Although they had only kissed three times, Zhu Ming meticulously recorded every detail of each kiss—the location, duration, and the differences in Dish Soap’s display behavior.

This was to ensure that if any anomalies occurred in the display later on, he would have enough data samples for analysis.

And he did find a very small pattern.

That is, as the number of kisses increased, Dish Soap’s display speed and efficiency seemed to weaken.

For instance, their first accidental kiss at the c0cktail party had an impressive effect that lasted well into the next afternoon, allowing the green peac0ck to fan out its tail in the garden with remarkable smoothness.

However, after their second kiss upon exiting the game, Dish Soap’s display wilted midway, showing signs of lag and mild lethargy—far less seamless than the first time.

The third time at the zoo had been relatively smooth, but in hindsight, Zhu Ming had been startled and had bitten Xi Xianqing. In terms of sensory stimulation, that experience was significantly more intense than the previous two.

This led Zhu Ming to a hypothesis about medicine resistance.

“In simpler terms,” Zhu Ming pointed at the green peac0ck curled up weakly in the bathtub, “it may no longer be satisfied with the physiological stimulation of a mere lip-to-lip touch.”

Xi Xianqing’s eyebrows twitched, “What should we do then?”

“Increase the dosage, or perhaps change the medicine.”

Zhu Ming said, “Given that your current situation is rather urgent, developing a new medicine isn’t realistic. My current suggestion is the former.”

Their previous kisses had all been nothing more than the simplest lip-to-lip. Xi Xianqing wasn’t foolish—he understood what “increasing the dosage” implied.

After a moment of seemingly calm silence, Xi Xianqing said, “Then… I’ll follow your lead.”

Zhu Ming sighed softly, lifted a hand to brush aside a strand of hair from Xi Xianqing’s forehead, and said in a gentle voice, “The medicine is right here. Take as much dosage as you need.”

Xi Xianging narrowed his eyes slightly—he actually somewhat enjoyed the feeling of Zhu Ming touching his hair.

But after hearing the entire sentence, he quickly schooled his expression, looking at Zhu Ming with a proud gaze. “How am I supposed to know how much to increase the dosage?”

“If you don’t know, then I do.”

“But you’re the doctor.”

To put it bluntly, neither of them wanted to make the first move because they both understood that what they were about to do was, to some extent, crossing a line.

Zhu Ming let out a sigh, as if utterly resigned. Knowing that time was running out, he didn’t hesitate any longer. He reached up, grabbed Xi Xianqing’s tie, and pulled him in, pressing his lips against his once more.

He hooked the tip of his wet, soft tongue lightly over Xi Xianqing’s lips, a fleeting touch like a dragonfly skimming the water.

Xi Xianqing’s body abruptly trembled for a moment. His expression didn’t change much, but after a moment, his teeth parted ever so slightly, as if welcoming whatever Zhu Ming intended to do next.

However, Zhu Ming’s next move was—no move at all. He stopped, pulling back just enough distance between them, and said softly, “Just like that. Increase the dosage bit by bit. Got it?”

It was as if he had held the medicine and fed it to Xi Xianqing’s lips, just dipping his lips into it, only to suddenly pull the spoon away and place it in Xi Xianqing’s own hands, telling him to take it himself.

Xi Xianqing coldly stared at his face.

The distance between the two was close, Zhu Ming curved his eyes slightly, tilting his head with an innocent expression. “Mr. Xiao Xi, you’re the one who needs the plumes to open. I can’t be the one hand-feeding you the medicine every time—“

He didn’t get a chance to finish that sentence because this particularly bad-tempered patient had already lowered his head to take the medicine himself.

At first, there was a trace of triumphant mischief in Zhu Ming’s gaze, but the moment his chin was gripped and tilted upward, his teeth pried open by Xi Xianging’s unceremonious tongue一he suddenly found it hard to keep smiling.

This was retaliation.

Unlike the previous lip-to-lip kisses, this time, it was a full-on entanglement of lips and teeth, carried out with an unreasonably aggressive sense of revenge—Zhu Ming’s body instinctively leaned back, and his back collided heavily with the cold mirror.

Xi Xianqing’s kiss was reckless, inexperienced, and completely unstructured, making it difficult for Zhu Ming to respond properly.

The rustling of fabric, the mingling of chaotic breaths—he felt a faint dizziness creeping in, knowing it was a sign of oxygen deprivation from not being able to breathe.

He pressed his hand against Xi Xianqing’s chest, trying to create some distance.

Xi Xianqing’s response was to firmly grip his wrist, pulling both of Zhu Ming’s hands back, giving him no chance to catch his breath.

—Breathing became increasingly difficult. Zhu Ming was reaching his limit. His hands were restrained, leaving him with no choice but to instinctively lift his leg and kick Xi Xianqing in the stomach.

Then Zhu Ming suddenly froze.

Xi Xianqing, too engrossed in drinking his medicine, didn’t notice anything amiss. He merely furrowed his brows in displeasure after being kicked.

If Zhu Ming used his hands, Xi Xianqing would grab his wrists and pull them back. If Zhu Ming used his legs, then Xi Xianqing would simply grip his thigh directly.

In short, after giving the kiss a successful conclusion, Xi Xianqing straightened up.

Only then did he realize what had just happened. He released his hand from Zhu Ming’s leg and asked, saying in shock, “Just now did your leg—”

Zhu Ming, nearly slumped against the sink, was too weak to form a coherent sentence.

He gasped for breath, staring blankly at the bathroom ceiling, his eyes somewhat unfocused. After a long pause, he finally managed to speak with difficulty. “You… You’re pretty damn strong ah, Xi Xianqing…”

His voice was unbearably hoarse. Xi Xianqing felt his ears burning as he reached out to pull Zhu Ming up.

Zhu Ming rested his forehead lightly against Xi Xianqing’s chest, catching his breath for a long while before finally lifting his head. “I definitely kicked you just now. And I think… I kicked you pretty hard.”

After a long pause, Xi Xianqing replied dryly, “After going back, you should immediately go to the hospital for rehab.”

Zhu Ming let out a soft “mm.” His forehead was messy with stray strands of hair, his lips soft and slightly reddened, and the lingering sheen in his eyes was both dazzling and clear.

His eyelashes fluttered slightly, as if he were staring at his own legs—or perhaps, still struggling to process everything that had just happened.

Xi Xianqing was momentarily dazed. He forcibly averted his gaze, but then caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror behind Zhu Ming.

—More precisely, a face that looked… reluctant to part.

Xi Xianqing’s pupils contracted sharply. He took a silent step back.

Neither of them dared to look at each other directly.

After a long pause, Zhu Ming finally raised his head and glanced over Xi Xianqing’s shoulder toward the bathtub, smiling. “See? Increasing the dosage really did work.”

Following his gaze, Xi Xianqing finally noticed the green peac0ck standing proudly at the edge of the tub, its tail fully fanned out without anyone knowing when it had happened.

As its owner looked over, the peac0ck blinked its beady eyes, perked up its butt, and began spinning in a flawless 360-degree turn.

Xi Xianqing withdrew his gaze after a long moment. “…I should get going.”

Zhu Ming nodded and raised his hand. “Come here for a second.”

Xi Xianqing looked at him and stepped forward. Zhu Ming buttoned the top two undone buttons of his shirt and adjusted the position of his tie.

Zhu Ming smiled and lowered his hand, saying, “Go ahead.”

Xi Xianqing’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly.

In the end, he didn’t meet Zhu Ming’s gaze. He simply gave a somewhat hurried nod, turned around, grabbed the suit jacket dr4p3d over the edge of the bathtub, and strode out of the bathroom.

The bathroom door was closed and Zhu Ming stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a breath.

After an unknown amount of time, he raised his hand and touched his slightly burning cheeks with the back of his hand. A moment later, he turned his face slightly, staring straight into the mirror.

“…Zhu Ming,” he murmured his own name. “What exactly are you trying to cure now?”

After three months, Xi Xianqing’s social media account updated again.

The post, just like when he had gone to District Two for his assessment, contained three photos with no accompanying caption.

The first two images were relatively casual: one showed a bright yellow robot holding two trays of teriyaki rice, while the other featured two gaming pods and a bookshelf packed with game discs.

But the final image was a completed piece from his recent work in District Four.

This piece quickly sparked heated discussions among the fashion and jewelry circles in District Six—because Xi Xianqing had stepped into a field he had rarely ventured into before: a pair of wristwatches.

The watches were a matching couple’s design, both made of 18k white gold, with round-cut diamonds encrusting the bezels—nothing particularly groundbreaking at first glance.

But the true highlight lay in the romantic storytelling of the watch dials.

The dials featured an enamel micro-painting. The one for Tan Yu with its mother-of-pearl dial, outlines a street in the light blue sky, with a red-brick pub on the side. A wooden sign hung on the door.

The one designed for Feng Jiachi, on the other hand, featured deep sapphire and black spinel to depict the night sky. Below, an enamel micro-painting outlined a streetlamp and a road, with a small, humble food stall on the far left, shrouded in the hazy, warm glow of cooking smoke.

—This detail became the most controversial place for outsiders. Some people argued that the miniature architectural paintings were nothing more than Xi Xianqing showing off his skills, making the design overly intricate and inconsistent with the refined aesthetic of luxury timepieces.

But keen-eyed observers speculated that these two locations were personally significant to the two representatives of District Four.

Their suspicions were reinforced when media cameras captured the exact moment the watches were unveiled at the gala—Tan Yu and Feng Jiachi both looked up simultaneously and exchanged a knowing smile.

Yet the true highlight of the design was in the watch hands—Instead of traditional hands, the minute hand took the form of a Tibetan mastiff crafted from black onyx, while the hour hand was a Maine cat cut from white opal.

Abandoning the conventional timekeeping module, Xi Xianqing’s team collaborated with a century-old watchmaker in District Six to develop a double retrograde mechanism, meticulously orchestrating the movement of the cat and dog across the dial.

Every night at precisely midnight, the Maine cat and the Tibetan mastiff would briefly meet at the center of the road—only to part ways again after a minute.

Each encounter was a carefully engineered moment, painstakingly designed by the creators and artisans.

Day after day, night after night, as time flowed on, they would always reunite at the starting point.

During the group photo session at the reception where the finished product was finally displayed, the media also finally captured Xi Xianqing’s spiritual manifestation with their cameras.

The green peac0ck’s dark green-scaled neck shimmered under the lights, its magnificent tail fully fanned out as it preened and strutted proudly in front of the flashing cameras—an unmistakable sign of its owner’s excellent mood.

No matter what, Xi Xianqing’s journey in District Four had ultimately concluded on a perfect note.

The first thing Xi Xianqing did upon leaving District Four was not anything else but to drag Zhu Ming straight to the rehabilitation clinic in District Seven—where he underwent a thorough rehabilitation.

It was also during this rehabilitation session that they realized Zhu Ming’s legs’ recovery had progressed far beyond the single kick he had managed in the bathroom.

With the exoskeleton device strapped on at the clinic, Zhu Ming was able to walk independently for an extended period without any assistance from Xi Xianqing.

Even without the machine’s support, he could use the rehabilitation area’s handrails to barely manage standing on his own for a while.

This indicated significant recovery in both his spinal nerves and leg muscles. Although he was still some distance away from walking normally, for Zhu Ming, this progress was something he hadn’t even dared to dream of before.

Dr. Wu was equally astonished by his improvement. “It’s really strange—this medication is effective, but most patients don’t recover as quickly as you.”

Zhu Ming chuckled. “Maybe it’s because I’ve been traveling a lot lately. In a good mood, good health naturally followed suit.”

Dr. Wu shook his head with a smile. “I’ll slightly increase your dosage this time. Try to come in at least once a week for treatment. But aren’t you traveling again soon? With that frequency…”

“No problem.”

This time, Xi Xianqing answered for him from behind. “He’ll be spending most of his time in District Six and District Seven from now on. It’ll be easy for him to get here.”

Zhu Ming innocently shrugged towards Dr. Wu.

After the infusion, Xi Xianqing took Zhu Ming home.

As they moved along the garden path toward the villa’s entrance, Zhu Ming said, “If my sessions are this frequent, you don’t have to accompany me every time. I’m at least an independent adult …”

Xi Xianqing’s response was immediate. “Not happening.”

“Very overbearing ah.”

Stopping his wheelchair in front of the house, Zhu Ming smiled. “Alright, I’m home.”

Xi Xianqing let out a “hmm”.

It was somewhat strange—after spending the past two months holed up in District Four, they had grown used to casually ordering food, watching TV together, and sharing a bed while fighting over a single blanket.

Now, for the first time in two months, neither took the initiative to say goodbye.

Zhu Ming quietly looked at Xi Xianqing’s face for a moment. “So? Want to stay for dinner? My aunt has been wanting to meet you.”

Xi Xianqing seemed hesitant for a moment but ultimately shook his head. “Next time. I need to go home and check on my sister first.”

Zhu Ming wasn’t particularly surprised. He nodded while rummaging through his pocket for the keys, casually teasing, “Is it because you’re not dressed formally enough today and didn’t bring a gift?”

Xi Xianqing shot him a glare. “Proper etiquette is necessary when visiting someone’s home.”

The next second, the villa’s door was pulled open from the inside.

“Ai? It really is you guys ah. Weren’t you supposed to come back in a couple of days?”

Zhu Yingying peeked her head out from behind the door, delighted. “I thought I heard voices outside. Come in, come in!”

Xi Xianqing was about to decline, but when his gaze fell on the living room, his expression darkened slightly.

Because he saw a round, plump guinea pig spiritual manifestation.

And on the sofa sat a young man with glasses and a slightly youthful face.

It was a somewhat familiar face.

Zhu Ming was also momentarily stunned before realizing—this was the District Seven university student who had clung to his arm by the pool at the District Two resort, enthusiastically trying to sell him on something.

“Oh right.”

Zhu Yingying gestured behind her and introduced, “My company held a promotional event at K University’s research institute today, and I happened to meet this young man named Qian Duo. We really hit it off, so I invited him over for a visit.”

“This young man says he’s met you before—he really worships you.”

She leaned closer to Zhu Ming’s ear and lowered her voice. “Their lab has plenty of funding. They bought a whole bunch of antibodies from our company on the spot. Go have a chat with him.”

Deep down, Zhu Yingying still believed that Zhu Ming had compromised his career and passion because of his legs, so she found it hard to turn away anyone who admired him academically.

The moment Qian Duo saw Zhu Ming, his eyes lit up, and he eagerly walked over, his guinea pig bouncing at his feet. “Zhu-ge, long time no see!”

Even though he felt utterly helpless, Zhu Ming could only extend his hand and force a dry smile. “…It hasn’t really been that long.”

“Xiao Xi, since you rarely come over, why don’t you stay for dinner?”

On the other side, Zhu Yingying tugged on Xi Xianqing’s arm, then looked behind her with a bit of hesitation. “Mainly, I didn’t know you’d be coming today, so I invited Xiao Qian over… If you don’t mind, why not stay?”

Zhu Ming quickly stepped in to help him decline. “He’s having dinner with his sister at home, so don’t force him to stay, Aunt—”

Before he could finish speaking, a sudden “clack” interrupted him—the sound of the door closing behind him.

Zhu Ming turned his head in confusion.

He saw Xi Xianqing’s long legs stride inside with a composed expression.

Without looking at Zhu Ming, he casually took off his coat and said in an even, unruffled tone, “In that case, I’ll be imposing on you tonight.”

Sister who is home alone at the moment : ^_^?

The watch design in this chapter was inspired by VCA’s Pont des Amoureux series.