A sharp pang struck Lu Huan’s heart. His fingers curled involuntarily as he looked at the finished flatbread, the emotions on his face a tangled mess.
After a moment, he furrowed his brows, messed up the flatbread he had already made, threw it into the stove fire, and washed the plate that had held it, not leaving behind a single trace.
───♡───
Su Xi had played games rather late last night. The next day, the sun was already high in the sky when she finally woke up. Since there was a time difference between her and the game world, by the time she logged in, two days and one night had already passed in-game.
Upon entering, it was nighttime again. Her first instinct was to switch the interface to the interior of the house to check on her little Zai Zai, who had still been feverish two nights ago. In the top-left corner, the stamina bar had already recovered to eighty percent—meaning that the Zai Zai’s cold had basically healed. A few more days of rest, and he would be lively again.
Her frantic efforts from last night hadn’t been in vain. Feeling a deep sense of accomplishment, Su Xi smiled faintly and looked toward the little Zai Zai lying on the bed.
It was midnight in the game. The moon hung high outside; all was still and silent. She had thought the game avatar would be fast asleep, but unexpectedly, he was tossing and turning on the bed, eyes open, seemingly troubled and unable to sleep.
His short, doodle-like legs curled up, puffing the blanket into a little hill.
His brows were knitted, his round bun-like face scrunched up—so much that one couldn’t help wanting to poke it.
…What’s wrong?
Was he worried about the crops or the hens not laying eggs?
Since he was awake, Su Xi didn’t dare do anything reckless inside the room, afraid that if she accidentally touched him, he’d think there was a ghost and be scared half to death.
So she switched the interface to outside the house and took a look around the firewood yard and was stunned.
Her little Zai Zai was way too diligent!
Even though he was still recovering, he must have worked hard yesterday too!
Outside the yard, rows upon rows of chive seedlings and early spring zucchini seeds had been planted, along with other crops—all arranged neatly and in perfect order!
Su Xi had thought that in this kind of farming game, all the planting would have to be done by her, the player. She hadn’t expected her little Zai Zai to be so self-motivated that she was practically useless!
However, there was a major problem—right now it was winter, freezing cold. Even if she planted winter crops, there wouldn’t be any harvest in the short term.
And with the low winter temperatures and long nights, the hens’ egg production would drop sharply, even stop altogether.
It would be difficult to complete Main Quest Two.
“Does the main quest have a time limit?” Su Xi asked.
“No, not really. Main quests can be done simultaneously, and none of them have time limits. But the more main quests you complete, the more points you earn. Once your points reach 100, you can communicate with the game’s protagonist. Don’t you want that?!”
Of course she wanted to! That was something even spending money couldn’t buy!
Immediately, she felt energized.
She switched the interface to the chicken coop beside the yard and stared at the group of chickens huddled together for warmth in the innermost corner. One hen’s comb had even cracked from the cold. Though they wouldn’t die from it, this weather would definitely affect their egg production. She pondered for a while.
Then she opened Baidu and typed: “How to raise chickens in winter?”
…Su Xi suspected that if her parents ever saw her Baidu search history, their expressions would be extremely strange.
Baidu was fairly reliable, providing a series of solutions. However, most of them—like temperature-controlled boxes and light lamps—were impossible in the ancient setting of the game.
Su Xi adapted quickly. She first bought materials from the in-game shop: wooden poles, tree branches, and bark panels. Then, following a blueprint, she pieced them together on the screen with her fingers. The process was like assembling building blocks—quite fun—and she quickly became absorbed in it.
When the structure was complete, she covered it with tar paper, then poured quicklime over it to repel mice and insects.
——And just like that, a large winter shelter was completed!
The little Zai Zai’s original fence pen was already perfect and ingenious enough for an ancient person, but Su Xi’s version made with the finest materials and according to the blueprint was clearly several levels more modernized!
Once she finished, she quietly set up the shelter right inside the little Zai Zai’s old fence.
The hens seemed to sense that the temperature was slowly changing—less cold now. A few of them ruffled their feathers, stood up to look for feed, and even two stretched their bodies, burrowing inward, as if they felt ready to start laying eggs.
But that wasn’t all. Su Xi, in a fit of frantic (and slightly unhinged) productivity, searched the in-game shop for hen oxytocin, sprinkled it madly over the feed, and made sure all the hens ate it—after all, items bought from the shop couldn’t possibly be useless!
After arranging the chicken coop, Su Xi moved her fingers again, turning over all the soil the little Zai Zai had planted before, and likewise sprinkled some growth-promoting items purchased from the shop.
With that done, her grand project was finally complete!
All in all, she had spent over 200 gold coins in bits and pieces—but when converted to RMB, that was just two yuan. Su Xi, now rich and generous, spent money in-game without a trace of heartache.
When she finished, a small harvest bar appeared in the upper-right corner.
The progress bar for Quest Two hadn’t even moved an inch.
But Su Xi wasn’t in a hurry. She saw that, after tossing and turning most of the night, the little Zai Zai seemed to have finally fallen asleep. So she went to eat breakfast herself, and when she finished, it was still dark in the game world. She logged back in to play for a bit, wandered here and there, and discovered traces of a fire in the kitchen—
Wow, had the little Zai Zai cooked something?
She was suddenly hungry.
Curious, Su Xi poked around the stove. Since she had started playing this game, she had never seen her little Zai Zai eat—his belly was always pitifully flat. But thinking about it, having survived for years in Prince Ning’s manor, he should know how to cook, right? She just didn’t know how it would taste.
After rummaging a bit, however, she found nothing but ashes and had no choice but to give up.
Other areas of the map were still locked. She opened the riverside scene—no one there either—so she returned to the firewood yard.
Inside the house, the small lump on the bed was sleeping soundly, though his brows were still furrowed.
Su Xi quietly opened the wardrobe and saw that the few snow-white robes she had thrown in there hadn’t been touched at all! Yet the two shabby furs the little avatar had bought himself from the street market earlier had been moved—
Zooming in, she noticed small holes along the edge of one of them. It looked like the little Zai Zai had tried to sew it onto his current clothes, but, unskilled at needlework, had clumsily pricked holes into the fabric and failed to attach it, so he’d had to pull the thread out again.
Su Xi quickly lifted the little avatar’s hand from the bed and zoomed in for a look.
Sure enough, his soft little hand had tiny pinprick marks of blood.
Su Xi couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter.
Good grief, how clumsy can you be?—and here she’d thought her little Zai Zai was omnipotent.
Even though she didn’t log in every night, every time she came online she could find traces of what her Zai Zai had done in her absence.
She pictured the doodle-like avatar sitting on the bed, solemnly staring at the clothes in his hands, trying to thread the needle, and yet ruining the fabric stitch by stitch—the mental image made her burst out laughing. It was just too cute.
She quickly opened the in-game shop and spent 20 gold coins to buy a “Sewing Skill.”
Before long, the two shabby furs had been neatly sewn onto the Zai Zai’s old clothes—after all, he refused to wear new ones. Though the furs were of poor quality, they were at least wind- and cold-resistant.
Feeling relieved, Su Xi put the game aside for now to do her homework, telling the system to “ding-dong” her if anything happened.
───♡───
Before dawn, Lu Huan awoke. He hadn’t slept well the night before. Opening his eyes, he stared blankly at the bed curtains, expressionless.
Ever since that night when the cold remedy had been delivered, that person hadn’t appeared again. It had been two full days, and now it was the third. The courtyard remained as empty as ever; only the sound of falling snow filled the air—so desolate that he felt utterly alone.
Each time he went out, he would look back again and again. When returning, while still walking through the bamboo grove, he would prick up his ears, listening carefully for any sound nearby.
But there was only silence—nothing but the sweeping wind and drifting snow.
Yesterday and the day before, he had paid close attention to the firewood yard, even to every flower and blade of grass.
But nothing had been touched again—
In other words, that person truly hadn’t come back.
By reason, this unexpected intrusion into his lifeless days, suddenly gone again, should have made him exhale in relief—perhaps even rejoice—just as he had been wary and guarded before. Yet for some reason, his heart… did not feel that way.
It was as if the ripples once stirred could no longer be stilled.
A faint, tangled irritation crossed Lu Huan’s face. He rose and dressed as usual.
He had planned to check on the chicken coop, but just as he opened the door, someone came calling from the old madam’s quarters: “Third Young Master, the Old Madam requests your presence in the main courtyard.”
Before, the servants had treated him with scorn, never calling him “Third Young Master.” But ever since that incident by the stream, when the Old Madam—who held the greatest authority in Prince Ning’s residence—had shown him a bit of favor, the servants no longer dared to bully him as before. They weren’t exactly kind, but at least they had restrained themselves somewhat.
Lu Huan frowned slightly.
The summons from the Old Madam’s side—could it be related to what he had been thinking about lately?
Half a month later, there would be a hunting event among the young nobles at Qiuyan Mountain.
The Second Prince would also be attending. The Ning Prince’s household was aligned with the Second Prince’s faction. However, in recent years, their influence had declined and failed to catch the Second Prince’s attention.
Therefore, Prince Ning and the Old Madam had been trying to push the two brothers, Lu Yuan and Lu Wenxiu, closer to the Second Prince’s circle, even sending them to the Imperial Academy. Unfortunately, Lu Yuan was of mediocre character, and Lu Wenxiu was simply too foolish—the Second Prince disdained to associate with them.
They had even once entertained the idea of adopting a foster daughter to send to the Second Prince’s bedside, but the Ning Princess was so jealous that before the plan could proceed—believing the foster daughter was having an affair with her husband—she killed the girl first.
Lu Huan understood all the twisted schemes within the Ning residence but never involved himself—choosing instead to remain prudent and self-preserving.
Now that Lu Wenxiu was confined under punishment, the Old Madam must have conceived another idea.
