Thank you so much, Yartizt & Mystic, for the ko-fis!!! :blobaww:

Late at night, at Xi Xianqing’s home.

After venting their emotions, confessing the past, and voicing everything they had kept inside, they should have sat down properly by now—perhaps awkwardly inquiring about each other’s recent life, or softly exchanging heartfelt words, spending a warm and tender night together.

But their situation was a little different—

In the living room, Zhu Ming rested his chin on his hand. “Open.”

Xi Xianqing sat expressionlessly at the other end of the sofa. At his feet, the green peac0ck stomped, then, after a brief moment, its tail feathers quivered and slowly, bit by bit, unfurled.

Zhu Ming let out a hum as he recorded on the light screen while giving another command. “Close.”

Xi Xianqing took a deep breath. On the dining table, the green peac0ck, which had just struggled to spread its feathers, blinked its beady eyes, wiggled its butt, and once again, its long tail feathers slowly folded back.

Zhu Ming hummed again, continuing his notes. Just as he was about to speak and give another command, Xi Xianqing finally lost his patience. “Are you done yet?”

Only then did Zhu Ming reluctantly put down the light screen. “Alright.”

The green peac0ck held its head high, puffed out its chest, and proudly flicked its long, elegant tail feathers. Zhu Ming, while putting on a pair of sensory gloves, remarked in amazement, “It’s actually… able to control it freely now.”

Xi Xianqing glanced at him without responding. Zhu Ming lightly patted the peac0ck’s butt. “What’s wrong? Say what you want to say.”

Xi Xianqing’s gaze landed on Zhu Ming’s bare ring finger. After a long pause, he said indifferently, “Nothing. You sure took off your ring quickly.”

Zhu Ming smiled slightly. “Mhm, and you never told me that the ‘cheap’ substitute ring I had you modify was actually worth tens of billions of Xi Star coins, Mr. Xiao Xi.”

Xi Xianqing’s body stiffened. “Who told you that? It was just an ordinary…”

“District Four’s Kulite Mine blue diamond, now completely depleted.” Zhu Ming enunciated clearly, cutting off all his escape routes. “Your mentor told me personally.”

Xi Xianqing’s expression didn’t change, but beneath Zhu Ming’s sensory gloves, he felt the green peac0ck’s butt suddenly twitch.

When he ran into Yang Jiahe at the café, after spilling hot chocolate on his hand, she was at least ten million times more nervous than Zhu Ming himself.

Panicked, she pulled out some tissues, grabbed his hand, and tried to rescue it—only to see his ring finger was bare. Instantly, she let out a long sigh of relief. It was at that moment that Zhu Ming learned the true value of the ring.

Xi Xianqing remained silent for a long time.

Zhu Ming removed the sensory gloves, and as he sat back down, he reached into the depths of his collar. His fingertips hooked onto a delicate chain, and hanging from it was none other than their wedding ring.

After the divorce, with the media watching their every move, wearing the ring on his finger was no longer an option.

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to put it back in its box and let it gather dust, so he found a compromise—wearing it on his chest. Of course, after learning the true price of that tiny blue diamond, he now felt a little anxious every time he turned over in his sleep.

Xi Xianqing stared at the brilliant, crystal-clear blue resting against Zhu Ming’s chest. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and after a long pause, he looked away. “…The chain is a bit long. Shortening it would look better.”

Zhu Ming looked directly at him. “Then adjust it for me.”

“Alright.”

Zhu Ming lowered his head slightly, and Xi Xianqing stepped closer, raising his hands as well.

Zhu Ming’s hair was jet-black and soft. When he lowered his head, the curve of his nape appeared smooth and fair against the contrast. Xi Xianqing’s fingers hooked onto the chain, and after a long while, he spoke in a seemingly casual tone. “So, what do you think we are… considered now?”

“I don’t know. I might need some time to figure that out.”

Zhu Ming answered without hesitation, “But I know that at least right now, it’s not just an agreement. Everything that happens between us no longer needs to be disguised as something unrelated, and that makes me feel relieved.”

Xi Xianqing’s brows furrowed as his fingertips unfastened the metal clasp of the necklace. He knew Zhu Ming was telling the truth, but it wasn’t the answer he wanted.

Thinking back on his own words just now, Xi Xianqing felt his ears heat up, as if he wanted to erase the memory altogether.

Keeping his expression taut, he tightened his fingers slightly, adjusted the length of the chain, and then let go.

Zhu Ming obediently lifted his face, running his fingers over the newly adjusted necklace. Their gazes met in midair.

Looking as if he didn’t care, Xi Xianqing asked, “Then when exactly can you think about it?”

Zhu Ming didn’t reply. His fingers lightly rubbed over the ring resting just above his collarbone. Beside him, the white fox flicked its tail, and one person and one fox raised their eyes in thought, staring at Xi Xianqing’s face.

Xi Xianqing felt uncomfortable under his gaze, as if every thought in his mind had been seen through.

After a moment, Zhu Ming smiled slightly and beckoned him over.

Xi Xianqing pressed his lips together and leaned in.

“When you finish your drafts properly and seriously complete your final assessment,” Zhu Ming tilted his head slightly, whispering in his ear, “I’ll tell you my answer.”

Using the “answer” as bait, Zhu Ming kept Xi Xianqing hanging, leaving him no choice but to continue the assessment properly.

Xi Xianqing knew Zhu Ming meant well, but he was visibly dissatisfied with such a vague response.

That was until Zhu Ming added, “For the second half of the assessment, I’ll be there to supervise and accompany you the entire time.”

Only then did Xi Xianqing casually say, “Alright.”

“But before officially putting pen to paper, there’s someone… I want to meet,” he said.

District Six, the entrance to the private tea room.

A young man dressed simply, carrying a backpack, stepped through the tea room’s entrance with his head lowered and softly asked, “Excuse me, is Mr. Xi here?”

The server led him toward a private room. The boy lowered his eyes again and followed behind, while the sika deer at his side glanced around timidly before cautiously stepping forward.

At first, Ruan Min didn’t understand why Xi Xianqing had requested this meeting—he had already transferred the opportunity to produce his work to Qin Weisheng, and as far as he knew, Xi Xianqing and Qin Weisheng had already completed a meeting.

However, the moment the private room door opened, Ruan Min’s gaze fell on the person beside Xi Xianqing, and he froze in place as if struck by lightning. “You—you’re…”

Zhu Ming rested his hand on the edge of the dining table, slowly stood up, and spoke gently, “Mr. Ruan, a pleasure to meet you.”

Ruan Min’s shoulders trembled involuntarily. His gaze dropped, and he stared in disbelief at Zhu Ming’s legs. “Your legs—”

“At that time, I had just woken up from a coma. While I was hospitalized, I received an anonymous delivery of nutritional supplements and fresh flowers every week.”

Zhu Ming’s gaze shifted behind Ruan Min as he spoke softly. “The nurse told me that the sender insisted on remaining anonymous, but all they knew was that his spiritual manifestation was a sika deer.”

Ruan Min’s body tensed slightly.

“Mr. Ruan, you can choose to leave, or you can sit down and have a cup of tea with us.”

Xi Xianqing spoke from the side. “We just want to know the truth about what happened. And we also know that some things… may not have been your decision.”

Ruan Min’s hands clenched around the straps of his backpack.

He looked visibly uneasy, even as if he wanted to escape. But after a long moment, he let out a breath, lowered his head again, and took a seat in front of them.

“You guys can ask,” he said softly.

Zhu Ming stared at him for a long moment before asking: “Why?”

Why did Qin Weisheng do this? Why was Ruan Min willing to be a puppet on a string? And why on earth did everything… end up the way it did?

It took a long time before Ruan Min finally raised his head again.

“Mr. Zhu, you might not realize what your perfect score on the medical exam means to someone as mediocre as me.”

His voice was barely audible. “I was 40 points away from a perfect score. But that was already my best result after an extra year of studying, after exhausting myself, after countless days and nights of struggle.”

K University, U University, and T University were known as the “cradles of Chief Researchers,” the dream of every District Seven student since childhood. The year Ruan Min barely got into K University, his mother made him a lavish meal, and his older brother bought a small cake.

On the cake, written in wobbly chocolate, were the words: “Wishing the future Chief Researcher of District Seven a boundless future.” It was just a kind blessing, but at that time, Ruan Min had been full of hope for what lay ahead.

But once he arrived at K University, surrounded by top-tier talent, he realized that talent was just the bare minimum, and hard work was nothing more than an insignificant bonus. Too many prodigies, too many people with powerful backgrounds—he was drowned in the crowd. Everyone was striving for the title of Chief Researcher.

Perhaps he was a pearl with a decent luster, but among thousands of dazzling gemstones, his worth became insignificant. He no longer stood out.

Gradually, he grew accustomed to his mediocrity, accepting that he would never reach the top. He comforted himself—at least he was researching something he loved, and that was enough.

Until one late night, after finishing his last experiment, he turned around in exhaustion and saw Qin Weisheng standing behind him, smiling as he sized him up.

Qin Weisheng was the most sought-after mentor in K University’s Institute for Spiritual Manifestation Anomalies. He had too many students under him, and ever since Ruan Min joined his research team, he had spent most of his time working with senior assistant mentors. He rarely had the chance to interact with Qin Weisheng directly.

That day, Qin Weisheng talked to him for a long time. Ruan Min spoke about his original ambitions, and Qin Weisheng could clearly see how much his will had been worn down. By the end, Ruan Min even felt a little embarrassed.

The entire time, Qin Weisheng gazed at him with gentle, almost pitying eyes. And finally, in a soft voice, he asked, “Ruan Min, do you want to be the next Chief Researcher of District Seven?”

“At that moment, I felt like I was dreaming. Why me? There were so many outstanding senior students he could have chosen, yet he picked me to cultivate instead.”

Ruan Min’s gaze drifted far away. “Later, I finally understood—a puppet only needs to be mediocre and weak enough. And in the entire lab, I was the one who fit those two traits best.”

His complexion was so pale it was almost bloodless. “He told me I didn’t need to do anything—just listen to him.”

“And just like that, little by little, he molded and packaged me into what a Chief Researcher was supposed to be.”

Ruan Min’s voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible. “The research projects completed by my seniors—he directly put my name as the first author, without caring that it was someone else’s hard work, without caring how others would see me. Drugs that tested positive for osteotoxicity—he could alter the clinical data as he pleased. After all, the peer reviewers in the field were all his trusted people.”

Xi Xianqing frowned, “Why don’t you report him?”

Ruan Min said nothing. Zhu Ming studied his face. “Someone did report him—but it was useless, wasn’t it?”

After a long time, Ruan Min nodded.

“Not only was it useless, but it will bury your own future along with it.”

Ruan Min tugged at the corners of his lips. “Everyone was being exploited by him, but no one dared to resist. He had already taken complete control of the institute. Just getting into K University had already drained us; we had invested too much time, effort, and resources into our research. Who had the energy or courage to start over from scratch?”

“So when the final stage of the Chief Researcher competition came and he started using disgraceful methods… I had neither the power nor the right to say a single word.”

Ruan Min said softly, “Back then, the competitors I faced—those who lacked talent were naturally not a threat. As for those who were on equal footing… Qin Weisheng had plenty of ways to take them down.”

“First, he’d dig for academic misconduct. If there was nothing to find, he’d guide them into making mistakes. Some people could resist temptation, but no one was completely flawless.” He paused, then looked up at Zhu Ming. “But on the contrary, you…”

But Zhu Ming was spotless. And, on top of that, he was brilliant. Qin Weisheng was nearly powerless against him, and in the end, he could only resort to the most disgraceful means.

Zhu Ming said nothing.

After a long silence, he asked, “Why did he go through so much trouble to push you into the Chief Researcher instead of taking it himself?”

Ruan Min’s lips twitched, and after a long pause, he let out an extremely mocking smile. “Because he couldn’t.”

Xi Xianqing and Zhu Ming were both stunned. But Ruan Min only lowered his eyes and shook his head, refusing to continue that topic.

“Over the years as Chief Researcher, I’ve gotten used to the cold shoulders, the dismissive looks, and the silent contempt—because I truly don’t deserve the title.”

His gaze dropped to Zhu Ming’s legs, and his eyes turned red. “But after all these years, the one thing I still can’t come to terms with is…”

His voice trembled to the point of choking. Zhu Ming shook his head and said, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Ruan Min looked at him. “But if I had been a little stronger—”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” Zhu Ming cut him off. His gaze seemed to be focused on something far away. “Even if it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else. There would always be someone forced into that position, unable to resist.”

Ruan Min’s shoulders trembled slightly.

The phone on the table vibrated. Zhu Ming lowered his eyes, let out a quiet breath, and stood up. “I’m going to take this call.”

Zhu Ming got up and left the private room. Ruan Min wiped the corners of his eyes, gripped his backpack tightly, and stood up with his head lowered. “Mr. Xi, I think I should go—”

Xi Xianqing called out to stop him. “Mr. Ruan, please wait.”

He lifted his gaze, looking straight at Ruan Min. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

After hanging up on Zhu Yingying’s call asking if he would be home for dinner, Zhu Ming stood at the entrance of the tea room, watching the flow of traffic on the road, letting himself breathe for a moment.

He could have returned the call later or even answered it inside the private room, but with every additional word Ruan Min spoke about Qin Weisheng, the air in that space seemed to grow thinner.

In the end, he just couldn’t sit there any longer—he knew better than anyone what a hypocrite Qin Weisheng was.

It was just that they still have that undeniable blood relationship between them. Hearing Ruan Min recount every detail out loud—was something he wasn’t mentally prepared to process.

When he turned around, he saw Xi Xianqing standing at the entrance of the tea room, looking at him.

Zhu Ming froze for a moment. “He left?”

Xi Xianqing nodded, looking at Zhu Ming’s face for a while before simply asking, “Do you want to get something to eat?”

Xi Xianqing wasn’t the type to be good at comforting others, and Zhu Ming wasn’t someone who liked meaningless reassurances. That was why, at times, they got along surprisingly well.

Zhu Ming was briefly stunned before he smiled. “Sure.”

But where Xi Xianqing told the driver to stop was something Zhu Ming never expected—a street food market.

This street food market was located near a university, and Zhu Ming was quite familiar with it. He remembered that it was always packed with students, making it almost impossible to move through the crowds. But today, parking was surprisingly easy, and for a moment, he felt like his luck was pretty good.

As soon as they stepped through the entrance, a store attendant in a pink apron handed him a small paper cup of yogurt. “Hello, sir. Valentine’s Day special yogurt—sea salt rose flavor. Please enjoy a free sample.”

Today is Valentine’s Day?

Zhu Ming was stunned for a moment, then took the pink paper cup and drank two sips of the yogurt. It tasted pretty good, so he didn’t think much of it.

But after walking a few more steps, when snacks with names like “Valentine’s Day Special Extra-Spicy Grilled Squid,” “Strawberry First Love Cotton Candy,” and “Winter Romance Cherry Cream Waffles” were all handed to him as free samples, he finally sensed that something was off.

He had only been walking for less than five minutes, hadn’t spent a single cent, and was already close to being full from all the samples—how was that normal?

Earlier, he had been too focused on accepting the food to notice. But now, as he took a closer look at the street, he realized something strange. Although there were plenty of people standing around, they were all shop employees. Their gazes kept subtly drifting toward him and Xi Xianqing, trays or baskets in hand, looking eager to stuff even more samples into Zhu Ming’s hand.

Yet, from one end of the street to the other… there wasn’t a single other customer?

Zhu Ming inhaled sharply in silence—because he suddenly recalled that he had experienced something similar once before, back at that luxury mall in Tan City.

He turned around violently.

In the glow of the setting sun, Xi Xianqing followed behind, holding an oversized pink cotton candy given by a store attendant. The breeze ruffled his hair as he casually gazed at the scenery along the street.

But under the warm and romantic hues of dusk, the tips of his ears were tinged with a faint pink—betraying the fact that he wasn’t as calm as he appeared.

“…Xi Xianqing.” Zhu Ming took a deep breath. “Did you clear out the entire street?”

Author’s notes:

The Overbearing CEO Little Bird—Limited-time comeback^_^

Jie Jie: Advanced Happy Valentine’s Day! :blobsmileopenmouth: