Zhu Ming’s newly developed medicine was designed to enhance the neural and mental pathways between Xi Xianqing and his spiritual manifestation, strengthening his control over it and ultimately enabling Dish Soap to spread its tail feathers.

At this moment, the green peac0ck in the living room was furiously flapping its wings, its beady eyes glaring in anger as it dragged its beautiful tail feathers and flew erratically, crashing into things at random.

This proved that the drug had indeed caused some reaction in the feathers.

—It just wasn’t the feathers Zhu Ming intended.

A peac0ck’s feathers are divided into flight feathers and tail feathers. The short, brown flight feathers located at the front of the body are primarily used for flying.

On the other hand, the familiar tail feathers are vibrant, elegant plumes with large eye-shaped patterns, mainly used for courtship displays in nature. As a spiritual manifestation, these feathers could typically be controlled to fan open at the owner’s will.

Back in the present, Zhu Ming looked up at the sweat-soaked face of the handsome young man in front of him.

What Zhu Ming wanted to see movement in were the tail feathers. Yet, it was the flight feathers that had gone berserk.

Why was this happening?

More importantly, this particular formula shouldn’t have caused any adverse effects. The reaction from the spiritual manifestation was unexpectedly strong—so much so that it seemed… slightly out of control.

“The medicine dosage was already as minimal as possible. I even tried it on myself once—there shouldn’t have been this kind of reaction.”

Muttering to himself, Zhu Ming grabbed Xi Xianqing’s arm and began investigating possible causes. “After taking the medicine, how long before you felt something was wrong? Did you take it with any other medication? Did you drink alcohol?”

“It started about half an hour after I took it. I didn’t drink anything, and I didn’t take any other medication.”

Sweat dripped from Xi Xianqing’s brow down to his jawline. He frowned deeply, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to force his words out through gritted teeth. “…And then this happened.”

Clearly uncomfortable, he couldn’t help but growl in frustration, “What kind of quack doctor are you?”

Zhu Ming wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Where exactly is it uncomfortable? Describe it to me.”

Xi Xianqing glared at him, “Everywhere is uncomfortable.”

“…” Zhu Ming was usually most afraid of this kind of patient, “What kind of discomfort are we talking about? Be specific. Is it pain? Nausea? Dizziness?”

Normally meticulous about his appearance, Xi Xianqing now found himself in an uncharacteristically disheveled state, which made his ears turn red with embarrassment. He hesitated, struggling to speak.

Only after a moment did he hoarsely squeeze out a single word: “Hot.”

“I feel like my body and the entire room suddenly became unbearably hot.”

The young man lowered his head in frustration, his chest heaving as he panted. After a moment, he seemed a bit dazed and added, “And it suddenly feels so noisy. There’s a constant buzzing sound in my ears, and the lights suddenly got so bright they’re blinding.”

Very hot, very noisy, very bright.

After Zhu Ming pondered for a moment, his eyes suddenly widened.

This was the feeling after all the sensory functions were infinitely amplified.

The Spirit Activator he developed was supposed to be safer than children’s cough syrup.

However, some medical literature did mention that for a minuscule fraction of highly sensitive individuals—one in ten thousand—such activators could cause extreme sensory amplification as a side effect. Clinical cases of this were extraordinarily rare.

It was clear that Xi Xianqing was that one in ten thousand–he was allergic.

It was over.

A wave of bitter frustration that Zhu Ming hadn’t felt in a long time washed over him. The medicine he had painstakingly developed turned out to be completely unusable for this one-in-ten-thousand allergic physique. Now, he would have to start from scratch.

Zhu Ming exhaled, raising a hand to feel Xi Xianqing’s forehead. “It shouldn’t be anything serious. Once the medicine wears off, you should be fine. But—”

He didn’t expect the person before him to still be sulking. Xi Xianqing coldly turned his face away, avoiding Zhu Ming’s hand.

Zhu Ming almost laughed out of exasperation but knew there was no point in arguing with a sick bird who was already unwell. “Look, can we temporarily pause this cold war, save a checkpoint, and resume the argument later once you’re better?”

He said, raising his hand again.

Xi Xianqing stared at his face for a while, still clearly displeased.

But after a moment, he finally looked away, lowering his head slightly and pressing his flushed face into Zhu Ming’s palm.

Zhu Ming first felt the dampness of sweat on the young man’s face, followed by the almost scalding heat of his feverish skin.

“You have a high fever,” Zhu Ming sighed.

Xi Xianqing lowered his gaze, saying nothing as he kept his face pressed against Zhu Ming’s hand.

Perhaps because Zhu Ming’s palm was cool and soft, Xi Xianqing unconsciously nuzzled against it. After a long moment, he let out a quiet, raspy “en” and asked in a low voice, “So, what do you think we should do?”

The fiery attitude wasn’t as strong as just now, and Zhu Ming softened his tone. “Alright, lie down on my bed for now.”

Xi Xianqing glanced up in dissatisfaction, as though wanting to challenge the suggestion. Before he could speak, Zhu Ming tilted his head and cut him off with a single line: “Are you the doctor, or am I the doctor?”

Xi Xiangqing: “…”

Despite his reluctance, Xi Xianqing eventually complied and lay down on the bed.

“This is just a mild allergic reaction. It hasn’t progressed to throat swelling or breathing difficulties. I can’t give you any fever-reducing medication either, in case it triggers other adverse reactions.”

Zhu Ming murmured, “So you’ll have to bear a bit with it for now. Theoretically, everything should return to normal once the medicine wears off.”

Xi Xianqing had barely settled when he sat up incredulously, exclaiming, “Bear with it? In this state? And you’re calling it mild—”

“Hear me out.”

Zhu Ming pressed a finger to his shoulder, gently pushing him back down onto the bed. “That said, since you’re clearly uncomfortable, we can take some measures to help alleviate the symptoms while waiting for the medicine to wear off.”

Only then did Xi Xianqing settle down.

He panted lightly, glaring at Zhu Ming for a moment before hoarsely spitting out a word: “Hot.”

Zhu Ming: “Understood.”

He retrieved some ice cubes from the fridge, which had been prepared by the staff, and fashioned a simple ice pack using a towel. He placed it on Xi Xianqing’s forehead. “Stay put. Don’t move.”

On the bed was the sick XI Xianqing, who was lying neatly on it with an ice pack on his head.

Outside the door, the green peac0ck was equally spent, its magnificent tail dragging lifelessly as it collapsed in a heap at the doorway, utterly motionless.

One person and one bird were both immobilized—there was something pitiful yet oddly amusing about the scene.

Zhu Ming pressed his lips together, shifting his gaze away nonchalantly as if nothing happened. “En… what else did you say was bothering you? Noisy and bright, right? Those are easy to fix.”

Zhu Ming turned off all the lights in the villa, drew the curtains, and left only a small desk lamp glowing faintly in the corner.

Then he retrieved a pair of noise-canceling earplugs and carefully inserted them into Xi Xianqing’s ears, one on each side. “There, all set. Get some rest.”

After being attended to so meticulously, the icy sharpness in Xi Xianqing’s deep green eyes finally softened a little.

He closed his eyes briefly to assess the changes. His fever had left his voice hoarse and his breathing slightly labored. “Still… uncomfortable.”

Zhu Ming was puzzled, “Where is it uncomfortable?”

Xi Xianqing fell silent again.

Zhu Ming assumed that meant there was no further issue and was just about to settle by the bedside to guard him and catch a quick nap. But then, from the bed, a voice abruptly broke the silence: “I can’t explain it.”

“Oh, come on.” Zhu Ming was really convinced. “Are you making me play guessing games now?”

With a “swoosh”, Xi Xianqing yanked the ice pack off his forehead and removed the earplugs, his expression stormy. “I took your lousy medicine and ended up like this, and that’s how you’re treating me?”

Rubbing his temples, Zhu Ming briefly considered the merits of letting this guy pass out from the fever.

Just when he wanted to say something, his gaze suddenly froze.

When Xi Xianqing first stormed in, radiating fury, Zhu Ming focused on his face during their argument.

But at this moment, Xi Xianqing was in a half-sitting position on the bed.

Xi Xianqing was always meticulous about his appearance, unlike Zhu Ming, who lived in loose, comfortable sweatpants.

His preferred trousers were tailored with exquisite fabrics and precise fits, accentuating his long, slender legs.

Because of this, when sitting, the fabric clung tightly, outlining the contours of his body with clarity.

Zhu Ming’s gaze inadvertently dropped. In the dim light, he noticed a faintly discernible bulge where the fabric was stretched taut…

His brain suddenly “buzzed”.

Following Zhu Ming’s line of sight, Xi Xianqing looked down as well and froze.

Their gazes met in midair, realization striking both at once.

If the drug’s side effects amplified all sensory functions, then it wasn’t just touch, hearing, and vision that were heightened. Naturally, the most fundamental of human physiological responses would be amplified as well…

“Zhu. Ming.”

Xi Xianqing snatched up the pillow beside him to cover himself, his glare icy and murderous. Through gritted teeth, he said, “What exactly did you put… in that medicine?”

Zhu Ming glanced at it casually again.

For the first time in his medical career, he felt a flicker of uncertainty. “I honestly didn’t expect… the medicine could have this kind of effect.”

“I advise you to stabilize your emotions first.”

He tried his best to maintain the calm, professional demeanor of a doctor. “Dish Soap just settled down, and I can’t guarantee the medicine won’t cause additional disturbances if your emotions keep fluctuating ha.”

Hearing this, Xi Xianqing stiffened, forcing himself to stay still. Frustrated, he ordered, “Then hurry up and figure something out.”

“This is actually a very good solution ah.”

Zhu Ming, striving to remain as clinical and objective as possible without any emotional coloring, said, “My bathroom is right next door. You can use it now if you want.”

Xi Xianqing remained silent for a long time. Sensing something amiss, Zhu Ming hesitantly asked, “Do you want me to step out?”

At this, Xi Xianqing flared up, sitting bolt upright. “You dare to try leaving me behind now?”

The mind of this irritable peac0ck was truly hard to fathom. Zhu Ming sighed helplessly and said, “So, are you asking me to stay? Watch you…”

He noticed Xi Xianqing deflate, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“Don’t you have any other solutions? Like some other medicine that could… suppress this?” His voice was hoarse as he kept his head down.

Zhu Ming: “?”

“There are plenty of people out there who’d kill for this kind of reaction, and here you are trying to do the opposite—”

Zhu Ming paused hesitantly. “Don’t tell me you’ve never handled this sort of thing… on your own before?”

“Of course not,” Xi Xianqing snapped, his irritation evident. Then he paused, turned his head away, and admitted in a dry voice, “I already… tried earlier. In my own room.”

“It didn’t work.” He took a deep breath, “It hasn’t been able to get down.”

Zhu Ming: “Ah?”

It was only then that Zhu Ming realized the magnitude of what he had inadvertently created—something that might very well revolutionize the entire pharmaceutical industry in District Seven.

No wonder, with Xi Xianqing’s nature, he was able to reach the point where he took the initiative to come to the door to ask for help, it was definitely not just as simple as a mere fever.

Zhu Ming exhaled slowly. “Could it be that the emotional cues or external stimuli weren’t enough? Remember those images I showed you on the light screen last time…”

Xi Xianqing shot him an icy glare, cutting him off.

Rethinking his approach, Zhu Ming pressed the ice pack back against Xi Xianqing’s neck. “Alright, here’s the plan: lie down, relax, and listen to me.”

In situations like this, brute force wouldn’t work.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he began to outline a method step by step: “First, imagine someone in your mind. This person can be your ideal type, your ultimate fantasy. In short, someone you find irresistibly attractive. He…”

Xi Xianqing’s cheeks were faintly flushed from the fever. His hoarse voice broke the silence: “I don’t have one.”

​​Zhu Ming: “… Are you kidding me?”

Xi Xianqing frowned slightly and lifted his gaze, “You did?”

Zhu Ming said strangely, “Of course.”

En, the Father of Spiritual Manifestation Genetic Research, had been dead for hundreds of years. Zhu Ming silently lamented.

“…We’re getting off track.”

Clearing his throat lightly, Zhu Ming continued his guidance. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be your ideal type. District Six has plenty of art and film works. Can’t you consider someone from there?”

Xi Xianqing looked ready to refute, but Zhu Ming had anticipated his reaction. He smiled faintly and lifted the ice pack, pressing it lightly to Xi Xianqing’s mouth. “Just listen first.”

Xi Xianqing: “…”

“It could be a movie character you find attractive or perhaps a singer whose voice matches your aesthetic.”

Zhu Ming’s tone was gentle as his gaze met Xi Xianqing’s. “Then, imagine an intense scene, something that resonates with you. Merge the two ha.”

The white fox squatted on the bedside table, its tail swaying curiously as it observed the interaction of the two people.

Xi Xianqing initially felt annoyed by Zhu Ming’s approach as if talking to a small child, but without realizing it, he found himself pulled into this warm and soft voice. His thoughts began to drift.

Someone attractive… an intense scene…

His faint breathing became rapid. Xi Xianqing felt Zhu Ming change the ice pack again and tenderly put it on the corner of his forehead.

Zhu Ming’s voice came softly near his ear. “Think about what it would be like to meet that character in real life one day. Picture the moments you’d share together…”

His pulse quickened, and his fevered breaths seemed to scorch the air. Xi Xianqing’s thoughts unconsciously followed him and slipped out of the room, beyond the living room, and beyond the villa itself.

—Returning to the shimmering, intimate setting of the swimming pool.

Drip.

Xi Xianqing saw a drop of water.

More precisely, it was a droplet that had clung to Zhu Ming’s forehead earlier that afternoon. It was from the moment they had quietly locked eyes in the pool.

The clear droplet hung precariously on Zhu Ming’s hair, slipped onto the tip of his nose, rolled down to the philtrum, and finally rested on his lightly pursed, pale lips.

He remembered how Zhu Ming had slightly turned his face at that moment, his damp lashes casting shadows as he casually licked the droplet away.

The tip of his tongue, soft and wet, swept the water into his mouth. Then, he raised a hand, hooking it around Xi Xianqing’s neck, leaning close to whisper softly in his ear, “Do me a favor and help me ashore.”

—The memory shattered as he was pulled back to reality in an instant.

The face of the person by the pool overlapped with the one before him now.

Blood surged quietly. Xi Xianqing’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and abruptly sat up straight.

He tossed the pillow covering him aside without so much as a glance at Zhu Ming and strode straight toward the adjacent bathroom without turning back.

With a loud “bang,” the door slammed shut. It wasn’t until moments later that the sound of running water trickled through the room. Zhu Ming returned to his senses, finally processing what had just transpired.

He subconsciously looked toward the door, noting that the green peac0ck, which had been lying limply by the entrance earlier, was now nowhere to be seen.

“…And he had the nerve to claim he doesn’t have an ideal type.”

Realizing what had just unfolded, Zhu Ming’s lips curved slightly as he murmured to the white fox beside him, “That reaction came pretty quickly, didn’t it?”

Author’s Notes:

<Where’s the Innocent Peac0ck Escaping, The Hot Little Tutor Fox is Here to Teach!>

The story is about to make it to the rankings. I hope everyone can leave more comments and starfish, as this will mean a lot to me ψ(｀∇´)ψ～

Jie Jie: Sorry, a bit late! I was almost away the entire week last week :blobsleepless:

Happy New Year, everyone! :googleredheart: