The sound of running water in the bathroom hadn’t ceased.
Recalling the fleeting glimpse of that figure earlier, Zhu Ming couldn’t help but marvel at how well-developed young people were these days. It didn’t seem like things would conclude anytime soon.
Feeling awkward just sitting idly, Zhu Ming spaced out for a moment before heading to the kitchen to prepare a new ice pack.
As a meticulous researcher, he was always ready to document every minute change in his experimental subjects. He didn’t forget to take out the light screen and quickly recorded this rather extraordinary discovery.
Earlier, Zhu Ming had reviewed various documents and compiled the details of the peac0ck spirit’s physical structure and potential treatment methods into a folder titled “How To Use Xi Xiangqing’s Feathers.”
However, considering the possibility of losing the notebook, which could expose the embarrassing fact that District Six’s future representative’s spiritual manifestation couldn’t get up, he discreetly renamed the folder to “How To Use His Feathers.”
[Research Subject]: Dish Soap.
[Current Observational Fluctuations]: The flying feathers responded with high-intensity feedback, almost out of control. No visible movement was detected in the tail feathers.
[Medication Administered]: 2ml of Spirit Activator, initially determined to cause a mild allergic reaction. Future treatment should explore other potential targets.
Just then, the bathroom door was pushed open from the inside.
Warm steam wafted into the bedroom as Xi Xianqing stepped out, his hair still damp and wearing a bathrobe. The two men’s gazes met and clashed for a brief moment before swiftly averting.
A faint awkwardness filled the silence.
Xi Xianqing’s ears were still burning red, and his cheeks and neck flushed as if he’d had a strong drink. However, his eyes appeared clearer, indicating that the relief had been somewhat effective.
If it were an ordinary clinical patient, Zhu Ming could have straightforwardly asked, “Did it work?” or even more bluntly, “Did it come out?”
But this particular individual’s pride was no joke.
After carefully sifting through his vocabulary, Zhu Ming tentatively asked, “Do you… feel a bit better now?”
Xi Xianqing didn’t say anything. He continued drying his hair with a towel, casting him a sidelong glance.
Zhu Ming knew it was useless to press further, so he used his eyes to seek answers.
He discreetly glanced at Xi Xianqing’s lower body, confirming that the storm had passed, he finally breathed a sigh of relief. He jotted something down on the light screen.
With that, he once again raised his hand.
Xi Xianqing looked at him, hesitated for a moment, and then reluctantly put down the towel. He bent down slightly and pressed his face back into Zhu Ming’s palm, though with visible reluctance.
Zhu Ming assessed the situation. “En, your body temperature has dropped a bit, but it seems like you still have a slight fever.”
Xi Xianqing cast him a sharp glance through the damp strands of his hair. “And it’s not thanks to you.”
Zhu Ming, nearly immune to his sarcastic tone by now, got straight to the point. “By the way, do you want to stay the night?”
Xi Xianqing’s eyes snapped up, “…What?”
“After all, I’m the one who caused the medical incident. As a doctor, I should at least take full responsibility tonight.”
Zhu Ming’s finger slid on the light screen a few times and sighed. “Of course, it’s also to prevent you from making any noise in the middle of the night and banging on my door again.”
“Stay,” he said.
And so, the newlyweds spent their first night sharing a bed after marriage.
—Only separated by a distance as great as the sea.
Xi Xianqing, cheeks flushed with fever, lay rigidly on the left side of the bed with a cold pack on his head. Zhu Ming lay comfortably on the right side, keeping a watchful eye on the condition of this big sick bird.
To prevent any new movements from occurring, the room remained softly lit by a bedside lamp.
The slight coolness seeping out of the ice pack did little to quell the restless thoughts swirling in Xi Xianqing’s mind.
He finally couldn’t hold back and glanced to his side.
—Only to find the very doctor who had insisted on “taking full responsibility” now breathing steadily, his eyes peacefully closed, already resembling Zhou Gong.1The God of Dreams. It also meant that he was already deep in his slumber.
Xi Xianqing: “…?”
What an utterly unprofessional amazing doctor.
Between them, a white fox lay sprawled across the two people’s pillows, its eyes closed in bliss, mirroring its owner’s contentment. The fluffy, snowy tip of its tail twitched occasionally, either idly or intending to hook people.
Fragments of earlier events in the bathroom flashed through Xi Xianqing’s mind once more, leaving him agitated. He turned over decisively, refusing to look at the man and fox beside him.
The moment he turned over, his gaze landed on something atop the nightstand, making him pause.
After a moment, he looked away and lay flat on his back again.
—Not before casting another silent glance at the sleeping person beside him.
After another five seconds, Xi Xianqing held his breath, twisted his head, and once again looked toward the object on the nightstand.
As if drawn by some invisible force, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his hand moved involuntarily toward the sensory glove on the nightstand, and silently tugged one off.
After scrutinizing it for a moment, he recalled the method of Zhu Ming’s earlier explanation about “transferring spiritual energy to the fingertips to interact with a spiritual manifestation” when he examined Dish Soap.
Driven by an inexplicable impulse, Xi Xianqing tentatively slid his right hand into the glove.
Clenching his hand lightly into a fist, he looked at the white fox lying on the pillow.
His hand hung in the air for a long time, trying to condense his spiritual energy, and after a short while, he paused and gently brushed his fingertips against the fox’s soft, fluffy tail.
The moment he touched the tail, Xi Xianqing’s hand jerked back as though shocked by electricity, his knuckles twitching oddly in mid-air, almost as if savoring the sensation.
His Adam’s apple shifted again. This time, Xi Xianqing lowered his hand once more—not just his fingertips but his entire palm.
He touched the white fox’s tail again, then his body experienced a warm, solid, vivid, magical touch that couldn’t be described in words.
—That was when a soft voice sounded. “Does it feel good to touch?”
Xi Xianqing: “…!?”
He jerked his head up to see the person who had been sleeping soundly moments ago on his side, opened his side at some point. Zhu Ming’s half-lidded eyes gleamed with amusement, his hand propping up his face as he leisurely stared at him.
Xi Xianqing’s mind spun in a split second.
Pulling his hand away now would only make him look guilty. After a brief pause, Xi Xianqing raised his hand, feigning nonchalance. “It’s just okay.”
Zhu Ming didn’t have any other reaction.
He glanced down at the white fox on the pillow, his lashes lowering slightly as his lips curved into a smile. “While the tail does seem the best to touch, you might also want to try the ears. Others have said that they’re unexpectedly pleasant to the touch.”
The white fox lay quietly between the two as if it understood the conversation, it meekly stared at Xi Xianqing’s face.
Its eyes were round and shiny black, and just above them, a pair of sharp, furry ears came into view…
Xi Xianqing averted his gaze
He yanked off the glove and lay back down, perfectly straight. “…Not interested.”
Zhu Ming raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He yawned lazily and reached out casually to feel Xi Xianqing’s forehead. “En, the fever’s mostly gone now.”
He said, “Looks like the drug’s effects have almost worn off.”
Out of nowhere, the person beside him asked, “Have you let others touch it before?”
Zhu Ming didn’t immediately catch his meaning. When he realized Xi Xianqing was talking about his spiritual manifestation, he replied matter-of-factly, “Of course la.”
There was another silence, “Who?”
“My aunt.”
The air returned to a long stretch of silence. Zhu Ming’s eyelids grew heavier, and he nestled further under the blanket.
Just as he was about to drift off, the person beside him abruptly spoke again. “Why… aren’t you asleep yet?”
“Hm,” Zhu Ming mumbled vaguely, “because I’m thinking about you.”
Beside him suddenly quieted down.
Zhu Ming sighed softly, a tinge of melancholy in his voice. “We can’t use the Spirit Activator medicine anymore in the future—it’s going to make things a lot harder.”
He shifted his position, staring up at the ceiling, and yawned again. “There are still a few backup medications to try, but with just one month left before the photo shoot, time’s tight. Looks like I’ll have to drag Zhou Zhou into overtime work ah…”
His eyelids drooped further as Zhu Ming’s voice grew softer, eventually fading into near silence.
The room quieted down, and he once again fell into a sweet dream.
After an unknown amount of time, Xi Xianqing wordlessly turned his face and stared at the side of the person beside him, “Zhu Ming?”
The person beside him breathed evenly, his expression was peaceful. There were truly no movements this time.
Xi Xianqing’s Adam’s apple bobbed faintly as he calmly stared at the ceiling.
A moment later, a rustling sound rang out.
Xi Xianqing retrieved the sensory glove hidden under the blanket. Silently, he slipped his hand back into it, channeling spiritual energy to his fingertips as he took a deep breath.
Curling his fingers slightly, he turned his gaze to the white fox on the pillow.
Lifting his hand, his fingertips brushed against the white, soft tip of the fox’s ear—
A gentle pinch.
After one night, the effects of the Spirit Activator had completely dissipated.
Dish Soap returned to its usual haughty demeanor, head held high, with its tail as unresponsive as ever. Xi Xianqing, however, kept his silence about what had transpired that night.
Zhu Ming, on the other hand, seemed unable to get over this hurdle. He stayed holed up in the lab pod for several days straight.
Zhu-District Seven’s First Perfect Score Medical Exam-Former Popular Representative Candidate-Ming was finally forced to admit that he had hit the first major stumbling block of his research career.
“So, it’s not the medicine—it’s just that you happen to be one of the unlucky one-in-ten-thousand cases prone to an allergic reaction.”
He had scoured all the relevant literature and finally compiled a meticulous review to prove he wasn’t a quack. “Look, it’s written here. Especially in young, vigorous males, these symptoms might occur.”
The incident from that night was already an awkward topic, yet Zhu Ming brought it up repeatedly with a calm expression as if it were a casual observation.
Xi Xianqing’s ears turned faintly red as irritation brewed within him. “Enough, I get it. Just hurry up and develop a new medicine.”
This inexplicable cold war, sparked by the remarkably potent drug, was inadvertently saved like a file but never revisited again.
Zhu Ming buried himself in the lab pod for several days, carefully analyzing allergens, recalibrating dosages, and producing several new formulations.
After Xi Xianqing took it, he didn’t experience any more peculiar side effects. However, Dish Soap’s tail feathers remained stubbornly unresponsive.
There wasn’t much time left for them.
Before long, it was time for Xi Xianqing’s third and final meeting with Shen Ying.
The night before the meeting, while Zhu Ming was tidying up his desk after drawing blood from Xi Xianqing, his eyes fell on a set of schematics laid out on the desk. “Is this… the finished design you’re planning to show Shen Ying tomorrow?”
“Part of it,” Xi Xianqing picked up another sheet of semi-transparent tracing paper. He layered the two sheets together. “This is the complete design.”
Zhu Ming took a closer look, then nodded in understanding with a knowing smile. “So that’s how it is.”
Early the next morning, Xi Xianqing and his team headed to Shen Ying’s restaurant for their final meeting to discuss the project drafts.
Zhu Ming was bitterly nestled in the living room poring over research papers.
It was drizzling outside. Just as Zhu Ming was starting to doze off, the doorbell rang.
He opened the door to find an unexpected visitor.
Ji Rong stood there, her curly, fluffy hair dampened and disheveled by the rain. Behind her, her black sheep spiritual manifestation was shivering.
She clutched two large paper bags and blushed deeply the moment her eyes met Zhu Ming’s.
“Dr. Zhu.” She mumbled, “I… came to apologize.”
Zhu Ming hurriedly opened the door. “Come in, don’t catch a cold.”
“When I met with you2italicized you = formal way. twice before, I yelled at you every time.”
Ji Rong sniffled, then held out the bulging paper bags in her hands to Zhu Ming’s face. “I’m sorry.”
Zhu Ming was stunned and took it, discovering it was two warm, freshly-made pancakes.
It was only ten in the morning, and considering the long journey from the foot of the mountain to the seaside, these pancakes were likely prepared by this girl early morning specifically for this occasion.
Ji Rong pressed her lips together, and the black sheep behind her obediently lowered its head along with her. “The medicine you gave me, I’ve been taking it regularly. It really works well.”
“I know I’m sick, but I just… never wanted to admit it.” She said in a small voice.
“That’s not true.”
Zhu Ming spoke gently, “Taking medicine doesn’t necessarily mean you’re sick. When emotions in your heart can’t be properly expressed and reflected in one’s mental state, medication can help relieve it. But that doesn’t mean you’re an unhealthy person.”
Ji Rong stared blankly at Zhu Ming’s face for a moment. “You… you’re3The first you she said was in formal way (您) while the second-where she changed it, was the casual you (你). so eloquent. No wonder you’re a professional physician from District Seven.”
“I’m just a shopkeeper from a small store in District Two.” Her hands unconsciously fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “I haven’t seen much of the world and have never been outside District Two. Other than tourists, I rarely have a chance to interact with scientists from District Seven.”
“I’ve barely even visited resorts like this one in the mountains of District Two.”
She looked around the interior of the villa and broke into a grin. “Such a high-class, beautiful place—it’s no wonder everyone loves it. If they had the means, who’d want to stay by the seaside every day?”
Zhu Ming wordlessly frowned.
“High-end restaurants may serve exquisite and elegant dishes, but eating them every day would only lead to boredom.”
He said softly, “The warm, unique charm of real life is often only found in humble little shops.”
Ji Rong kept her head down. After a moment, she let out a muffled “Mm.”
She suddenly quieted down and stopped talking, Zhu Ming felt a little strange.
Just as he was about to ask, he noticed the girl’s shoulders start trembling. Even the black sheep behind her twitched its butt and began shaking in small, rhythmic shivers.
…Oh no.
Zhu Ming sighed in his heart.
Sure enough, when Ji Rong looked up again, her large eyes were brimming with tears. She pouted, looking at Zhu Ming pitifully. “Wu ah—”
She looked around the interior decor of the villa, tears streaming down her face. “Wuwu… Such a beautiful house like this—just a month’s rent could probably buy up our entire snack street, right? Wuwuwu…”
While the owner sobbed uncontrollably, the little black sheep behind her hung its head as well, black manifested cotton wool fell from its body like a torrential storm.
Zhu Ming: “…”
He suddenly thought of something. He silently reached for the sensor gloves on the table, bent slightly, and discreetly pinched a piece of the falling cotton wool between his fingertips, placing it into a sample bag.
Then exhaling a breath, he softly consoled, “Don’t cry.”
Ji Rong couldn’t control herself at all and continued wailing, “It’s true—opening your own restaurant in a resort like this and gaining recognition from representatives must be the life most people dream of, right?”
Zhu Ming: “You should—”
“It was my fault for kicking you and your lover out of the store last time.”
Ji Rong sobbed profusely, tears cascading like a fountain. “It’s just, whenever I hear that name, I can’t keep my emotions in check wuwu… We’re from completely different worlds, yet she had to force her way into my life, only to then…”
“—No more crying.” Zhu Ming took a deep breath, raised his voice, and interrupted her directly. “If you stop crying right now, I’ll take you to a restaurant up the mountain for lunch.”
Ji Furry’s hand wiping her tears gave a strange pause.
Even the black sheep’s shedding slowed noticeably. Ji Rong stared straight at Zhu Ming. “You… You’re not talking about that restaurant…”
With a huff, she added sourly, “I don’t even want to go there anyway.”
Zhu Ming: “Well, if you don’t want to go, we won’t. We can still enjoy the pancakes instead.”
Ji Rong stiffened, sniffled, and muttered, “But if you really want to go, then I guess I…”
Suddenly remembering something, Ji Rong pouted again. “Besides, they have that exclusive member reservation system. One can’t book a table unless it’s three months in advance. How are we supposed to—”
Zhu Ming made a “shh” gesture and took out his phone in his pocket.
“No more crying.”
He pointed at his phone screen and grinned slyly. “Let me ask my lover to see if we can skip the line.”
Author’s Notes:
Certain Someone: I didn’t originally want to touch them, but since he took the initiative to invite me, I reluctantly agreed to do it. Still, I must state that I have no interest in fluffy ears. It was purely because of his invitation—rejecting it felt a bit too cold-hearted. That’s the only reason I ended up touching them.
Xiao Zhu (grinning): So, does it feel good to touch?
Certain Someone: …Not bad.
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