Having safely completed the side quest, Su Xi swiftly switched the screen back to her little one.
The moment the view shifted, the scene beneath the pear blossom tree made Su Xi’s breath catch.
───♡───
Night had completely fallen. The surroundings were open and silent, with only a few pear petals drifting down in the cold wind, like fine, scattered snowflakes.
Her little one—small, round-faced, expressionless—was sitting beneath the tree, hugging his knees.
He looked as if he had been waiting for a long time. A layer of white had gathered on his shoulders, and the light of expectation in his eyes had long gone out in the chill wind.
He wore a red-and-black robe. It didn’t show bloodstains clearly, only that the colors had darkened, dirtied. His pale neck and face had a few flecks of blood on them, and his long black hair was slightly disheveled. To his right was a quiver with seven arrows remaining; to his left lay a white wolf’s head—ferocious and terrifying, yet holding a kind of absolute, fearsome beauty.
There were messy traces near the entrance of a nearby cave.
The cold wind blew, sneaking down the collar of his neck and making his robe flutter, yet he seemed not to feel it, still waiting there.
How long had he been waiting?
Su Xi knew her little one had nervously and hopefully asked to meet her. But she simply couldn’t make it happen, and in the end, it came to this…
Yet seeing him now—after slaying the wolf king, hurrying beneath the pear tree to wait for her—watching the time slip away little by little, excitement fading from his eyes until the light within them completely stilled like a calm lake…
…seeing that, Su Xi’s heart ached all the same.
This game had clearly gone far beyond what an ordinary game could do. Though Su Xi was bound to the system, she’d always thought of all the in-game characters as stick figures—just artificially intelligent, realistic little models of people.
But now, as she watched this scene, she felt as though her little one truly existed in another world—a living, breathing person of flesh and blood.
And the more she thought that way, the guilt in her chest grew heavier for not showing up.
He had waited for her so long in the freezing wind, the blood on his face frozen stiff. What began as anticipation slowly turned into unease, and then into disappointment—
She shouldn’t have made him wait. If she had known it would turn out like this, she should have at least left some sign, something to tell him she couldn’t come…
Su Xi hadn’t expected her little one to wait so stubbornly.
Nor had she expected that ghosting a game character would make her feel this bitter inside.
Su Xi sat in silence outside the screen; her little one, inside the screen, was silent too.
───♡───
There was still about a stick of incense’s time before the hunting party was due to return, but because of the Second Prince’s assassination incident, the horn at the foot of the mountain was blown early.
The young nobles began heading back one after another.
This area was remote, close to the snow wolf king’s cave, and no one passed through—it remained utterly still.
Su Xi thought that by now, after waiting so long without seeing anyone, her little one would finally give up and head down the mountain.
He heard the commotion from below—the shouting and chaos from the camp—but still, he didn’t move. He just waited.
Until the final grains of time in that stick of incense ran out, until the sky turned pitch-black, ink-dark, only then did he realize that the person he’d been waiting for would not come. The faint spark still left in his eyes went out with a soft “snap,” and he slowly braced himself against the tree and stood.
He lingered there a moment longer, gazing at the vast, endless night sky. Then he lifted the snow wolf king’s head, untied the reins of his horse, and led it down the mountain.
Watching the small figure of her little one walking through the cold night, Su Xi’s heart—like that of a helpless mother—felt pierced through and through.
If not for the fear of scaring him half to death, she might have pulled him back just to tell him, I was here. I really was.
───♡───
Lu Huan led the horse, carrying the snow wolf king’s head. His lashes lowered, lips pressed tight, expression unreadable.
That person, in the end, hadn’t come.
That person would never come. He had actually expected as much. From the start, when that person had avoided him while delivering gifts, it had already been clear that they didn’t want to reveal their identity.
The request to meet—he had forced that upon that person.
He had only thought that after all their exchanges these past days, perhaps that person would find it hard to bear seeing him sad, that there might be one tiny chance in ten thousand that they’d grant him this small wish.
But from daylight until the night turned black, that person had not shown even the faintest trace of their self…
It seemed—he had overestimated himself.
Although before today, Lu Huan had been filled with longing and anticipation for this meeting, now that the person hadn’t appeared, he wasn’t as devastated as being drenched by a bucket of cold water. Though there was a faint hollowness in his chest, it wasn’t unbearable.
After all, he had already prepared himself to wait in vain for a day.
Besides, the fact that they didn’t come didn’t mean that person had left his side entirely.
As long as that person was still there, whether he could see them or not didn’t really matter.
Thinking this, Lu Huan steadied his thoughts, forced the corners of his lips—slightly drooping from disappointment—into composure, and walked quickly toward the camp at the foot of the mountain.
───♡───
By now, the camp below was in utter chaos. A prince being attacked during a royal hunt was an extremely serious matter.
Su Xi switched the interface over, and when she saw her little one appear carrying the snow wolf king’s head, the gathered noble sons all gasped in shock.
Unfazed by the crowd, he walked straight through them, handed the snow wolf king’s head to a guard from Prince Ning’s manor to present as his trophy, and instantly, more than half of the people’s gazes were drawn to him.
Some of the young nobles even came forward to congratulate him. Su Xi finally felt a bit of relief.
Her little one, who had been so despondent under the pear tree just now, seemed better now—his face was still expressionless, but the faint melancholy between his brows had eased.
Su Xi finally relaxed a little.
Unknowingly, she had been playing until seven o’clock. From outside her door came her mother’s knock.
“Xixi, are you done reviewing? Come out for dinner.”
Su Xi jerked her head up, glanced at the time, then at the review book on her desk.
Damn! She had almost forgotten she had an exam tomorrow!
She hastily put down her phone and went out for dinner.
───♡───
After Su Xi logged off, the camp at the foot of the mountain was still in an uproar. The princes and noble sons all gathered around the wounded Second Prince. His wound was deep—terrifyingly so—but strangely enough, someone had applied healing medicine to it, and he had already regained consciousness.
The Crown Prince, his expression grave, was ordering men to investigate the assassination thoroughly and uncover the culprit. The guards were in a frenzy.
Beside the bonfire, the Fifth Prince sat beside the Second Prince, his face full of concern.
“Second Brother, you scared me half to death! It’s good that you’re fine. Did you see the faces of those who attacked you?”
Meanwhile, the Third Prince stood by the imperial physician, studying a stray lantern that had been found nearby. He smirked lazily.
“Second Brother, seems someone saved you, huh? Who knows, it might’ve been some hunter or a guard’s daughter from these mountains. Perhaps this could turn into a romantic story.”
The Second Prince leaned weakly against a guard’s support, frowning as he said hoarsely, “How do you know it was a woman? There aren’t many women on this mountain. When I woke up, I found myself dragged from the streamside near the camp—no woman would have that kind of strength.”
“True,” the Third Prince muttered, instantly losing interest.
“It could have been a servant or retainer from one of the noble houses,” the Crown Prince said solemnly. “In any case, whoever saved my second brother will be duly rewarded. Have the young nobles come take a look, whose lantern is this?”
The young nobles came forward one by one.
The lantern was the most ordinary kind—woven from straw, with a cheap oil wick inside. Even their lowest servants wouldn’t use something so plain.
However, there were a few tiny characters carved along the handle. The princes and nobles leaned in for a closer look but couldn’t make sense of them.
The characters were small and curling like tadpoles, strange and foreign, resembling the script of an outside tribe, or perhaps random marks carved with a bamboo knife—seemingly without meaning.
That line of tiny text read:
“madethe game mall.”
What did it mean?
The princes and noble sons couldn’t make sense of it, so they treated it as some meaningless pattern and dismissed it.
But when the lantern was handed to Lu Huan, his long black lashes trembled ever so slightly, almost nervously.
His gaze, startled, fell upon the healing powder smeared across the Second Prince’s chest. He stared for a long moment, then his deep, dark eyes shifted back to the lantern—his blood-stained face tightening, turning grim.
Those tiny, seemingly meaningless letters—he had seen them before.
They were on the rabbit-shaped lantern that person had given him.
Every morning, he would take the rabbit lantern down from under the eaves. Every dusk, he would light its candle and hang it back up. Day after day, he had lovingly held it in his hands, turning it over and over until the lacquer on its long handle had nearly worn away. How could he not have noticed?
He had simply thought they were decorative carvings.
He hadn’t expected that the same strange marks would appear on this straw lantern too.
Which meant—this lantern belonged to that person.
And the Second Prince—had been saved by that person as well?
Yes… that would make sense. The healing powder’s effect was extraordinary, only that person could have such medicine. Saving the Second Prince while concealing identity—yes, that was exactly the kind of thing that person would do.
Lu Huan stood still, lips pressed tightly together, expression dark and unreadable. He made no move, only stared at the lantern in his hands.
Last time, that person had helped Master Ding for his sake. But this time, saving the Second Prince had nothing to do with him.
Why had she saved the Second Prince? Was it part of some other plan?
It wasn’t as if that person had wronged him. In truth, he had no right to interfere in anything she did.
If he were to resent that person for that faint, irrational possessiveness sprouting in his heart—one he didn’t dare admit even to himself—it would be ridiculous.
And yet, right now, his mind went blank. The thought kept looping endlessly: So that person is not only kind to me, after all.
He couldn’t think of anything else. His fingers, holding the lantern’s handle, slowly grew cold.
He had thought she hadn’t come at all.
But it turned out—she had come.
She just hadn’t come to meet him.
She had come… to save the Second Prince.
Lu Huan’s lashes quivered, and the color drained from his face.
