Thank you so much, nilvy2003reserve/Fun~Osh, for the ko-fi!!! :blobaww:

Within just one week, three major hotspot events erupted in Xi Star.

The first was a heavyweight announcement: Xi Jianfeng, the current representative of District Six, declared that he would step down next month. Furthermore, District Six would implement a dual-representative system, with Xi Xianqing and Xi Sen jointly assuming the representative position.

As soon as the news broke, it caused an uproar. Netizens, who always enjoyed watching dramatic power struggles in wealthy families, found such a peaceful and harmonious resolution unbelievable. Some even speculated that this entire evaluation process might have been a meticulously orchestrated publicity stunt by the Old Master Xi from the very beginning.

The second incident stirred up intense discussion within District Seven—although Qin Weisheng’s imprisonment was kept strictly confidential, his dismissal from his teaching position was officially announced on K University’s campus website.

Shortly after, K University officially introduced a new talent for its Spiritual Manifestation Anomalies Research Institute—Zhu Ming, the only person in District Seven’s history to achieve a perfect score on the medical exam and a former employee of T University.

The long-standing rivalry between these two prestigious universities was well known. Some joked that Zhu Ming was a top school collector and speculated that his move to K University was aimed at competing for the next Chief position. Others dug up footage from the auditorium on the day Ruan Min publicly reported Qin Weisheng, suspecting there might be hidden details behind the matter. However, due to a lack of solid evidence and the seemingly far-fetched nature of the theories, the speculation eventually faded away.

The third incident was quite intriguing and cleverly connected to the protagonists of the previous two events—paparazzi captured Xi Xianqing, whose personal schedule had been hectic lately, occasionally appearing outside K University’s research institute to pick up Zhu Ming and return together to their residence in District Seven.

Paparazzi who staked out overnight discovered that this pair, who had only recently finalized their divorce, would usually stay together for the entire night. This left netizens feeling as if they were being toyed with.

“Do I have an extra memory segment? Last time these two made it to the trending list, weren’t they… getting their divorce certificate? Ah, ah, ah?”

<As Divorced>

“No, no, I zoomed in on the pictures, and it looks like they put their rings back on… Is this some kind of relationship kink? Or a new style of dating? Does breaking up and getting back together make love more thrilling?”

“Wait, am I the only one wondering if they’ll have a wedding if they remarry? After all, they never had a proper ceremony the first time ah. A District Six representative’s wedding is bound to be an aesthetic masterpiece… Rubbing my hands in anticipation…”

“Has anyone considered that if Zhu Ming wins the next Chief election, the combination of District Six’s representative × District Seven’s chief might be a bit too good to ship…”

As winter neared its end and the ice and snow of early spring began to melt, everything gradually returned to normal.

For Xi Xianqing, taking on the heavy responsibility of District Six’s representative after the assessment was no easy task. The numerous affairs he inherited from Xi Jianfeng kept him overwhelmed, with one social event following another. His private studio was also fully booked with client orders, leaving him completely swamped.

Zhu Ming was even busier, to the point where he barely had a moment to rest—he had just officially signed with K University, and his laboratory was still in its infancy. Moving, renovations, equipment procurement—every step required his personal attention.

Although District Six and District Seven weren’t far apart, commuting still took a considerable amount of time. The two could only squeeze in whatever moments they could, occasionally managing to meet after work.

One afternoon, Xi Xianqing came to pick up Zhu Ming from work.

Zhu Ming had been in meetings from morning till night and slept the entire way. When he woke up, he groggily stared at the unfamiliar villa and surroundings outside the window for five seconds. “Excuse me, which planet am I on right now?”

Xi Xianqing was clearly satisfied with his reaction. With his arms elegantly crossed over his chest, he glanced at him. “You’re in our home.”

Still half-asleep, Zhu Ming obediently nodded. “Oh, oh, so it’s our home ah.”

Five seconds later, Zhu Ming fully woke up. “…Where am I? What did you just say? Say that again?”

Xi Xianqing’s solution to their long-distance relationship was simple and straightforward—he had directly purchased his own property in District Seven, complete with a swimming pool and garden, and had moved most of his private studio’s belongings there.

Zhu Ming often struggled to understand this nobleman’s peculiar spending habits, but he had to admit—money did solve most of life’s troubles.

Zhu Ming’s villa in District Seven housed Zhu Yingying, while Xi Xianqing’s estate in District Six was home to Xi Mufei, making certain matters inconvenient to handle. Though this new place was extravagant… it was far more practical than a rose made of gemstones.

Thus, they officially began living together.

Zhu Ming’s new laboratory was finally renovated, and its members were brimming with enthusiasm, their ambition far exceeding his own. Meetings related to their research projects were practically drowning him.

One Friday, just as he was preparing to leave work, Liu Kuan suddenly knocked on his door, poked his head in, and said that some newly obtained experimental results were difficult to interpret. He asked if Zhu Ming could stay an extra half hour to discuss them with the team.

Although Zhu Ming had repeatedly emphasized that overtime was strictly prohibited in his lab, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away those genuinely eager for knowledge. So, he sent a message to Xi Xianqing: “Working late today, might be home a bit later.”

When he arrived at the break room, he was surprised to find that at some point, the space had been decorated like a small party. Zhou Zhou, Ruan Min, and several other researchers were gathered around the table, all smiling as they looked at him.

Liu Kuan raised his glass, while his capybara spiritual manifestation swayed its round body. “Professor Zhu, this little party was planned by everyone as a way to thank you. Thank you for joining our team and giving us the opportunity to come together here…”

Thinking about how he had sent emails to Zhu Ming for years without ever receiving a reply, Liu Kuan glanced outside at the well-organized lab and was so overwhelmed that he nearly choked up, unable to form a complete sentence. Beside him, Qian Duo quickly took over. “Professor Zhu, come on, let’s have a drink.”

“I appreciate your kind gesture, but you all should know—there will be plenty of hardships ahead. Just don’t start cursing me behind my back later.”

Zhu Ming blinked playfully, patted Liu Kuan on the shoulder, then glanced hesitantly at the alcohol on the table. “But let’s skip the drinks ha. I tend to get a little crazier when I’m drunk…”

Liu Kuan and Qian Duo assumed he was just being modest. “Just one drink! If you get drunk, we’ll take you home.”

Zhu Ming found it hard to refuse and reluctantly accepted the glass.

Ten minutes later, the break room had become an entirely different scene.

“Everyone, stand still and be quiet!”

Seated in the center of the room, Zhu Ming’s cheeks were flushed, his expression solemn. Drunkenly, he slammed a hand on the table. “Listen carefully to my next instruction!”

Everyone in the room: “…”

Qian Duo trembled as he whispered, “H-how could this be? We only gave Professor Zhu two glasses of fruit wine ah…”

Zhou Zhou took a deep breath in agony. “Forget two glasses—he can’t even have a single drop. Last time he drank, he straight-up forced a kiss on someone… Anyway, his alcohol tolerance is absolutely terrible.”

Qian Duo immediately clamped a hand over his mouth: “…”

“Now, release your spiritual manifestations—”

Zhu Ming hiccupped, paused for a moment, then planted his hands on his hips and commanded with full authority, “…Release your spiritual manifestations so I can inspect them!”

Everyone: “…”

Five minutes later, a line of trembling rodents stood in formation inside the break room. Zhou Zhou’s roe deer and Ruan Min’s sika deer were positioned at the very end, while the rest exchanged wary glances at Zhu Ming, who sat upright with a solemn expression.

With his cheeks flushed red, Zhu Ming wore sensor gloves and meticulously examined each one.

After checking Zhou Zhou’s roe deer, Zhu Ming nodded in satisfaction. “Very healthy. Keep it up.”

Zhou Zhou grinned widely and scratched his head, pleased.

When it was Ruan Min’s turn, Zhu Ming picked up the sika deer’s hoof, observed it carefully, and then touched its antlers. “Slight malnutrition. You need to rest more.”

Ruan Min lowered his gaze and softly responded, “Okay.”

Finally, when it was Liu Kuan’s turn, Zhu Ming, still drunk, squinted at the stout and solid capybara on the floor, studying it in deep thought.

“Your spiritual manifestation’s BMI has exceeded 35. That puts it in the category of second-degree obesity.”

Zhu Ming spoke in a serious tone, patted the capybara’s belly and vaguely instructed, “…Turn around so I can assess the fat distribution on your butt.”

Liu Kuan broke out in a cold sweat and stammered, “P-Professor Zhu, I-I’ll watch my diet, but… my butt… can we just let that slide..”

Zhu Ming turned his head, covered his mouth, and let out a hiccup, just about to voice his dissatisfaction. But Zhou Zhou’s gaze suddenly shifted behind him, his expression changing drastically as he started frantically signaling with his eyes. “Zhu—Zhu-ge, maybe you should rein it in a little first—”

Zhu Ming didn’t appreciate being interrupted in the middle of a consultation. He frowned, his drunken eyes hazy, and let out a questioning “Hm?”

Turning around, he saw Xi Xianqing standing at the entrance of the break room. He was wearing a long dark brown trench coat, his expression cold as he crossed his arms over his chest.

His gaze landed on Zhu Ming’s hand resting on the capybara’s round body. After a few seconds, he spoke in a flat tone, “So this is the overtime you were talking about?”

Lying about working late, attending a party instead, “inspecting” other people’s spiritual manifestations at the party, and getting caught red-handed in the process of caressing.

The consequence of all this was that when they got home, Zhu Ming was pinned down in the study by Xi Xianqing for an intense “overtime” session.

The desk in the new home was spacious, and the bookshelves were large. Zhu Ming braced one hand against the desk and the other against the shelf, his fingers turning pale from the pressure. The books above wobbled slightly with each movement.

His drunkenness had mostly worn off on the way back. At first, he had tried to pretend he was still drunk to muddle through, but when his voice began to change, he could only hoarsely plead to move to the bed instead.

Usually, Xi Xianqing had a soft spot for him acting spoiled. But today, the cold-faced peac0ck, clearly in a bad mood and immune to any coaxing, remained unmoved no matter what Zhu Ming said. He simply kept his head down, focused on his actions, using a force heavier than ever before.

Strangely, this stirred an indescribable thrill within Zhu Ming, a mix of fear and something he couldn’t quite name. He wasn’t sure if it felt good or unbearable, but his body reacted instinctively. Tears welled up and slipped down his beautifully flushed eyes, and his white fox tail trembled in waves. One person and one fox were exhausted to the point that they didn’t even have the strength to move a finger.

By the time they were in the bathroom cleaning up, Zhu Ming could do nothing but cling to Xi Xianqing, at the mercy of the other party.

Reflecting on the night’s events, Zhu Ming realized that he might have made a few too many mistakes. So, he hooked his arms around Xi Xianqing’s neck and began eliminating possibilities one by one.

He tested the waters first. “I… won’t drink anymore?”

Xi Xianqing didn’t respond, just lifted his eyelids and glanced at him.

Zhu Ming thought for a moment before continuing, “I’ll report my schedule in time from now on and leave work on time.”

Xi Xianqing seemed slightly more satisfied, but he still didn’t say anything. He simply lowered his gaze and continued rinsing the lingering soap suds from Zhu Ming’s backside with the showerhead.

Still the wrong answer.

Suddenly, Zhu Ming remembered something. He tapped Xi Xianqing’s chest with his index finger and softly tested the waters by whispering in his ear, “From now on, this hand will only touch our Dish Soap?”

He felt Xi Xianqing’s arm around him pause abruptly.

The password was correct.

Xi Xianqing finally looked at him. After a long moment, he spoke in a faint tone. “…You can touch whoever you want. I’m not so petty as to stop you from practicing medicine.”

Zhu Ming blinked and explained warmly, “I never said you were stopping me ah. I’m doing this completely of my own free will—is that not allowed?”

“But besides Dish Soap…”

Amid the hazy steam, Zhu Ming smiled and tilted his face up at him, while his hand restlessly trailed down from Xi Xianqing’s firm chest. Slowly sliding down, it finally settled somewhere unexpected—though, perhaps, not entirely out of their expectations. “There are indeed a few other meaningful places worth touching.”

Xi Xianqing’s breath grew noticeably heavier. Then, a soft, teasing voice whispered, “…Haven’t we never tried it in the shower?”

The mist blurred everything, but Zhu Ming’s damp eyelashes couldn’t hide the mischievous glint in his gaze—an invitation, clear as day.

The showerhead fell to the ground. His breath hitched—Xi Xianqing lowered his head, pressing the person in front of him against the cool bathroom wall, claiming his lips without hesitation.

Zhu Ming’s laboratory at K University’s research institute had officially begun operations. Upon joining, he received numerous well-wishes and gifts.

Shen Ying’s cake shop in District Two had officially opened, and she specially sent over several boxes of exquisitely crafted cupcakes in various flavors. Her baking skills were exceptional, earning unanimous praise from everyone in the lab.

Additionally, two tightly sealed parchment paper bags arrived, carefully labeled with handwritten heating instructions. Upon opening them, he found an abundance of sweet pancakes imprinted with lamb and cherry blossom patterns—undoubtedly a heartfelt gift from Ji Rong.

Tang Yu and Feng Jiachi also sent their congratulations. They were currently vacationing in District Three but didn’t forget to mail over a few newly developed robots from their company.

Each robot had different functions—some assisted in recording experimental data, others transported and replenished lab supplies, and some could even automatically clean test tubes and beakers, significantly saving valuable time during experiments.

At 5 p.m. on Friday, most of the lab members clocked out on time. As they passed his office, they each stopped by to say goodbye to Zhu Ming.

Zhu Ming responded with a warm smile to each of them. Since Xi Xianqing would be arriving a bit later to pick him up, he still had some time, so he took the opportunity to organize the files on his desk.

Most of them were medical cases and treatment plans he had accumulated over the years. With the patients’ consent, several fascinating and unique cases could be incorporated into his future research projects.

Zhu Ming printed and bound them together, flipping through the pages now, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment.

Of course, among all these cases, the most unique one—the only one he had bound separately—was titled “How To Use His Feathers.”

As Zhu Ming read through the file, the smile in his eyes grew even brighter. He kept flipping until he reached the last blank page, where he paused thoughtfully.

Yes, this case was still incomplete.

Picking up the pen beside him, he pondered for a moment before adding the final record.

[Spiritual Manifestation Abnormality]: Congenital inability to control tail feathers.

[Reason for This Record]: Fully recovered, now able to control and spread tail feathers at will.

(Note: In moments of shyness or intense physiological fluctuations, the tail feathers may still occasionally tremble uncontrollably at high speed.)

The pen halted over the [Treatment Plan Summary] section. The white fox’s ears twitched slightly as Zhu Ming set the pen down, momentarily at a loss for how to describe it.

Typically, this section contained details about medication names, dosages, and administration frequencies. But Xi Xianqing’s condition was something beyond the realm of drugs, data, and scientific explanation.

Just as he was caught in indecision, a knock sounded at the door. Looking up, he saw the patient himself standing there, his expression composed.

Zhu Ming raised an eyebrow and put down his pen. “Why’d you come up directly? You could’ve just called—I’d have come downstairs.”

Xi Xianqing calmly lifted the bag in his hand, while the green peac0ck behind him squinted its bead-like eyes in visible contentment. “Brought some decorations over on the way.”

Zhu Ming: “…”

When he had first moved into K University’s research institute, Xi Xianqing—whose aesthetic standards were exacting and who pursued a refined lifestyle—had visited his office once. From the moment he stepped in, his brows had remained furrowed the entire time.

At first, Zhu Ming had been quite satisfied with his setup, but after being scrutinized by that sharp, critical gaze, he suddenly started to feel like the place was indeed a bit shabby. “How about… you help me spruce it up a little?”

Zhu Ming had said “a little”, but clearly, he and Xi Xianqing had vastly different interpretations of that phrase.

At first, the decorations Xi Xianqing brought were relatively normal—just small ornaments. But as time went on, they became increasingly extravagant: high-relief vases, enamel music boxes… and even a massive oil painting.

And now, in his hands was yet another excessive addition—a bonsai plant so meticulously pruned and obviously expensive that even the pot alone screamed wealth.

Zhu Ming took a deep breath. “This is my office, not a museum.”

Xi Xianqing stared at him for a long time without speaking. Behind him, the green peac0ck blinked its bead-like eyes, and its slightly raised tail feathers drooped down quietly.

Zhu Ming let out a soft sigh and looked at the bonsai. “But it is really beautiful… Alright, I’ll trouble you to set it up for me.”

Only then did Xi Xianqing respond with a faint “Mm.” He turned around and faced Zhu Ming’s nearly overflowing bookshelf, searching for the perfect spot.

Zhu Ming watched his movements, then glanced at the green peac0ck behind him, which was now happily fluffing up its tail again. His lips twitched slightly as if reminded of something, and he picked up his pen once more.

After adjusting the bonsai to the perfect angle, Xi Xianqing turned back and found Zhu Ming smiling faintly, writing something down on paper.

He glanced over, “What are you writing?”

Zhu Ming quickly blocked it with his hand, “Secret.”

“…” Xi Xianqing exhaled, then picked up the coat from the nearby rack, spread it open, and held it up behind him. In a calm tone, he said, “The movie starts in half an hour.”

Only then did Zhu Ming reluctantly set down his pen and stand up. “Coming, coming.”

He obediently slipped his hands into the sleeves, letting Xi Xianqing fasten the buttons for him while making a perfectly justified request. “After the movie, I want to eat that coconut chicken hotpot we saw last time.”

“Okay.”

“But I’m already starving ah… Hmm, let’s get a bucket of popcorn before the movie. Oh, and a buttered corn on the cob. And an iced cola… I’ll go pick up the tickets, and you go buy them for me.”

“…

“Xi Xianqing, don’t pretend you didn’t hear me again. Did you remember everything or not?”

“…Got it.”

The office door clicked shut behind them. In the hallway, their fingers intertwined, their shadows stretching long under the golden hues of the setting sun.

Behind them, the white fox flicked its soft, fluffy tail, while the green peac0ck lifted its dazzling, slender feathers. Side by side, they followed their masters’ footsteps, gradually disappearing at the end of the corridor.

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the clouds in tranquil shades of orange and violet. The golden afterglow spilled gently across the sky, and a soft breeze stirred, rustling the papers on the desk.

On the last page of the “How To Use His Feathers” case file, under the section labeled “Final Treatment Plan,” was the line Zhu Ming had just written in bold strokes:

—Incurable by medicine, only love can heal.

[How To Use His Feathers] End of Main Text.

Author’s notes:

It’s finished la!

Longtime readers probably know that both the plot and characters in this story were outside my comfort zone. Before starting, I had to do a lot of mental preparation, and after writing, I realized many of my shortcomings. It was exhausting and made me pull my hair out, but at the same time, it was incredibly fulfilling!

No matter what, I’m really happy that I was able to present the story of the peac0ck and the fox completely and satisfyingly for everyone. ^_^

I’ve been really busy lately, so the extras will have to wait for a bit before I start writing them. Feel free to comment on what you’d like to see～

Last but not least, if you enjoyed this book, please follow my Changpei author’s column and my Weibo @芥菜糊糊—it would mean a lot to me ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Jie Jie: Thanks so much, everyone! This novel’s main text is finally done! :blobhighfive:

Thank you for your support! If you can, please support the author! Here’s the novel’s raw link :googleredheart:

I’ll be posting the extra chapter this week! I’ll monitor it from time to time to see if there’ll be more extras from the author :blobsnuggle: