Thank you very much, diabolomenth & MoonSun, for the ko-fi!!! :blobaww:

From the beginning, when District Two avoided mentioning Shen Ying, to later, when Tan Yu and Feng Jiachi from District Four would start fighting the moment they met, Xi Xianqing thought he had seen quite a lot along the way.

He never expected that, at this final stage, he would encounter a situation where someone directly requested… to transfer his work to someone else.

Even Ye Lu behind him looked somewhat surprised.

“Forgive me but I won’t be able to grant your request.”

Xi Xianqing frowned. “The family’s requirement for the assessment is that the work must be created based on the preferences and wishes of the current representative. So I cannot make this piece for someone else.”

Ruan Min’s lips moved slightly, and his fingers, gripping the hem of his clothes, turned faintly pale from the pressure.

After a long pause, he suddenly said dryly, “Then what if I say that my wish is for you to make sure this piece is given to someone else?”

Xi Xianqing: “…?”

“I know this assessment is very important to you. Regardless of the final outcome, I will give you the highest possible evaluation in front of Mr. Old Xi.”

With something close to earnestness, Ruan Min lifted his head and promised Xi Xianqing, “I just… just hope you absolutely don’t make it for me.”

For a moment, Xi Xianqing couldn’t form a complete sentence.

Since the establishment of Xi Xianqing’s private studio, there have always been high-profile clients who took the initiative to reach out to his team. Cooperation was only confirmed after multiple rounds of screening and communication. Given the lengthy refinement process, even the most prestigious clients often had to wait in line.

This was the first time he had actively sought to create a piece for someone, but was pushed outside by the other party as if he couldn’t avoid it. The experience was nothing short of novel.

But Xi Xianqing still maintained his composure. “If Mr. Ruan insists, then I cannot force the matter.”

Ruan Min’s shoulders visibly relaxed, as if a weight had been lifted.

Xi Xianqing paused, his brows tightly furrowed. “But if this piece is to be given to your mentor, then I will need to discuss the details of the work with him in the future.”

After a long silence, Ruan Min softly responded with a soft “Mm.”

“I understand.” He stood up, “I’ll take you to him.”

Leaving the meeting room, they walked through the corridor.

Along the way, they encountered quite a few people, most of whom were staff and scholars dressed in lab coats. They likely recognized Xi Xianqing from the news or had been informed of his identity in advance.

As a result, when they met his gaze, they either greeted him politely or nodded respectfully.

However, their attitude toward Ruan Min… was rather strange.

The ones who greeted him were extremely few. Most only glanced at him before brushing past as if he didn’t exist. Some even averted their gaze the moment they saw him, deliberately choosing to ignore his presence.

Xi Xianqing’s brows furrowed slightly.

Even if not to the extent of bowing and hailing, wasn’t basic social courtesy the least he should receive as the chief of a district… Was this truly the way he ought to be treated?

Yet, Ruan Min kept his head down and eyes lowered, appearing numb to it all, as if he had long grown accustomed to such treatment.

Leading Xi Xianqing, he stopped in front of an office door that was hidden.

Ruan Min briefly closed his eyes, exhaled lightly, then raised his hand and knocked.

Immediately afterward, he heard a low “Come in.”

Ruan Min hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open and called out, “Professor Qin.”

Behind the desk, a middle-aged man set down the holographic screen in his hand and looked in their direction.

The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and the streaks of gray in his hair bore the marks of time and age, yet his features remained sharp and distinguished.

What was even rarer was that, unlike the rigid and old-fashioned image often associated with professors, his eyes carried a hint of warmth. His demeanor was refined and gentle, exuding a very rare intellect and kindness.

But for some reason, the moment he laid eyes on that face, an inexplicable sense of unease settled over Xi Xianqing.

People are always struck by certain faces in ways they cannot explain. Xi Xianqing’s eyelids jumped slightly, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was so strange about it.

“Professor.”

Ruan Min’s voice sounded remarkably calm. “This is Mr. Xi Xianqing, the grandson of Mr. Old Xi, the representative of District Six. Mr. Xi, this is my mentor, Professor Qin Weisheng.”

Suppressing the odd feeling in his chest, Xi Xianqing extended his hand. “Professor Qin, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The last time I met Mr. Old Xi was when he visited K University for a guest lecture. I was fortunate enough to have a brief conversation with him.”

Qin Weisheng looked slightly surprised as he stood up and shook Xi Xianqing’s hand. “I didn’t expect his grandson to have grown into such an outstanding young man. It’s truly a pleasure, Mr. Xiao Xi.”

“But what brings… you two to me?” he asked with a puzzled smile.

“Mr. Xi is here in District Seven for the election assessment and will be custom-designing a piece for the chief.”

Ruan Min took a deep breath. “This rare and deeply meaningful opportunity, I want… to give it to you, Professor.”

The air fell silent for a moment.

“Ruan Min, you child…”

Qin Weisheng looked astonished for a moment, then shook his head and gently advised, “I know you’re a child who understands things, but since he’s here to create a piece for you, just speak with him openly. Why push it onto an old man like me?”

Ruan Min pulled out a somewhat awkward smile. “But… without all these years of your guidance, I wouldn’t be who I am today.”

Qin Weisheng studied Ruan Min’s face for a moment.

After a brief silence, he sighed with a faint smile, as if in resignation. “You ah… you’ve always been too tense. Why put yourself through this?”

Ruan Min’s body swayed slightly, and he slightly gritted his teeth. “Professor, please accept it.”

“All right, all right, I’ll accept your sentiment for now.”

Qin Weisheng stood up with a hint of helplessness and turned to Xi Xianqing. “Mr. Xiao Xi, I apologize. My student is excellent in every way, except that he’s always been too thin-skinned…”

“I’m afraid this has affected your assessment and caused you some trouble,” he said.

Xi Xianqing shifted his gaze away from the bookshelf beside him. “Not at all.”

Maintaining his professionalism as much as possible, he looked at Ruan Min. “Dr. Ruan Min, I just need to confirm one last time—once the decision is made, the final ownership of this piece cannot be changed. Are you certain?”

His words served as both a confirmation and a final opportunity for Ruan Min to reconsider.

Qin Weisheng said nothing, only smiling as he turned his questioning gaze to Ruan Min.

Ruan Min kept his eyes lowered, his gaze fixed on the cracks in the floor. After a long silence, he finally said, “…Yes. Just communicate with the Professor directly. Sorry for the trouble.”

Xi Xianqing stared at his profile but remained silent.

Qin Weisheng sighed, as if there was nothing more he could do, then picked up the notebook on his desk. “Mr. Xiao Xi, unfortunately, I have a meeting in a little while.”

“So, we may have to discuss the timing at a later date,” he said warmly. “For now, why don’t I walk you out and give you a tour of our laboratory on the way?”

Xi Xianqing said after a long time, “Good.”

Qin Weisheng picked up the documents and stood up, gesturing politely for him to proceed.

As they stepped out, Xi Xianqing once again turned his head toward the bookshelf beside him.

In truth, from the moment he entered the room, his gaze had been involuntarily drawn to this wooden bookshelf—not for any particular reason, but simply because its overall impression felt… odd.

Because there was not a single book on this bookshelf.

Instead, it was tightly packed with certificates, medals, and trophies—arranged with no sense of aesthetics, crammed together with barely any gaps between them. In this not-so-spacious office, they formed a towering, oppressive wall of honors, an impenetrable display of cold, metallic achievements.

There was only honor.

Though Xi Xianqing wasn’t a scholar, even in his own workspace, his bookshelves held at least a few essential reference books. As for awards, while he did display one or two, he would never stack them up in such an overwhelming manner—especially not in an office, a place where people came and went daily.

It was as if… it existed to showcase one’s accomplishments to the world.

This subtle feeling let XI Xianqing glance back once more even after leaving the office.

Just before the door fully closed, he caught a glimpse of a faint yellow color behind Qin Weisheng’s desk—seemingly a potted plant bearing some kind of fruit.

But just as he was about to see more clearly, the door shut with a crisp “click.”

Standing outside, Qin Weisheng smiled at Xi Xianqing and said, “This way, let me show you around.”

If the earlier conversation had only made Xi Xianqing feel that something was slightly off—

Then, following Qin Weisheng through the laboratory and out of the research institute, the overall atmosphere could only be described as unsettling.

Everyone they encountered along the way, without exception, took the initiative to stop in their tracks—some warmly and eagerly, others with reverence—as they greeted Qin Weisheng.

Qin Weisheng responded with composed smiles, nodding in acknowledgment one by one.

When passing by students conducting experiments, Qin Weisheng would pause to provide kind and patient guidance. The students, overwhelmed with gratitude, hurriedly took notes, creating a seemingly harmonious scene.

Their attitude toward Qin Weisheng was a mix of admiration and fear, coupled with an earnest desire to please him.

Ruan Min, trailing behind, kept his head slightly lowered the entire time, as if none of this had anything to do with him.

The research institute’s architecture felt oppressively rigid, and after a day filled with strange interactions, both Xi Xianqing and Ye Lu finally exhaled in relief the moment they got into the car.

“This Mr. Ruan… is rather strange.”

Even Ye Lu couldn’t help but remark, “If anything, it’s his mentor who seems to receive the treatment one would expect for a chief.”

Xi Xianqing didn’t respond.

His phone vibrated in his pocket—it was a message from Zhu Ming: “Is it over?”

This afternoon was Zhu Ming’s rehabilitation session.

As soon as Xi Xianqing replied with a simple “Mm.”, Zhu Ming immediately sent over the location of a restaurant near the hospital.

Just as the driver pulled up, Xi Xianqing spotted Zhu Ming sitting by the window of a fast-food restaurant, side by side with the white fox.

The weather in District Seven had been getting colder these past two days, signaling the arrival of winter.

Zhu Ming had wrapped himself in a fluffy white scarf for warmth, with even the tip of his chin tucked behind it.

He was bundled up as if bracing for the harshest winter, yet he was biting down on the spoon of a sundae, eyes half-closed in satisfaction as he tilted his head up, watching the birds perched on the tree branches outside.

Sunlight refracted through the glass, casting a glow on Zhu Ming’s face. As his eyelashes fluttered, they traced a small, fan-shaped shadow beneath his eyelids.

The restless frustration that had plagued Xi Xianqing all morning suddenly quieted.

He stood by the car door, watching in silence for a while. Then, following Zhu Ming’s gaze, he too looked up at the birds on the tree.

A moment later, the birds spread their wings and flew away. When Xi Xianqing lowered his gaze, he realized that through the window, Zhu Ming had already turned his attention to him at some point.

With a spoon in his mouth, Zhu Ming’s eyes curved in a smile as he waved at him.

The moment Xi Xianqing stepped into the fast-food restaurant, Zhu Ming studied his face while holding his sundae cup, then grinned. “The meeting didn’t go too well, did it?”

Before coming in, Xi Xianqing had deliberately adjusted his expression to appear composed and in control, yet he hadn’t expected to be seen through at a glance. “How did you—”

“You did a pretty good job this time.”

Zhu Ming smirked and pointed at his brow. “But right here, it’s already tied into a dead knot.”

“Alright, you can rant all you want during my rehab session later.”

He pushed the tray toward Xi Xianqing. “For now, change your mood and have something to eat. Here, want a bite of my fries?”

Xi Xianqing eyed the high-fat, high-calorie fast food in front of him. Before he could voice his disapproval, Zhu Ming picked up a fry, dipped it into his sundae, and held it up to his mouth with a bright smile. “Come on, my exclusive way of eating—hot and cold. Try it.”

Xi Xianqing frowned, instinctively leaning back in resistance. But Zhu Ming only grinned wider and brought the fry even closer.

In the end, Xi Xianqing could only lower his head, half-doubtful, and take a bite of the bizarre combination of ice cream and fries.

“How’s it?”

“Not good.”

“Then do you want more?”

“…Mm.”

The corners of Zhu Ming’s lips twitched as he lowered his head, using a fry to scoop up the last bit of ice cream from the cup. Just then, Xi Xianqing’s phone vibrated beside him.

Xi Xianqing glanced down and answered the call.

Zhu Ming held up the fry, waited for two seconds, then watched as the ice cream slowly melted and dripped down. Finally, he mouthed, “If you don’t eat it, I’m having it myself.”

Xi Xianqing paused.

In the end, while still holding his phone, he reached out, grabbed Zhu Ming’s wrist, and lowered his head to bite the fry.

A moment later, he let go with a composed expression, chewing as he gave a vague “Mm” to the person on the other end of the call.

Zhu Ming lowered his head and smiled, wiped his hands, and then heard Xi Xianqing ask, “Right now?”

Zhu Ming blinked and turned to look at him, only to see that Xi Xianqing’s barely relaxed brows had furrowed again. After a long silence, he said, “Got it.”

Putting down his phone, he met Zhu Ming’s gaze, lips pressed into a thin line. “Aunt Ye said Grandfather suddenly needs to see me for something urgent.”

Zhu Ming paused. “Urgent? Did she say what it was about?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t give details.” Xi Xianqing hesitated. “It might be related to the assessment. I haven’t seen Grandfather since returning from District Four, but…”

He didn’t say any more, but instead looked at Zhu Ming’s leg.

Only then did Zhu Ming snap out of it and flash him a lighthearted smile. “It’s fine, just one rehab session.”

Xi Xianqing still didn’t say anything.

“Can you have a little faith in me?”

Zhu Ming sighed. “I’ve made so much progress in rehab these past sessions. I’ll take it seriously this time—I really won’t skip it again.”

“Then you have to send me photos.” Xi Xianqing seemed slightly relieved, but his brows were still furrowed. “The rehab process, the IV treatment—send me everything. I’ll check.”

“Yes, Teacher Xi, I’ll make sure to complete my assignments.” Zhu Ming’s eyes curved in a smile. “You still have a bit of a drive back to District Six. Don’t delay too long, go now.”

Xi Xianqing let out a soft “Mm.” and finally stood up.

Zhu Ming watched him get into the car.

Then, lowering his eyes, he stared blankly at the now-melted ice cream in his sundae cup for a while.

“Let’s go.” After a long pause, he straightened up and spoke lightly to the white fox sleeping on his lap. “Looks like it’s just the two of us again today.”

Xi Xianqing didn’t visit the Xi Family estate often.

The so-called estate was the old man’s, Xi Jianfeng, residence. The old man preferring peace and quiet, had chosen not to live in District Six’s bustling elite neighborhood. Instead, he had built a secluded private residence beside a lake with excellent feng shui.

With many children and grandchildren, most family gatherings were held at restaurants or hotels in District Six. Unless it was an important holiday where they needed to pay a visit or Xi Jianfeng specifically requested a meeting, his children’s visits to the estate were rare.

A servant silently pulled back the screen and guided Xi Xianqing toward the study.

Stepping inside, Xi Xianqing called out, “Grandfather.”

Xi Jianfeng stood by a large blue-and-white porcelain vat, watching several Ranchu goldfish swim inside.

In his hand was an intricately carved jade bowl filled with fish food. His expression was unreadable, and a white crane stood silently behind him.

He glanced up at Xi Xianqing without a word, simply grabbing a small handful of fish food and scattering it onto the water’s surface.

With just a glance, Xi Xianqing’s heart suddenly sank.

“Ye Lu, step out first.” Xi Jianfeng turned his back, not looking at Xi Xianqing’s face. “Close the door.”

Ye Heron’s complexion changed as she looked towards Xi Xianqing.

But in the end, she could only lower her eyes, respond softly, and leave the room, closing the door behind her.

The room fell into cold silence once more.

There were only a few pellets of fish food in the tank, yet seven or eight fish darted frantically to the surface, competing for them. Ripples spread, accompanied by faint, brief splashes.

“Xianqing.”

Xi Jianfeng gazed down at the fish in the tank, his tone steady and devoid of much emotion. “Among the Xi Family’s teachings, which virtue do I value most in my children? Do you still remember?”

The fish food was snatched away in an instant. The ripples on the water gradually faded, leaving the surface calm again.

A subtle chill crept into his heart. After a long pause, Xi Xianqing answered, appearing calm, “…Honesty.”

Xi Jianfeng said nothing. He merely placed the jade food bowl onto the mahogany table beside him with a dull thud, a sound that seemed to send an invisible tremor through one’s heart.

Lifting his eyelids, he looked at Xi Xianqing’s face and asked faintly, “Then do you think you have lived up to it?”