Xianqing.

But when Xi Xianqing looked closer, he noticed that Zhu Ming was holding a light screen in one hand, his brows slightly furrowed. It became clear that things might not be as simple as they seemed on the surface.

Xi Xianqing steadied himself, “Let me see you off to your car.”

Cen Zhuo patted him on the shoulder, his expression suggestive. “Hurry back. Don’t keep him waiting too long.”

After watching Cen Zhuo leave in the car, Xi Xianqing exhaled a breath.

He stood there for a moment, closing his eyes to adjust his expression, before he turned around and walked toward the person waiting at the villa entrance, his face calm and composed.

As he approached, he noticed Zhu Ming seemed lost in thought, staring at the light screen in his hand.

The light screen was lit, displaying a page Zhu Ming often used to document Dish Soap’s behavior.

Xi Xianqing vaguely saw numerous things scratched out in messy strokes, as if Zhu Ming’s previous thoughts and concepts had been abruptly overturned by something new.

He sensed that Zhu Ming’s state seemed off and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Only then did Zhu Ming raise his eyes.

He stared at Xi Xianqing’s face for a long time, as though caught between deep thought and complete blankness. After a moment, he spoke, “Can you… hand me the sensor gloves?”

Since Zhu Ming had impulsively used his spiritual energy to break open Dish Soap’s feathers last time, the sensor gloves had been kept in Xi Xianqing’s possession.

Xi Xianqing gave an “en” and went into the living room. He retrieved the gloves and handed them to Zhu Ming.

Zhu Ming put on the gloves, lowering his gaze as though contemplating something. After a long pause, his eyes refocused on Xi Xianqing’s face. “Can you release Dish Soap now?”

Xi Xianqing was stunned, “Yes.”

As the psychoplasmic particles slowly condensed, the green peac0ck, with its slender tail feathers trailing behind, quietly appeared at his feet.

Zhu Ming maneuvered his wheelchair to the back of the green peac0ck. He bent down, his hands moving over Dish Soap’s tail feathers and butt silently.

The white fox, which usually lazed on his lap in a deep sleep, jumped down this time. Its ears perked up alertly as it circled the green peac0ck, pacing back and forth, inspecting and observing.

Dish Soap pecked at the feathers on its chest a couple of times before raising its head. It noticed it was surrounded by a man and a fox and blinked its small round eyes in confusion, looking to its master for help.

Xi Xianqing didn’t hold back and asked, “What are you doing?”

Zhu Ming snapped out of his trance after a long while. He straightened up and said, “Now, try controlling your spiritual energy and manipulate Dish Soap’s tail feathers.”

Xi Xianqing assumed Zhu Ming had come up with some random whimsical idea. Although it felt strange, he didn’t argue and tried adjusting his spiritual energy.

Dish Soap blinked but showed no movement in its tail feathers.

Zhu Ming muttered, “… No reaction.”

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

Zhu Ming’s cryptic behavior unsettled Xi Xianqing, his expression turning slightly cold. “You know I’ve never been able to—”

“No, you can.” Zhu Ming interrupted, raising his head to fix his gaze on Xi Xianqing. “And you just did.”

“I was upstairs earlier. I saw it with my own eyes,” Zhu Ming said, taking a deep breath. He pointed his pen at the green peac0ck on the ground. “It spread its tail feathers.”

Xi Xianqing stiffened. “…What?”

“It’s absolutely true. And it did it of its own will.”

Zhu Ming picked up one of Dish Soap’s tail feathers, examined it for a moment, then released it with a bewildered expression. “You didn’t notice it because you’d just finished chatting with your friend in the garden. It was standing behind you and suddenly spread its feathers wide.”

“Not only did it spread its feathers, but it lasted a full ten seconds—until you put it away.”

Xi Xianqing stared at the green peac0ck at his feet, his voice hoarse. “Are you sure… you didn’t see it wrong?”

“I’m sure. I may be lame, but I’m not blind.”

Zhu Ming replied bluntly, biting the end of his pen. He whispered to himself, “You also haven’t been taking your medication lately. I’m starting to wonder if my entire line of thinking has been wrong all along.”

The room fell into a deep silence. The weight of this shocking revelation was hard for either of them to process.

A few seconds later, Zhu Ming seemed to recall something. He abruptly raised his head and grabbed Xi Xianqing’s sleeve. “When you were walking in the garden earlier, what were you thinking about?”

Xi Xianqing’s jawline tightened sharply

After a brief pause, he replied irritably, “Walking is just walking. How am I supposed to remember what I was thinking?”

Zhu Ming realized his question was unreasonable and let go of Xi Xianqing’s sleeve with a sigh of frustration.

At the same time, he became acutely aware that there had to have been a variable in the time between his drunken stupor the previous night and Dish Soap’s display of its feathers.

A variable that had never existed before in Xi Xianqing’s life—something that unconsciously triggered an emotional fluctuation strong enough to affect his spiritual energy, which in turn caused Dish Soap to spread its tail feathers.

After a pause, Zhu Ming’s questions spilled out in rapid succession. “After I got drunk last night, did you do anything you don’t normally do? Eat anything out of the ordinary?”

His voice betrayed his growing excitement as he pressed further. “Did you drink alcohol? Watch something stimulating? Or during any interaction, did you experience any intense emotional swings?”

Xi Xianqing: “…”

To uncover the variable, there were no shortcuts—only the simplest and clumsy way: examining and eliminating each potential factor one by one.

They returned to the living room. Zhu Ming recorded notes on the light screen while Xi Xianqing sat on the sofa, as if being interrogated as a prisoner.

“Diet, sleep, medication—nothing’s changed compared to before.”

Ten minutes later, Zhu Ming was clutching his hair, muttering, “Why would this happen… And why could it work briefly just now, but not anymore?”

Xi Xianqing stared at Dish Soap by his feet, its tail feathers utterly motionless. Unable to help himself, he asked Zhu Ming again, “Are you absolutely sure you didn’t see it wrong?”

Zhu Ming’s gaze remained fixed on the light screen, his tone resolute. “I’m sure.”

Xi Xianqing fell silent.

All the suspicious factors listed on the screen had already been eliminated.

Zhu Ming doodled aimlessly on the light screen, his pen pressing so hard it seemed as though it might puncture the surface.

Variable.

The variable that hadn’t appeared before last night.

The tip of his pen froze, and it suddenly occurred to him that there was indeed another variable that had never been considered by him.

And judging by the current results, it was a variable that was… painfully obvious.

The white fox’s swishing tail stilled. Zhu Ming remained quiet for a moment before lifting his gaze to the person sitting on the sofa across from him.

Xi Xianqing noticed his line of sight and turned his face.

Their eyes met for a long moment. Zhu Ming, usually straightforward and unreserved, was uncharacteristically shy for a few seconds.

“You tell me,” Zhu Ming adjusted his breathing, lips pressed together as he cautiously began, “could it be… because of the little kiss I gave you last night?”

Xi Xianqing’s pupils constricted sharply, cutting him off almost instantly. “Impossible.”

The living room was quiet again.

To be honest, even Zhu Ming thought the idea was absurd the moment it crossed his mind.

But when all other possibilities had been eliminated, no matter how outlandish or improbable the remaining one seemed, it could only be the correct answer.

Zhu Ming stared at Xi Xianqing’s tense profile for a while.

Suddenly, a memory flashed through his mind—just before Dish Soap opened its feathers, he recalled Xi Xianqing in the garden, distracted and raising a hand to… gently touch his lips.

Zhu Ming’s breathing quickened.

“This isn’t the time for stubbornness. Whether or not your condition can be cured might hinge on this answer. So I hope you can treat me as a doctor—respond honestly and seriously.”

Zhu Ming said, his gaze fixed intently on Xi Xianqing. “In the garden earlier… were you thinking about that moment last night, when I forcibly kissed you?”

A flush spread over Xi Xianqing’s ears as he glared toward Zhu Ming. “I—”

He could have said “I didn’t” or “I forgot”.

But as he met Zhu Ming’s clear, dark eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbed silently. The words stopped in his throat. He managed to say “I” but failed to finish the sentence.

His chest rose and fell, Zhu Ming saw him turn away his face after a moment.

Zhu Ming’s heartbeat silently skipped a beat, for he understood—this was Xi Xianqing’s way of saying “yes.”

He stared blankly at the light screen in his hands, displaying the results of every medication and experiment he had tested on Dish Soap. For the first time in his life, the entirety of his twenty-plus years of medical knowledge felt absurdly useless.

Countless meticulously developed medications had failed to work, and yet, the thing that finally caused Dish Soap to react… was an accidental kiss?

How could it be?

He forced himself to calm down, adopting the detached, analytical mindset of a doctor to rationalize it all. After all, he wasn’t narcissistic enough to believe that Xi Xianqing’s breakthrough had anything to do with him personally.

But now, one thing was certain: the event of Dish Soap opening its tail feathers… was undeniably connected to the act of kissing.

His pen hovered over the light screen as a realization began to dawn on him.

At that time, when Xi Xianqing first sought him out for help, he had explained that most of the top clinics in District Seven were already at their wits’ end with his symptoms.

So at that time Zhu Ming’s thinking also followed into a narrow misunderstanding, that is, Dish Soap’s issue stemmed from a pathological problem.

But what if… the inability to open its feathers wasn’t caused by a pathological condition, but rather a physiological or psychological one?

Zhu Ming had overlooked a glaringly obvious possibility—that is, the natural instinct of the peac0ck hasn’t been taken into account.

There were two possible reasons why the peac0ck spiritual manifestation couldn’t fan its tail—one was due to congenital or pathological defects, while the other was… it might have never triggered its mating instincts.

Or perhaps it was a combination of both. Zhu Ming had previously focused on researching medications to address the former, but the results had always been unsatisfactory. Now, however, it seemed the latter might be the real issue.

“Xi Xianqing.” Zhu Ming gently called out his name.

He noticed Xi Xianqing’s body subtly tremble.

Countless ways of phrasing the question cycled through Zhu Ming’s mind over and over again. Finally, he pressed his lips together, softened his voice, and tentatively asked, “Last night… was that your first kiss?”

He knew such questions already crossed a boundary and understood Xi Xianqing’s personality well enough to anticipate the person’s likely reaction.

As expected, Xi Xianqing’s ears turned an even deeper shade of red as if he had heard something utterly absurd. His pupils trembled slightly, and he practically ground his teeth as he looked at Zhu Ming. “Zhu Ming, you—”

“I know this question is a bit personal. You don’t have to answer ha.”

Before Xi Xianqing could erupt in fury, Zhu Ming swiftly changed tactics. “But for what it’s worth, last night was my first time kissing anyone.”

Xi Xianqing’s expression changed slightly.

He stared at Zhu Ming for a long time in silence, his lips twitching slightly before he asked, “…Really?”

---

Author’s Note:

Feeling secretly pleased again, Qing

After Zhu Ming affectionately buried his cheek against Xi Xianqing’s stomach and then lay still, not moving an inch.

The scene seemed to freeze at that moment, and for a time, the world fell into complete silence.

The person who had fallen into a deep sleep appeared utterly relaxed, but the one who remained awake was in a much less enviable state.

In truth, if someone observed closely, they would notice that the hand Xi Xianqing was using to support Zhu Ming was trembling slightly.

His mind was a complete blank as he forced himself to remain calm. His throat felt parched, and he spoke with difficulty, “Grandfather, he’s usually very measured in his actions. Today, perhaps… he simply drank a bit too much.”

Xi Jianfeng stared at the two tightly entwined figures without saying a word. After a brief pause, he set down the tea cup in his hand and said coolly, “Take the child outside to sober up a bit.”

His thoughts were a jumbled mess. Xi Xianqing could only rely on instinct as he gave a response, his voice dry, “Understood.”

The person in front of him was so drunk that they were clearly incapable of moving on their own. Xi Xianqing bit down slightly, steadying himself before simply scooping the other person up in his arms and heading out of the private room.

“By the way,” Xi Jianfeng’s voice sounded behind them just as he had taken a few steps. “Don’t forget what I said earlier. While assessments and your career are important, you should also spend more time with your family when you can.”

Xi Xianqing dared not dwell on the deeper meaning behind these words. His ears burned as he replied, “…I understand.”

As he carried Zhu Ming out of the room, they brushed past Xi Hongming, who had been waiting by the door.

Xi Hongming’s expression was difficult to read. He clenched his teeth, deeply regretful that things hadn’t gone according to his plan. It felt like a bone was stuck in his throat.

Dark undercurrents flowed in the atmosphere, but Xi Xianqing had no time to deal with such matters. He quickly averted his gaze and carried the person away with determined, steady strides.

The private room’s door had been left open earlier, and those queuing to offer their congratulations weren’t limited to Xi Hongming’s family. Social elites from both within and outside of District Six were waiting outside, naturally witnessing the entire scene that had just unfolded.

Even after walking some distance away, Xi Xianqing could faintly hear murmured discussions accompanied by light laughter behind him. “Youth is really good ah… so fiery and passionate ah. Just look at Mr. Xiao Xi’s flushed ears.”

“They’re said to be from District Seven, so I expected them to be rigid and traditional, but who knew they’d kiss so boldly? Turns out they’re more open than we are.”

“They’re newlyweds, utterly infatuated. It’s only natural to see such affection.”

The person in his arms breathed hotly against Xi Xianqing’s neck, the scorching warmth seeping into his skin. Xi Xianqing pressed his lips into a stiff line and silently quickened his pace.

“Looks like that supposed ‘sleeping in separate rooms’ rumor was just a typical couple’s quarrel.”

Outside the private room, Xi Sen, who had also been watching the spectacle, smirked and commented dryly, “I’d advise you two to focus on properly congratulating Grandfather tonight. I haven’t fallen to the level of relying on random slanders and whispers to win the assessment.”

Zhang Yuan couldn’t help raising a hand to playfully swat her arm. “This girl. We worry every day over your future, and here you are siding with outsiders?”

Xi Sen pretended not to hear, stepping back into the private room in her high heels with gifts in hand.

Xi Hongming’s brows were locked tightly, staring at the back of the two people who were far away.

When Li Shun briefed him on their schedule, he had mentioned that the two were unusually affectionate on the car ride when they had just arrived in District Two.

Although the claim that they slept in separate rooms had seemed suspicious… now, it looked more like a case of a regular couple’s quarrels. Had he overthought the matter?

A trace of doubt still remains in Xi Hongming’s heart. But no matter how he looked at it, the kiss between the two earlier seemed entirely genuine. If they were acting… they really have too much dedication.

Everyone present, including Xi Jianfeng, could see it: the two were clearly lovestruck newlyweds, sweetly bickering and flirting like honey-coated oil.

At this point, it seemed that at least for tonight, Xi Hongming had no choice but to quietly offer a congratulatory gift without causing further trouble or embellishing his pre-prepared gossip.

After leaving the private room, Xi Xianqing finally found a quiet corner and placed the person in his arms onto a chair.

Zhu Ming lowered his gaze and drowsily lifted his eyelids to glance around. A moment later, his head drooped once more.

A thousand of subtle emotions clouded Xi Xianqing’s heart. He stared at the person in front of him, struggling to control his expression as he hoarsely asked, “What exactly were you… doing back there?”

Zhu Ming kept his head down, remaining silent.

The teary-eyed, sulky, and aggrieved expression he had worn earlier in the private room was nowhere to be found now, making it clear to Xi Xianqing that Zhu Ming’s earlier act hadn’t been drunken madness but a deliberate performance using the effects of alcohol as cover.

But something about Zhu Ming’s current state didn’t feel quite right either—his head hung low, one hand pressed against his stomach. His brows were furrowed, the corners of his eyes were faintly red, and he seemed far from being in a lucid state.

Xi Xianqing felt something was wrong. “What’s wrong with you?”

For a long time, he heard the person in front of him murmur in a small voice: “Why are the floor tiles and you… both spinning?”

Xi Xianqing: “…?”

Zhu Ming raised his hazy eyes to look at him for a while. Then, frowning slightly, he tipped his head forward, and before Xi Xianqing could react, he toppled directly into his chest—

This time, he was truly drunk on top of Xi Xianqing.

Zhu Ming had a dream.

This one was neither beautiful nor unfamiliar—in fact, it was a dream he had experienced countless times. The night outside the window was as thick as ink, and the sound of shattering glass mingled with piercing horns and screeching brakes filled his ears sharply. The world spun wildly as he was thrown back once more to the moment of the car crash years ago.

The sharp pain in his waist and legs was as vivid as ever. In the next moment, he plunged into an abyss of darkness, only to suddenly wake from the dream.

The moment he woke up, the source of pain shifted—from his legs to his temples. Or rather, his legs no longer hurt at all.

Zhu Ming struggled to open his eyes and was greeted by the sight of a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Turning his gaze, he noticed a dark bed sheet and a black lacquered wooden bedside table. The overall décor was understated and elegant but couldn’t completely hide the air of luxury in its finer details.

Zhu Ming even remembered that behind the door not far away was a massive walk-in closet, as Xi Mufei had brought him here once before.

This was… Xi Xianqing’s bedroom.

Fumbling to sit up, Zhu Ming’s stomach cramped violently. His body felt unbearably heavy, his head throbbed as if splitting, and even his throat was inexplicably hoarse, making it nearly impossible to speak.

Then, a cold voice cut through the silence, “There’s warm honey water on the bedside table.”

Still dizzy and lightheaded, Zhu Ming instinctively followed the direction of the voice, grabbing the glass on the bedside table. The warm, sweet liquid slid down his throat, soothing it slightly and bringing him back to life.

He was just barely able to see the world in front of him, and then he was stunned. “You…”

Xi Xianqing was seated on an armchair not far away, his legs elegantly crossed as he flipped through a magazine.

Hearing the commotion, he raised his eyes briefly to glance at Zhu Ming but didn’t say anything.

The memories about last night flooded into his mind bit by bit.

Zhu Ming’s expression gradually became pained.

The slow, torturous recollection was excruciating. Pressing one hand against his throbbing temple, he raised the other to make a halting gesture. “Just give me the gist… How bad is it?”

Xi Xianqing’s gaze remained fixed on the magazine in his hands. With a faint flick of his fingertips, he turned a page without looking at Zhu Ming. “You can guess. What do you think the number one trending topic in District Six’s entertainment news is today?”

Zhu Ming: “…”

He was silent for a moment before picking up his phone, scrolling briefly through it for a few seconds.

Moments later, he slowly set the phone aside on the blanket, leaned back, shut his eyes, and gritted his teeth. “Why is there even a video?”

“Because you were very good at picking the place last night—inside the room was my grandfather, and outside it was the wealthiest and nosiest group of people in District Six.”

Closing his magazine, Xi Xianqing delivered another calm and cutting remark, “Which of them do you think would bother keeping their mouths shut for us?”

Zhu Ming took a deep breath and buried his face in his palms.

After a long moment of silent suffering, he finally raised his eyes to look at Xi Xianqing and squeezed out a confession, “What happened last night… was definitely my fault.”

Xi Xianqing didn’t say anything.

“I know you’re someone who values boundaries a lot. Last night was such an important occasion, and your family is strict about rules and etiquette. So, first off, let me sincerely apologize for my actions.”

Letting out a heavy breath, Zhu Ming quickly pivoted. “However, I had valid reasons for what I did.”

Xi Xianqing’s expression was unreadable. It was unclear whether he was angry or feeling something else entirely.

He was silent for a long time. “Speak.”

Zhu Ming sipped the honey water by the window to moisten his throat, steadied his breathing, and recounted everything—the overheard conversation between Xi Hongming’s family, the details leading up to his actions, and his motivations for what he’d done.

“I later thought about it. The person he mentioned, the one with ‘connections in District Two,’ is likely the resort manager, Li Shun.”

Scratching his hair, Zhu Ming glanced at the white fox at the head of the bed and also put on a rare serious look. “Our fake marriage—and Dish Soap’s, well, inability to stand up—if Grandfather finds out, it’ll have serious consequences for your future.”

“And once your family knows, it won’t take long for my aunt to find out too. So at that moment, I… just had to think fast and improvise a little.”

“At first, I just wanted to stage the argument between us in District Two, thinking that would suffice to explain the separate rooms.”

Zhu Ming began, sipping his water slowly. “But after that, I felt it wasn’t quite convincing enough—like Xi Hongming still wouldn’t buy it. So I thought I needed to go all in, hit them with something so decisive that they’d be left speechless. And then…”

He was a bit unable to speak.

Xi Xianqing’s chest rose and fell as his fingers pressed tightly on the edge of the magazine. “And what you mean by all in is…”

“Well…”

Zhu Ming swallowed hard and said, “Looking at the outcome now, the play went over pretty well. At least no one’s speculating about our fake marriage or, that, it can’t get up. It seems Xi Hongming believed it.”

Only the spread of this act was much larger than Zhu Ming expected.

Xi Xianqing was silent again.

“Despite that, I think I made two mistakes.”

Zhu Ming admitted, fiddling with the glass in his hand before exhaling heavily. “First, I panicked a little, so I mixed whiskey with red wine to give myself some nerve. The alcohol did give me inspiration and courage, in a way.”

He painfully clenched his teeth. “But it might’ve given me too much. I forgot one crucial fact—I really can’t hold my liquor. Looking back, though the scene worked, it might’ve… gone a bit too far.”

The memory alone was enough to make him curl his toes in embarrassment.

“Second,” Zhu Ming added sincerely, “if I’d had more time, I probably would’ve come up with a more suitable plan.”

“But at the time, I saw they were about to step into the room and badmouth you, and I didn’t have time to coordinate with you. My brain only had one thought: beat them to the punch by getting inside first and then—”

He paused, choosing his words carefully. “In short, I’m really sorry… for not discussing it with you in advance.”

Xi Xianqing remained silent throughout, leaving Zhu Ming uncharacteristically timid as he clutched the blanket and avoided meeting his gaze. For a long moment, no one spoke.

Finally, he heard Xi Xianqing say, “Know your limits when it comes to alcohol in the future.”

Zhu Ming murmured an “Mm” in response. The white fox by his feet, equally guilty, tucked its tail beneath itself, mirroring Zhu Ming’s reluctance to lift his head.

It wasn’t until the faint sound of movement from the other side of the room reached him that Zhu Ming cautiously lifted his eyes. To his surprise, Xi Xianqing had already stood up, taken his coat, and looked every bit ready to leave.

Prepared for a thorough scolding, Zhu Ming blurted out, “Huh? That’s it?”

Xi Xianqing gave him a sideways glance. “What else do you want to hear me say?”

Zhu Ming hesitated, “Aren’t you… angry?”

He vividly recalled how irritated Xi Xianqing had been just at Zhu Yingying faking a kiss. Back then, it was all about “boundaries” and “keeping your distance.”

Now, they’d actually kissed—really kissed. Even Zhu Ming felt a twinge of guilt. But here was Xi Xianqing, the very person who’d always harped on about boundaries, brushing the matter off like it was nothing.

Xi Xianqing stood in place for a long time. “I don’t have time to be angry.”

“You’ve explained the reasoning behind everything you did, and as long as Grandpa isn’t suspicious and it doesn’t affect the assessment, there’s nothing unacceptable about it.”

Xi Xianqing didn’t meet Zhu Ming’s eyes as he added coldly, “Besides, I have a meeting with a friend from District Four to prepare for the next round of assessments. I don’t have time to dwell on this nonsense with you.”

He paused and finally added, “Next time, be mindful of your alcohol tolerance.”

Zhu Ming gave a dumbfounded “Oh”.

He watched as Xi Xianqing left, realizing that he was still in a dream world.

En, just like that… it was dismissed, so effortlessly.

Zhu Ming was supposed to feel relieved, but instead, an inexplicable weight pressed on his chest. Whenever he tried to delve deeper into the feeling, the splitting headache that followed distracted him.

His mind was a mess.

The motivations behind that kiss could be explained in many ways—For Xi Xianqing, it was to safeguard his future and shut the mouths of malicious relatives. For Zhu Ming, it was to ensure their fake marriage wasn’t exposed and to cover the colossal lie he had told Zhu Yingying.

Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t the kind of person who would act impulsively, let alone cross such a line simply because of alcohol and a fleeting rush of emotion.

But the outcome was already there… Yes, it had happened—almost as if it were fated.

Taking a deep breath, Zhu Ming forced himself to stop dwelling on it.

At the very least, Xi Xianqing didn’t seem too bothered by the kiss anymore. He was already focused on his next round of assessments. Zhu Ming decided he should also fulfill his responsibilities as a doctor and help Xi Xianqing recover as quickly as possible.

Feeling a tightness in his chest, he moved to the balcony, opened the window, and took a deep breath of fresh air.

As he sipped slowly from a cup of honey water, letting his mind drift, a sound came from the garden.

The garden at Xi Xianqing’s private residence was exquisitely designed. Expensive plants and flowers adorned the space, and even the simplest bushes were pruned with artistry, a clear sign of professional care.

In the middle of the garden stood an elegant pavilion, nestled in a lush bamboo grove. It served as a highly private tea room.

Zhu Ming saw Xi Xianqing standing on the garden’s stone path, talking with a bespectacled man whose warm smile gave him a simple, unpretentious air. This was likely the friend from District Four that Xi Xianqing had mentioned earlier.

The man patted Xi Xianqing’s shoulder and said something with a smile. A sleeping koala lay sprawled on his shoulder.

Perhaps out of consideration for his old friend, Xi Xianqing hesitated for a moment before finally releasing his green peac0ck.

Zhu Ming saw the bespectacled man lean down slightly while Dish Soap calmly lifted its head and gently pecked at the koala’s tail with its beak.

It had been a long time since Zhu Ming had seen Dish Soap in person. Taking another sip of the sweet honey water, he squinted and carefully examined the green peac0ck from head to toe.

En, perfectly healthy and full of energy.

He watched as Ye Lu approached politely, said something, and then guided the bespectacled man into the pavilion ahead.

Xi Xianqing followed at the rear, his steps slowing slightly, as though lost in thought. He stared at the grass for a moment, seemingly distracted.

In Zhu Ming’s perspective, his expression looked very plain.

It seemed as though Xi Xianqing was recalling something. After a moment, he raised his hand and lightly touched his lips.

Thinking he was simply zoning out, Zhu Ming didn’t give it much thought either. However, the honey water in his cup tasted increasingly bland the more he drank. Lowering his head, he picked up the silver spoon and stirred it gently, trying to mix the honey stuck at the bottom more evenly.

When he raised his head again and glanced downward absentmindedly, his hand suddenly froze.

A loud clang echoed as the spoon slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.

But Zhu Ming had no time to pick it up. His gaze was fixed on the green peac0ck behind Xi Xianqing, and for a moment, he even forgot how to breathe.

—Because Dish Soap, standing behind Xi Xianqing, was frantically vibrating its tail feathers… at an incredibly high frequency.

This wasn’t the casual shake he’d observed in the past. No, this was rapid, continuous, and intense shaking.

Zhu Ming watched in stunned silence as Dish Soap’s tail feathers kept trembling and, along with the movement, its butt swayed twice. Then, at a visibly slow yet steady pace, the feathers unfolded completely, bit by bit!

Without any warning… it spread its tail!

Zhu Ming’s breathing abruptly stopped.

At the same time, Zhu Ming noticed Xi Xianqing press his lips together, his fingers curling slightly before he dropped his hand back to his side.

He didn’t seem to notice the movement of the green peac0ck behind him. Or perhaps he never thought there could be any change in the green peac0ck standing there.

The slightly sticky honey water trickled from Zhu Ming’s hand down his arm. A breeze swept past, sending a cool sensation across his skin.

It was then that Zhu Ming abruptly came back to his senses.

Gripping the balcony railing, he shouted down, “Xi Xianqing, turn around!”

But the distance between them was too great, or perhaps Xi Xianqing was still lost in thought. In any case, he didn’t hear him.

Zhu Ming watched helplessly as Xi Xianqing turned away, lifted a leg, and walked in the direction of the pavilion.

Behind him, Dish Soap, who had just completed the first independent tail-spreading display of its life, shook its gorgeous fan-shaped feathers with a flourish. It spun proudly in a circle, even wiggling its butt twice in delight.

It gloriously and proudly took a few steps to the left–da da da–, and then a few steps to the right–da da da.

It was as if… it were frantically showing off its triumphant first display of its tail.

When it realized that no one was paying attention, its round, beady eyes blinked in confusion. Shaking its feathers again, it made an effort to spread its tail even wider, determined to show off the full extent of its beauty.

Unfortunately, no one was ever around to notice it.

In the end, it seemed a little dejected, lowering its head slightly as it awkwardly followed behind its master. With its massive tail fanned out, it waddled clumsily, swaying unsteadily with each step.

Zhu Ming finally snapped out of his daze. He hurriedly pulled out his phone, fumbling to capture the moment before it passed.

However, just as he opened the camera, he noticed that the edges of the green peac0ck’s tail feathers had already begun to blur, gradually dissolving into translucent, ethereal neuroprotons.

It was the master, walking hurriedly ahead without sparing it a single glance, who had retracted it.

---

Author’s notes:

Big Peac0ck: Calmly reminiscing, as if nothing had happened.

Little Fox: Shocked, deeply contemplating the principle of spreading tail.

Dish Soap (Furiously Spreading Its Tail) (Butt Twisting Back And Forth): Excuse me, can someone please admire my beauty? ψ(｀∇´)ψ