Everyone originally assumed he was just a timid fledgling not worth paying attention to, only to discover later that he was an unpolished gem. During his teenage years, he underwent a quiet transformation, eventually shining brilliantly.

By the time they realized it, his talents had already astonished everyone.

These family banquets were traditionally planned on a rotating basis, each host trying their best to win over the old man’s favor. This time, it was Xi Xianqing’s second uncle, Xi Hongming—who was also Xi Sen’s father—in charge of the arrangements.

The purpose of this dinner was obvious to everyone: it was a last effort to boost Xi Sen’s favorability in front of Xi Jianfeng before the upcoming assessment.

Xi Hongming’s spiritual manifestation was a loud, multicolored macaw. He had always been known for his ostentatious taste in these matters. The table was adorned with the most expensive seasonal flowers—peony chrysanthemums and fragrant orchids. Even the tea set was decorated with intricate multicolored enamel, extravagant yet perfectly in tune with the festival’s theme.

Xi Hongming earnestly said, “Father, it’s the prime season for cordyceps. Please have a taste of this soup.”

Xi Xianqing idly stirred the soup in his bowl with a spoon.

Wolfberries, don’t like them: Red dates, don’t like them: The hideous cordyceps: absolutely don’t like them.

A homemade glutinous rice lotus root inexplicably came to mind.

His hand paused for a moment, but he eventually took a sip of the soup. After all, as the dinner progressed, he’d likely need to conserve his energy for what was to come.

This family dinner was Xi Hongming’s stage, and his incessantly chattering mouth never once stopped.

He talked about art and boasted about culture. As the alcohol took effect, the conversation veered into stories of beautiful women and romantic escapades, with no regard for the fact that his wife and children were sitting right beside him.

Xi Sen, unable to conceal the disgust on her face, stood up and excused herself, saying she needed some fresh air.

A few minutes later, Xi Hongming suddenly exclaimed an ‘Aiya’. “Look at this mouth of mine, once I start talking, I just can’t stop. I’ve been going on about myself this whole time.”

“By the way, Xianqing ya,” he said, his tone deliberately pausing as if recalling something, “I saw some news this morning. It said you and someone from District Seven… are getting married?”

He paused briefly, then feigned surprise as he asked, “Is that true ya?”

“Yes ah, and I also heard that this person has some issues with mobility?”

Xi Hongming’s wife, Zhang Yuan, chimed in to back him up. “Xianqing, your parents passed away early, so only your family members can give you advice. Young people ya, are often impulsive when it comes to matters of love. But those from District Seven ya, they’re simply not on the same path as us.”

“Especially someone from District Seven who can’t even walk properly ah.” Xi Hongming emphasized with a sigh.

Their continuous remarks, made under the guise of concern, were nothing more than thinly veiled criticisms. The subtext was clear: they were portraying Xi Xianqing as a reckless fool, blinded by love.

“My parents passed away early. So, for as long as I can remember, whenever my sister and I faced difficulties, we’ve always relied on ourselves to get through them.”

Xi Xianqing faintly said, “It’s really strange. I don’t recall you ever greeting us back then. How come you’re suddenly so deeply concerned with my private life?”

Xi Hongming hadn’t expected him to push back so directly, and his face turned a shade darker. “How can you speak to your elders and family this way, all because of someone from another district?”

Xi Jianfeng’s expression remained neutral as he fiddled with the sandalwood beads in his hand. After a long silence, he finally asked, “When did you meet? And what happened to that child’s leg?”

Xi Xianqing: “I met him at the beginning of the year. He had an accident a few years ago and suffered a spinal cord injury.”

Xi Jianfeng frowned: “Why is the wedding being rushed? Have you chosen a venue?”

Xi Xianqing shook his head and replied calmly, “We’ve already committed to each other. We don’t need an elaborate ceremony—just an early promise to each other is enough.”

When these words came out, everyone was shocked.

People in District Six were notoriously particular about rituals and appearances. Even a birthday banquet would be an extravagant affair, with everyone trying to outdo each other—let alone something as significant as a wedding.

Xi Hongming instinctively sensed that something was off and quickly countered, “How can that be? Marriage is not a child’s play, it’s not something you can just brush over…”

Xi Xianqing didn’t say anything.

“You really take after your father,” Xi Jianfeng’s thumb paused on the sandalwood beads as he glanced at Xi Xianqing. “If the two of you are truly in love and trust each other, then making an early commitment is not a bad idea.”

Xi Hongming opened his mouth to argue further, but Xi Jianfeng said, “The next time that the child has time, bring them home for a meal.”

The several people on the table who were about to move suddenly lost their voices.

The phrase “bring them home” implied that Xi Jianfeng had already accepted the person as part of the family. Anyone who dared to criticize now would be a slap on his face.

Xi Xianqing was also stunned, and after a long time said, “Alright.”

The rest of the meal proceeded with everyone harboring their own thoughts. Xi Xianqing had no intention of staying longer than necessary. After dinner, he found an excuse to leave early.

As soon as he stepped outside, he ran into Xi Sen, who was taking a breath of fresh air by the window.

Xi Sen’s spirit animal was an ink-colored Jackdaw, quietly perched by her hand.

The cold Jackdaw looked at Xi Xianqing warily, then leaped onto its master’s shoulder, alerting her that someone was coming. Xi Sen turned her face to look at Xi Xianqing.

Although the two were currently the strongest contenders, it was not Xi Sen herself who actively targeted Xi Xianqing—it was mostly her father, Xi Hongming.

Now that they had encountered each other, there was a brief moment of silence, but it wasn’t filled with hostility.

“I’ll be heading to District One the day after tomorrow to begin the assessment.” Xi Sen took the initiative to break the silence. “Although it’s really my parents who are more invested in the representative position, I will respect this competition and give it my all.”

After a brief pause, she straightforwardly added, “Also, I wish you a happy wedding in advance.”

Xi Sen, a graduate of the top fashion design academy in District Six, was fully focused on developing her own high-fashion studio. She was talented, forthright, and direct.

The two of them were well-matched—worthy opponents who respected each other.

So Xi Xianqing nodded, “Thank you.”

Xi Sen nodded her head in return, brushing past him as she headed back into the private room.

Once he got into his car, his phone in his pocket vibrated. Xi Xianqing glanced down to see that Zhu Ming had sent over a document.

Zhu Ming: “Here’s the first draft of the treatment plan. Take a look.”

Almost immediately, another message followed: “Oh, right. I need you to take a photo of Dish Soap every day. I need shots from four angles, the front, back, left, and right, plus a top-down view. I’m documenting its form for a long-term experiment.”

And then came another addition: “Especially focus on the feathers around its backside—I need a close-up.”

Xi Xianqing still couldn’t quite get used to referring to it as “Dish Soap.” He responded, “…Is it really necessary to take pictures every day?”

There was a long pause before Zhu Ming replied: “I have a question.”

Xi Xianqing replied with a “?”

The opposite side didn’t send another message.

Ten seconds later, Zhu Ming directly popped over a voice message.

When Xi Xianqing played it, a soft, gentle voice came through: “Excuse me, but am I the doctor, or are you the doctor ya?”

Xi Xianqing: “…”

The final word “ya” had a playful lilt to it. Even through the screen, he could easily imagine Zhu Ming sitting in his wheelchair, eyes curved with a mischievous smile as he tauntingly looked over.

Xi Xianqing remained expressionless, his hand hovering over the text input box.

Yet, for some inexplicable reason, instead of typing a response, his fingers shifted slightly, and he sent a voice message back: “…Stop rushing me. I’m outside right now. I’ll take the pictures for you once I’m back.”

Author’s Note:

Grand Peac0ck’s criteria for food selection: won’t eat anything that isn’t exquisite, too spicy, high in fat, or ugly in appearance.

Evaluation of the Little Fox’s household meals: simple, but just barely edible.