Su Xi temporarily put down her phone to have dinner.

After finishing, she quickly returned to her room and opened the game interface.

During the time she was away eating, her hardworking little Zai Zai had already accomplished a great deal.

Aside from his daily tasks of harvesting eggs and cooking vegetables such as zucchini, he had also spent some effort weighing out the proportions of the medicinal ingredients Su Xi had previously given him — huanglian, huangbo, ganjiang, fuzi, xixin, and so on.

He returned indoors, spread a sheet of paper across the desk, rolled up his sleeves slightly, and focused intently. The exposed lines of his wrists were clean and slender, carrying a youthful clarity and resolve.

…Of course, in Su Xi’s eyes beyond the screen, it was merely a short-armed, short-legged cartoon Zai Zai standing at a table, looking solemn — with just a tiny bit of plump white arm showing.

Yet when she saw the fluid movements of his pen as he wrote out the prescription, Su Xi was stunned. As a liberal-arts student with only average grades, the kind of milligram-level calculation he was doing made her head spin. She asked the system, “He didn’t mess up the proportions, right?!”

The system replied, “Not off by a single fraction.”

“…!” Su Xi never thought there would come a day she’d feel admiration for the protagonist of a game!

— Her Zai Zai rose early and worked diligently, was bright and quick-witted, with a photographic memory. Though of humble birth, he held great ambition and compassion for the people. Was there anything this boy couldn’t accomplish?!

Su Xi felt a surge of respect. But soon another question arose: “If he makes medicine himself using the proportions from the in-game shop, will it still work? Or does it have to be bought from the shop to be effective?”

The system said, “The medicine from the shop has a one-hundred-percent effectiveness bonus. What he makes on his own naturally won’t be as strong. But following this one-to-one ratio, it should still reach about eighty percent effectiveness — enough to cure those gravely ill.”

That made sense. Su Xi couldn’t help but nod. After all, in ancient times, the herbal prescriptions written by physicians often had little effect. Even the imperial doctors in the palace would take ten days to half a month to cure a single case of typhoid.

But since her own medicine worked better, she decided she would simply buy more from the shop that night and send them to her Zai Zai.

With that thought, she watched as her Zai Zai swiftly finished writing the prescription. Then he spread out the large pile of medicinal herbs he had bought with those five taels of silver, measuring and combining them one by one. Soon, he had prepared fifteen sets of medicine.

As typhoid was rampant in the city, prices had gone up; his five taels of silver couldn’t buy much, so fifteen portions were all he could make.

At this dosage, he could only save fifteen commoners.

But Zai Zai seemed to have other plans.

After finishing the prescriptions, he set them aside for the moment and returned to the desk.

He lifted a brush, frowning slightly, as if deliberating what to write.

Seeing him start to write made Su Xi tense — it was like watching someone send a message while being unable to reply. Curiosity won out, and she zoomed in on the screen, enlarging the view of him and the paper on the desk.

───♡───

Lu Huan stared at the phoenix-feathered bow beside him, bound with a bright red ribbon, and fell deep into thought.

This phoenix-feathered bow was not something an ordinary person could afford — or even craft. In addition, the robes that person had sent him were all of fine silk and brocade, of great value — the kind only those in the imperial palace or of noble rank in the capital could obtain.

From these, one could already deduce that person’s identity was anything but ordinary.

Furthermore, the uniquely designed cold-resistant tent and the typhoid medicine formula — something scarcely heard of before — implied that this person must be highly skilled in mechanical design and pharmacology.

And one more thing: that person came and went freely, so they must also possess exceptional martial ability.

Lu Huan quietly analyzed in his heart—

In the entire capital, who could possibly possess all three of those traits at once?

Yet, after pondering for a long while, he still couldn’t make sense of it.

The first time, he had left a note directly asking who that person was, but they had never replied. That alone showed that they had no intention of revealing their identity. Which, in truth, made sense—if they had wished to tell him, they wouldn’t have gone out of their way to avoid him each time.

However, the second time, he had left behind two gifts, and that person had taken them. This meant that although they didn’t want to reveal who they were, they were still willing to communicate with him.

If that was the case… why not try to learn a little more about them?

───♡───

Su Xi watched the little Zai Zai on the screen fall into deep thought for a long time before finally lowering his brush and writing a line on the paper.

Afraid that he would ask another question she couldn’t possibly answer, Su Xi tensed all over and hurriedly zoomed in to see what he had written.

This time, however, the handwriting wasn’t as bold and urgent as the last two times—it was more restrained, hesitant, carrying a trace of uncertainty.

—— “The longevity noodles from last time were delicious. But… could you make me your best hometown dish?”

After finishing, Lu Huan lifted his brush, and a flicker of uncertainty rippled through his dark eyes.

If that person were to make their best hometown dish—just as they had made the birthday noodles last time—then by observing what dish it was, how much salt or sugar they used, he could roughly deduce which region that person hailed from.

But… would such a request be too abrupt?

He wanted to know who that person truly was—Why they had appeared in his stagnant, lifeless world, and what their true intentions were.

But if that person only saw him as a passing amusement, then such a request might bore them, make them lose interest.

If they stopped appearing because of it…

At that thought, Lu Huan’s dark lashes trembled lightly.

───♡───

Su Xi, staring at the words her Zai Zai had written, was utterly taken aback.

Wait—her poor, silent, and pitiful Zai Zai wanted to eat a hometown dish? She was happy to make it for him, sure, but what on earth was going on now?

Was she the one playing the game… or was the game playing her?

Why did it feel like she was becoming more and more passive here? Was that just her imagination?!

Su Xi sat there dazed for quite a while, still trying to process why her Zai Zai would make such a request—when she saw him suddenly frown, his face flickering with a mix of irritation and complicated emotion.

Then, he furrowed his brows, crumpled the note on which he’d written the request, and tossed it aside, as though giving up on the idea entirely.

Lu Huan hadn’t decided what he should write.

…Because he still didn’t know that person’s true intentions, he feared that all of this might be nothing more than some elaborate game meant to toy with him.

Even so, deep down, there was a faint, foolish hope—

…Even if it was a game, he still wished that person would stay by his side a little longer.

But if his request brought that person annoyance or impatience…

Then—

Lu Huan tightened his grip on the brush.

And in the end, what he wrote upon the paper was:

Su Xi looked closely, and saw her Zai Zai had changed it to—

—— “Though I don’t know who you are, I’m very fond of you.”

Those few simple words, under the glow of the evening sun and the light reflecting off the falling snow, seemed to blur and soften, carrying a quiet, tender warmth.

…Su Xi’s face flushed red at once.

Of course, she didn’t even know why she was blushing—

What did that silly Zai Zai mean by that, huh?

Wasn’t it basically the same as saying, “Thank you, dear mother, for appearing in my life”?!

Su Xi was still feeling delighted—when suddenly, she saw her Zai Zai frowning again, staring at that note with a tangled expression, clearly dissatisfied.

His long, slender fingers crumpled the note once more.

“Swoosh—” He tossed it away.

Su Xi: “…”

Then he rewrote it, changing the message to—“Though I don’t know who you are, thank you for the bow. I’m very fond of it.”

Su Xi: “????”

Wait—he just added five more words, yet somehow all the feeling was gone?

In an instant, it turned from a heartfelt line into something like, ‘Oh, thanks for the bow, much appreciated.’

So distant! So polite! So… businesslike!

It was as if their relationship had suddenly shifted—from a warm parent-child bond to that of a philanthropist and a grateful recipient!

Lu Huan gazed at the third note he had finally settled on, feeling it was at last appropriate.

He quietly exhaled, rubbed at his brow, and placed the new note neatly on the desk as he always did.

Today, he put it inside a wooden box, leaving the lid open—if that person came, they would surely see it.

Then he turned and began tidying up, wrapping the fifteen sets of medicine in a piece of cloth, preparing to go out.

Su Xi watched her Zai Zai finish everything, sling the little bundle over his shoulder, and head for the door.

Whenever he went out, he would always put on a cloak and a black hat, keeping a low profile.

She used to think he looked best in snow-white clothes, but now, well—maybe it was just the mother’s gaze toward her beloved Zai Zai—even dressed in black, he looked impossibly adorable.

Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about those three notes.

She felt utterly defeated—she hadn’t even managed to take a screenshot of the second note before her Zai Zai crumpled it up and burned it in the candle flame.

Su Xi couldn’t figure out why he’d burned two of them and only kept the last.

She could only assume that he had wanted to ask for a hometown dish but had withdrawn the request, afraid of troubling her.

If that’s the case—

Su Xi rolled up her sleeves, turned her gaze toward the small kitchen in Zai Zai’s courtyard, and thought—Fine then! I’ll just make him a special dish myself and show him!

But before that—the most urgent task was still to follow him to Yong’an Temple and assist in rescuing the sick.