It had to be said, this game really knew how to stir a player’s emotions. If before Su Xi had planned to play slowly and steadily, now her impulse to spend money and unlock points had instantly reached its peak!
Who could possibly resist—her little Zai Zai standing silently in front of the table for a moment, then walking to the woodshed’s threshold, brushing his robe aside to sit down, elbows on his knees, propping up that round, bun-like face, gazing alone at the quiet, empty courtyard as the sun sank in the west, that look of utter loneliness—?!
Su Xi’s heart broke. Truly.
She quickly switched to the area where the kitchen masters of Prince Ning’s residence lived, deciding that however many side quests she could complete, she would do so as quickly as possible. Even if she had to work herself half to death, she had to reach one hundred points as soon as she could.
Of course, what she didn’t know was that Lu Huan, sitting at the doorway, showed no extra emotion on his face—he was merely frowning in thought.
That person who had come this time, although they hadn’t answered his question, had at least proved one thing: the times of their appearances did indeed follow a pattern.
If he could grasp that pattern, he might be able to gain at least a bit of initiative.
But of course, Lu Huan knew—that person was abnormally cautious. If he pretended to leave and suddenly turned back midway, the moment he appeared near the bamboo grove, that person would probably have already vanished without a trace.
That was not a good method.
Besides, Lu Huan had noticed that everything the other had done so far had a clear purpose.
Whether it was repairing the roof or bringing him longevity noodles for his birthday, all of it seemed to show care for him, to be for his benefit. And as for replying to his questions—perhaps the other simply found such things meaningless, and so ignored them.
…Of course, all of this was merely Lu Huan’s conjecture.
That person was far too mysterious—appearing like a dragon glimpsed only by its head, never its tail. The traces left behind were few and faint. It was hard for Lu Huan to obtain any useful information; he could only rely on the tiniest hints to speculate.
Therefore, if he wanted to discover that person’s identity now, what he had to do was find a way to make them leave some trace behind.
That person might not respond to his written notes, but what if he used another method to test them?
He wanted to find out who that person was.
He didn’t even know why this thought burned so strongly within him.
Was it because the other hid in the dark while he stood in the light, this passivity leaving him with no sense of security?
Or was it because—he simply wanted to know who that person was, who had cared for him through the stormy night of his illness, who had given him the first birthday gift of his barren life—from charcoal to warm boots, to a fur-lined robe sewn by hand, who had given him so, so much…
Or was it because, deep down, he feared that the other had only come on a whim—that before long, they would drift away like smoke, vanishing without a trace?
If that person suddenly disappeared one day and never came again—and only then did he realize it, too late—
Then he…
Lu Huan’s fingers curled involuntarily.
He looked toward the rabbit-shaped lantern he had refilled with new oil and hung again beneath the eaves. His eyes, dim under the candlelight, hid countless emotions, unfathomable and deep.
On the map, Su Xi found Master Ding, who appeared in the side quest [Have Master Ding Serve the Protagonist].
Through the side gate by the creek were the courtyards of the Fourth Concubine and the other concubines; separated by several walls and a garden, to the right lay the area where the more notable servants lived. Fortunately, she had unlocked it last time, so she could click straight in.
It was the quarters of several kitchen masters. On the shared sleeping platform, only Master Ding lay there.
He was a thin, shriveled stick of a man—like a walking matchstick—lying weakly on his side in bed, looking deathly pale and sickly.
Beside him sat a bowl of medicine, with much of the dark liquid spilled across the floor.
Su Xi tapped on him.
A panel immediately popped up on the screen.
> Character: Master Ding.
> Current status: HP 20%, stamina 5.
> Suffering from severe typhoid.
> Due to the lack of medical advancement in ancient times, once typhoid becomes too serious, there is almost no cure. Only death awaits.
Indeed, typhoid was a grave illness in ancient times. The wives of noble heirs might still survive, as they could summon an imperial physician.
But this Master Ding—his clothes were tattered, and the medicine by his bedside was clearly prescribed by some wandering street doctor. He had likely spent all the savings he’d accumulated from his years working in Prince Ning’s residence just to afford that one consultation.
Suddenly, two kitchen servants came in from outside. Seeing Master Ding still lying there, they shouted, “You plague-ridden wretch, why haven’t you left yet?! Didn’t the steward tell you to pack up and get out?!”
Master Ding, so emaciated that the veins on his neck stood out, said in a breath as weak as thread, “I didn’t steal anything from the steward. Even if I’m dismissed and must return to my hometown, before that, I’ll have him clear my name!”
“Clear what name?! Get out, out, out! What if your sickness spreads to us? We’ve got families to feed too, damn it!”
The two servants strode forward, grabbed Master Ding’s arms and legs, and yanked hard—then threw him straight out of the room.
Master Ding landed in the snow, coughing violently. He looked like a dying dog, too weak to even crawl back up.
This whole sequence played out like a side-story cutscene before Su Xi’s eyes. She was stunned—she hadn’t even had time to help the old man up.
From the side gate, someone suddenly came running and hurriedly lifted Master Ding from the ground, glaring angrily at the two servants. “You’ll get what’s coming to you! Back when you were apprentices, my godfather took good care of you and now you repay him with such heartless betrayal!”
It was none other than Guard Bing, the same one who had gone out to sell eggs for the little Zai Zai.
So they were godfather and godson.
Master Ding coughed and shook his head. “Don’t stir up trouble. Just help me back to your place first.”
Guard Bing, a large and sturdy character with a simple, honest look, was built like a wall—you could practically see the six-pack through his clothes.
But seeing his godfather cough up mouthfuls of blood, the big man grew anxious to tears. He wiped his face and said, “Alright, Dad, don’t worry. I’ll find a way to cure you. If that last doctor couldn’t do it, we’ll find another one.”
Master Ding gave a bitter smile. “Ah… but after all these years working in Prince Ning’s household, we’ve nearly spent every coin we saved. How can we afford another doctor now…”
Guard Bing supported Master Ding toward another courtyard. He frowned for a while, then suddenly said, “How about we go to the Third Young Master for help!”
“Dad, you know those eggs the Third Young Master had me sell today? A few of them turned out to be double-yolked! That made the price go up by several coins!”
“Double-yolked eggs?!”
Double-yolked eggs symbolized great fortune and prosperity. In the capital, they were supplied almost exclusively to the royal family and nobility, selling for far more than ordinary eggs.
Master Ding was astonished when he heard this.
He knew the agricultural trade in the capital like the back of his hand, which made it all the more unbelievable!
It was winter now—freezing cold outside. Chickens in most farms had either died or fallen ill. The few eggs available in the capital were all sent to noble households. Egg production was extremely low; they were nearly impossible to buy!
Prices had already risen from six coins to nearly eight per egg—
Yet the Third Young Master had only bought a few hens and casually raised them in his shabby courtyard. How could it be that, in just a few days, they had produced over a hundred and ninety eggs?!
This was simply too unbelievable, utterly like something out of a fantasy tale!
And his son even said some of those eggs were double-yolked!
“I sold all those eggs today for a total of three taels and eighty wen,” Guard Bing said bitterly. “I’ve never seen so much silver at once in my entire life! Dad, if we could raise chickens that laid this many eggs, we’d never have to worry about not affording medicine again.”
The father and son sighed as they returned to Guard Bing’s quarters.
Watching them from the side, Su Xi couldn’t help but sigh as well—they were just too pitiful.
But as she watched Master Ding coughing violently, she suddenly thought of a way to complete this side quest—helping her little Zai Zai win these two people’s loyalty.
She opened the shop and quietly placed a small package in Guard Bing’s room.
Then, imitating the handwriting from the note her Zai Zai had once left for her, she wrote another one.
When the father and son returned, Guard Bing was just about to help his godfather sit down and pour him water when he noticed several packets of medicine sitting on the table—he had no idea who had brought them.
He jumped in surprise.
Beside them was a note pressed under a bowl, with detailed instructions on how to boil and take the medicine, but no signature.
Guard Bing was literate enough to recognize a few characters. The handwriting—bold and flowing, elegant yet powerful—was clearly written by someone of high status. There was no way an ordinary servant could write like that.
He stood there in shock. The cost of these few packets of medicine must have been at least half a tael of silver! Who could be so kindhearted? Just when he’d been worrying about how to afford medicine for his father, someone had brought it right to their door. Could it be that his father was saved?
Overcome with joy, he shook Master Ding’s arm. “Dad, look—could this be a gift from some good soul?”
“What’s this?” Master Ding opened one of the packets and sniffed it. It was indeed medicine for treating typhoid. He froze for a moment, then trembled. “We father and son have nothing, poor and alone. How could anyone reach out to help us?”
───♡───
Su Xi, having just finished her little scheme, didn’t even get the chance to check on her Zai Zai before it was her turn for the medical exam.
The nurse was calling her name, so Su Xi quickly put down her phone and went in for her checkup.
Meanwhile, Lu Huan had never expected that, over the next few days, those hens would lay even more eggs than before.
The first time he had Guard Bing sell them, they’d earned three taels and eighty wen. Lu Huan had kept three taels for himself, placing them into his pouch, and given the remaining eighty wen to Guard Bing. After all, if he wanted people to work diligently, he had to offer some reward.
Guard Bing, who had been downcast before due to his father’s illness, seemed to brighten up afterward—as if his father’s condition had suddenly improved. His spirits lifted, and he ran errands with renewed energy and focus.
Over the following days, they continued selling eggs. Taking advantage of the winter scarcity, they raised the prices again. After a few repeats of this, Lu Huan already had ten taels of silver in hand.
All this in just a few short days.
He tucked the silver into his pouch. Once he saved enough through selling eggs, his plan was to rent a small farmstead from Prince Ning’s household.
In addition, the leeks, zucchinis, and other vegetables he had carefully tended had begun to show signs of growth. He didn’t know if, on that night when the mysterious person had helped him replant the crops, they had left something behind in the little fenced plot—but somehow, the plants were growing at a rate far beyond his expectations.
These past few days, things had been calm in the household of Lady Ning—it seemed she was merely waiting for the day of the royal hunt.
Lu Huan glanced at the silver in his hand. He had once only had three taels, most of which had gone to buy tools, materials, and seeds. Yet now, through selling eggs alone, he had earned ten taels. Originally, he had planned to spend five taels on birchwood and feathers, but that day—he suddenly changed his mind.
He went into the marketplace and bought something else.
───♡───
Su Xi and her mother were busy with the discharge paperwork and packing up the things from her hospital bed, which took some time. When she finally got into the taxi—her father helping her in while she leaned on her crutch—she immediately opened the game interface.
Her mother, sitting in the passenger seat, saw her playing yet again and was instantly annoyed. Snatching the phone from her hand, she scolded, “Xixi, you’re playing games even in the car? Don’t you know that’s bad for your eyes?”
Su Xi was speechless, her throat tightening. She could only wait until she got out to play again.
Once they reached home, her parents carried the bags into the apartment building while she hopped along behind them on one leg, crutch in hand, bouncing her way into the elevator.
After they had received the lottery winnings last time, her parents had decided to buy a new house—this had already been set in motion. Su Xi thought to herself, If they knew this new house was all thanks to the luck I got from playing games, would they still try to stop me from playing?
Back home, she was finally free from the smell of hospital disinfectant and felt much lighter.
She flopped down onto the sofa and turned on her phone.
The moment the screen lit up, she headed straight into her little Zai Zai’s house. While she’d been handling the hospital paperwork, she had occasionally logged in, so she already knew what her Zai Zai had been up to these past few days.
The egg-production counter in the top right corner had been soaring—clear proof that her Zai Zai had been working hard.
As for Guard Bing and Master Ding, those two blockheads still hadn’t realized who their benefactor was. Su Xi planned to log in and give them a hint.
Besides that, she’d discovered her Zai Zai was trying to make a bow and arrow set, so she intended to spend some money to buy one for him.
The Zai Zai wasn’t home again, he must have gone out.
But just as Su Xi was about to switch screens, she suddenly noticed something new: on the table inside the room lay a sheet of paper, the ink so deep it had bled through the back.
She froze in alarm. No way—he left another note?! If he did, and she couldn’t reply again, wouldn’t he be upset once more?
Still, she couldn’t resist leaning closer to see what he had written this time.
> “I’ve chosen a gift, hoping you’ll like it.”
The final stroke lingered slightly, as though he had paused in thought.
A gift? What gift?
Su Xi’s eyes lit up, her heart pounding with excitement. Wait—did my little Zai Zai just make his first earnings and buy me, his old mother, a gift?! A sudden rush of emotion surged through her—like playing a game, expecting only coins and rewards for completing a task, but unexpectedly triggering a hidden treasure chest instead!
And those words he wrote—too charming, too sweet! Her heart fluttered wildly; even the time that annoying guy at school had brought her milk tea hadn’t made her this giddy.
Her hands trembled as she flipped through the desk, and sure enough—beside the ink, brush, paper, and inkstone—sat two exquisitely carved little boxes.
Inside one lay a luminous pearl belt, faintly glowing, clearly meant for a man.
Inside the other rested a delicate hollowed silver hairpin. In the light reflecting off the snow outside, it gleamed softly, breathtakingly beautiful—something a woman would wear.
… Oh my god, they’re both so gorgeous!!
Su Xi was overwhelmed, eyes brimming with tears, fingers hovering over the two gifts—torn between them, nearly paralyzed by indecision. Why are these things only inside the game and not in real life?!
No—if she couldn’t take them out, she’d find a way to take them anyway!
