“How long has it been wilting? What’s the firmness level? At most, how long can it hold up?”
It was six o’clock in the evening, the prime time for live streaming platforms.
Numerous live-streamers covering products, gaming, and food anchors pulled out all the stops, flaunting their unique talents and gimmicks, each one doing their utmost to grab a slice of the massive audience.
Yet, this channel called “Not Famous,” with a plain white avatar, held a steady spot in the top three trending streams every night.
“Don’t act like a stranger; make yourself at home.”
The owner of the live broadcast room’s voice was warm and lazy, his face refined and calm, unaware of how astonishing his words sounded: “Only with enough honesty can I prescribe the right medicine.”
The young man he was speaking to on the other end of the call was already blushing deeply. “I-it’s been wilting for a month, Dr. Zhu… and it barely holds up for very long…”
Zhu Ming: “Show me.”
The young man, barely audible, responded, “Okay… okay.”
Meanwhile, the live chat was brushed with more fervent reactions, stirred by this sensational patient exchange.
“Such daring words—is this something we can watch for free?”
“The Internet is not a place outside the law. Is there no one to control this?”
“Let me see, let me see. What’s going on?”
Just as the content seemed to be heading in an indescribable direction, the young man’s face turned crimson, and behind him, a cluster of trembling green leaves began to appear.
The hazy glow along the edges of the leaves indicated it wasn’t physical but was instead a mental manifestation composed of neuroprotons. The leaves stretched and grew, forming budding flowers, and a hint of bright yellow could be seen at the center.
—A rare sunflower mental body.
Zhu Ming’s eyes lit up slightly.
The young man’s face turned increasingly red, his breathing quickened, and the budding flower quivered as if about to bloom. However, after just a few seconds, the entire sunflower drooped its head, unable to hide its wilted state.
“It can bud but can’t bloom properly. From the time it rises to when it wilts again takes less than ten seconds. The symptoms are quite severe.” Zhu Ming concluded. “Have you had any extreme emotional fluctuations recently? Like a breakup? Family issues?”
The young man was shocked, “How do you know?”
Zhu Ming nodded, “Burst out crying or hunger strike?”
The young man suddenly choked up. “Yes… but I didn’t go on a hunger strike; I just can’t swallow anything… That woman was so heartless, but I still love her so much ah—”
“Wilting leaves in plant-type mental manifestations are usually related to low mood and dehydration.” Zhu Ming steered the conversation back on track, speaking softly. “Resident of District Three?”
The young man dumbly nodded.
Zhu Ming continued, “Cry less, drink more water. District Three has less sunlight in winter, so you should also supplement it with some vitamins. You could travel to District Six or District Four for a few days to get some sun.”
The young man looked as if he had found hope. “Then, do I need medication? Should I go to District Seven to see a doctor? Will I be able to, you know, get it back up again?”
Zhu Ming: “No need for medication. Recuperating for two weeks should help you recover, but if you still can’t after half a month, it’s best to make an appointment in District Seven.”
The young man’s eyes sparkled, and he thanked Zhu Ming repeatedly. Even the drooping sunflower spirit behind him swayed slightly in response.
Zhu Ming’s mouth twitched slightly and hung up the call.
“That’s all for today’s broadcast.” He glanced at the screen’s time. “The day after tomorrow will be a session on marine-type mental manifestations. Anyone interested, remember to submit requests in advance.”
In the chat, one of the longtime followers who knew his personal life asked, “Going on another blind date today?”
“En, blind date,” Zhu Ming replied calmly. “It’s the last one.”
Fans continued to tease him: “After so many dates, Dr. Zhu, aren’t you tired ah? It’s been half a year, right?”
Zhu Ming didn’t mind and replied calmly, “I’m tired, which is why if I meet a good match today, I’m planning to just settle down.”
He turned off the live broadcast.
Checking the time, he saw it was only 6:15. He still had time; the arranged blind date was at 7:30 p.m. However, unlike others, Zhu Ming had to allow himself at least an hour to get ready and leave.
Because he couldn’t walk now.
From childhood to adulthood, Zhu Ming had appeared in the headlines in District Seven twice in his life.
The first was, “District Seven’s first-ever medical exam genius with a perfect score begins mental manifestation medicine research at the Academy of Sciences at only 17.” The second was, “Former perfect-score genius falls into a coma after a car accident, missing this year’s District Seven chief competition.”
Yes, Zhu Ming had been in an accident two years ago, resulting in a spinal cord injury that left him wheelchair-bound.
He took it rather well; after all, once a person is at rock bottom, every step forward is progress.
He hadn’t lost his life or become completely paralyzed, and the injury wasn’t irreversible. His bodily functions were mostly intact, and with slow rehabilitation, he was among the wheelchair users with the highest quality of life. Someday, he might even stand again.
Though he had missed that year’s chief competition in District Seven, and for various reasons had to pause his research, he was blessed with a handsome face. Now, he was treating mental manifestation illnesses online. In short, he drew substantial traffic, and every session was packed.
Some tuned in for the novelty of watching the “former District Seven genius now reduced to treating people in a live broadcast,” while others genuinely sought his help. Either way, what started unintentionally had flourished into a successful streaming career.
Cyber-medical practice was still a small branch of scientific research, and Zhu Ming was quite content with it.
The one person who truly couldn’t accept that Zhu Ming was unable to walk was his aunt, Zhu Yingying.
When he first had the accident, she cried every day. Later, when her tears ran dry, her focus shifted to something else—she began using her connections to find Zhu Ming a partner.
Zhu Ming: “I’m only 27, not about to be buried. Don’t you think this is a bit early?”
Zhu Yingying: “Aiyaya, not too early. You’re home alone every day; I’m afraid you’ll get lonely ah. Having someone to keep you company would be a good thing ya.”
Zhu Ming: “You don’t count as a person?”
Zhu Yingying looked at him pitifully. “Aiyaya, but what if someday I’m not around anymore? Who’ll take care of you then? You—”
She didn’t dare finish, as Zhu Ming had laughed in frustration. When he got agitated, the old wound on his waist flared up, bringing him cold sweats and draining all color from his face.
Zhu Yingying didn’t dare to push any further and held her tongue.
But she started watering the small orange potted plant in the living room more frequently and added hay to the pet rabbit in the cage. It was all quite symbolic—the rabbit represented his mother’s mental manifestation, and the orange tree was her favorite plant when she was alive.
Zhu Ming knew what Zhu Yingying was hinting at: “Your mother is watching over you from above.”
So, six months ago, Zhu Ming had begun going on a series of blind dates.
On the small planet of Xi Star, there were only seven autonomous regions. Zhu Ming’s sole condition was “not to talk about the people of this district.”
One district per month, both men and women, at a rate more frequent than his rehabilitation sessions. Of course, none of them had succeeded; he had covertly sabotaged each one, whether directly or indirectly.
It wasn’t that he didn’t yearn for love, but he couldn’t walk and didn’t want to tie anyone down for life.
He had gone through five blind dates, covering all districts except his own, District Seven, leaving only today’s with someone from District Six.
The blind date was set at a restaurant in District Seven. Zhu Ming left home early and even arrived 15 minutes ahead of time.
Seeing Zhu Ming in a wheelchair, the waitress felt a surge of sympathy and offered to push him.
Zhu Ming politely declined, wheeling himself into the private room and asking for the menu.
The holographic menu screen was clean and convenient, but the images of the dishes looked a bit distorted. Zhu Ming actually wanted a paper menu but held back, afraid that he’d look like a disabled person who specialized in hijacking morals, so he said nothing.
He was lazily rotating the salt-crusted chicken on the screen, studying how many pieces were in the dish, when a shadow fell over him, interrupting his count.
Zhu Ming raised his head.
—At first, he saw people. Lots and lots of people, specifically men in black suits, the kind of bodyguard team one would only expect to see in a TV Drama.
Then his gaze settled on the person in the center, surrounded by the bodyguards.
Zhu Ming pondered for a moment, recalling the sparse information his aunt Zhu Yingying had given him. “Ms…. Xi?”
Since he had started using a wheelchair, Zhu Ming’s line of sight was fixed at a lower angle.
This had shifted his perspective of the world; for instance, his first focus was no longer someone’s face but their chin.
This person had a sharp and prominent jawline with a striking bone structure.
As the person approached, Zhu Ming could see his face more clearly—deep, bold brows and eyes, a straight nose, but a cold light in his gaze, looking in Zhu Ming’s direction with an expression devoid of warmth.
A proud and exceptionally handsome young man.
En, a man, so not Ms. Xi.
“Xi Xianqing,” the man introduced himself indifferently. “Xi Mufei is my sister.”
So that was it.
Zhu Ming’s eyes curved as he extended his hand. “Zhu Ming.”
Xi Xianqing stared at him for a moment before finally taking Zhu Ming’s hand in a brief, light handshake.
Their hands barely touched with empty grips before parting.
The overhead light shifted with their movements, and something glinted from the cuff of Xi Xianqing’s suit sleeve. Focusing his gaze, Zhu Ming saw it was a lustrous white mother-of-pearl cufflink, framed with rose gold.
Attention to detail often reveals one’s innate taste. No wonder he was from District Six—elegant in both name and appearance to the finest degree.
Zhu Ming, dressed in a loose cotton sweatshirt, found the contrast rather amusing.
There was an old saying on Xi Star that summed up each district: “One Military, Two Food, Three Body, Four Recreation, Five Education, Six Aesthetics, Seven Research,” referring to the cultural focus of each of the planet’s seven districts, each practicing autonomous governance.
The “Six Aesthetics” represented District Six, renowned for its connection to aesthetics and design, while “Seven Research” referred to District Seven, home to cutting-edge technology and scientific inquiry.
Zhu Ming was born in the snowy District Seven.
—Scientists and engineers were the pride of his district; the pursuit of ultimate intelligence was most people’s lifelong goal. In District Seven, anyone you ran into had a 50% chance of being a researcher at a university.
In contrast, District Six was located in the rainy, humid western region.
Beautiful surroundings nurtured people who love beauty; District Six prioritized aesthetics and creativity, producing top artists and designers without exception.
Scientists and artists occupied entirely different worlds, and with such vast geographical and cultural differences, the residents of District Six and District Seven were practically from two different realms.
Aside from live streaming, this was also Zhu Ming’s first time interacting with someone from District Six in real life.
Zhu Ming glanced at the door. Apart from the wall of bodyguards, there was only one person outside who looked like a driver or assistant. “So, Ms. Xi herself is…?”
Xi Xianqing: “She’s temporarily unwell and couldn’t make it to today’s meeting.”
Zhu Ming maintained a smile, though he found it odd. If the sister couldn’t make it, why would the younger brother come in her place for the blind date? Was he here to check things out on her behalf?
“I see. No problem, health is always the priority.”
He was still smiling, “By the way, would you like to order something? I noticed their signature dish is salt-crusted chicken. How about we start with that—”
Zhu Ming saw Xi Xianqing’s gaze drift lightly over the menu.
“That won’t be necessary,” Xi Xianqing replied, moving his gaze away the next moment. “Due to dietary safety concerns, I generally avoid eating out.”
Zhu Ming: “?”
Xi Xianqing didn’t give him a moment to react. “Mr. Zhu, are you in a hurry to get married?”
It took Zhu Ming a moment to recover from the shock of the ‘dietary safety concerns.’ “…Yes ah, very much.”
Xi Xianqing frowned. “Even if the other party is someone you’ve never met?”
“I’m not picky. After all, in my situation, I’m hardly expecting the luxury of true love.”
Zhu Ming lowered his gaze, adopting a look of sorrow and regret. “As you can see, I have mobility issues, and my job isn’t stable. So, my aunt’s biggest hope right now is for someone to be there to support and care for me. And my family’s wish is my biggest wish now, so…”
He didn’t say everything outright, but he knew he’d conveyed his point. Any further and it would be overdone.
The previous people he’d met for blind dates had all been scared off like this, and he was confident today’s would be the same. No reasonable younger brother would want his sister to marry a disabled, jobless man who was essentially looking for a caretaker.
Sure enough, Xi Xianqing’s brow remained tightly furrowed, his expression growing colder.
When his patience seemed to finally wear out, he stood up, appearing unwilling to stay a moment longer.
Zhu Ming put on an innocent, bewildered expression, planning to watch Xi Xianqing leave and silently celebrate the failure of his last arranged meeting.
Unexpectedly, Xi Xianqing didn’t head straight for the exit but instead took a few steps closer, stopping right in front of Zhu Ming.
“With my understanding of my sister’s character,” Xi Xianqing said with a slight lift of his chin, “your three views differ vastly from hers. She would never marry someone like you.”
Though unpleasant to hear, he was undoubtedly a qualified younger brother.
Zhu Ming silently praised him in his heart.
“I understand your concerns as her younger brother, Mr. Xiao Xi.”
Zhu Ming feigned regret and spoke gently. “Different values—this was just a blind date, and fate hasn’t arrived yet. I won’t pursue Ms. Xi further.”
Xi Xianqing stopped right before Zhu Ming, they were extremely close at the moment.
Zhu Ming didn’t enjoy communicating with others from this position; after all, he couldn’t stand, he was always forced to look up.
Out of courtesy, though, he still met Xi Xianqing’s gaze—and under the light’s reflection, he noticed the striking green of the young man’s eyes, a deep, gem-like shade exuding a chill, elegant glint.
—But for a fleeting moment, Zhu Ming caught a barely noticeable hint in those eyes—something mixed with a trace of hesitation and… embarrassment.
“But if you want a marriage so desperately.”
He saw Xi Xianqing turn his face slightly away, speaking with calm arrogance, “I can marry you.”
Author’s Notes:
Hello, everyone! Here are some things to keep in mind while reading:
- Gong Xi Xianqing X Shou Zhu Ming. The shou’s leg will recover in the later stages, and the gong is a proud, sharp-tongued tsundere with a peac0ck-like attitude—his ego is sky-high, but his words may still be stubborn. Readers who aren’t fond of this bite of treasure, please read with caution.
- All scientific principles related to mental manifestation in this story are fabricated by the author. I’ll try to make them seem reasonable, but they won’t be entirely realistic.
- This story [is not suitable for readers with any specific preferences]. If you have a one-sided preference, there’s a [high probability] that you’ll be disappointed, so proceed accordingly. Any conflicts or provocations in the comments will lead to blocking and reporting.
- The author’s writing skills are quite limited. This story is an attempt to venture beyond my comfort zone in terms of character and plot themes, so please keep your expectations reasonable. Orz
Overall, I wish you all a happy reading ^_^!
Jie Jie: New project! Similar to the author, this would also be my first time translating a different genre from my usual ones I picked so far. I also haven’t finished reading this, lol. Update: I have already finished reading this. When I first posted this way back, I already read half of the novel’s chapters. So, I can say now that this is just a quick read with enough drama and sweetness! Anyway, hope you like it~
Next chapter will be posted next week! Thanks! :blobsnuggle:
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