Lu Huan stood in the courtyard, head tilted back, his throat tightening as he gazed at the fireworks for a long time.

Those fireworks bloomed one after another, radiant and resplendent, bursting endlessly into the night.

The commoners outside Prince Ning’s residence seemed puzzled as well. Many went out into the streets to see what was happening. The noisy commotion carried over the courtyard walls, and even the servants exclaimed in delight, “Look! Who’s setting off fireworks?”

The clamor gradually pulled Lu Huan back from his ecstasy… He felt as if he had just awakened from a long dream. Looking around, he saw only the empty darkness of the night. The courtyard was deserted—only himself remaining… The blood that had surged to his head slowly began to cool.

He couldn’t help but bend down, pick up a pebble, and throw it toward the nearby courtyard wall.

What came back was only the faint thud of the stone falling to the ground.

Not even an echo.

The heart that had been soaring with joy began to stiffen.

So the fireworks were merely set off by someone in the streets… Could it be that person hadn’t returned after all?

But just now—just now he had felt it. Every time that person came, he would always have that feeling…

Could it be that his intuition was wrong this time? Was he just imagining things again?

Lu Huan stared at the night sky, the cold wind brushing against his face. After that brief surge of joy, only a chill like a bucket of cold water poured over his head remained.

He stood there in a daze for quite a while, suddenly feeling somewhat ridiculous—he knew he was being ridiculous, yet after turning around, he still didn’t go back inside. Instead, he slowly walked toward the bamboo grove.

Ridiculous then, so be it, he thought. What if it wasn’t just an illusion? What if that person truly had returned?

If that person didn’t wish to see him, then he would go to the bamboo grove to avoid her, give her time to leave a note, and then come back out.

Only—Lu Huan walked very slowly, head lowered, his hands and feet slightly cold.

He stared at the stones beneath his feet, thinking to himself: if that person didn’t come, then even if he stayed in the bamboo grove all night, she wouldn’t leave behind any note in reply.

───♡───

Su Xi didn’t know why, but after the fireworks ended, her little Zai Zai didn’t seem happy at all. The expression on his face returned to gloom. He didn’t go back inside but, after a moment of silence, walked toward the bamboo grove—what was he going to do?

Su Xi couldn’t guess his thoughts, but she saw him walk to the far end of the grove, almost reaching the edge of the yard, before stopping.

He found a spot, sat down slowly, and just like before when he had sat by the door, he slightly lowered his head, lost in thought.

The tiny figure sat upon a small stone, looking lonely and desolate.

…What’s going on?

Why go sit in the bamboo grove, in the cold wind, in the middle of the night?

Su Xi’s nose was still sore from emotion, yet she watched this series of actions she couldn’t make sense of. It seemed the fireworks she’d just set off hadn’t made her Zai Zai realize she had returned.

She had to take advantage of his absence from the house to leave some kind of message, to tell him she’d been here all along.

Thinking so, Su Xi didn’t bother wondering what he was thinking and hurriedly switched the scene back to the house.

What should she give him this time to make him a little happier?

Should she find an excuse, say she’d gone out for a while and just came back today—so it wouldn’t seem like she’d abandoned him?

Or should she just go straight for his interests, and give him something he liked?

Su Xi lay on the bed, tugging at her hair, deeply feeling how hard it must be for kindergarten teachers to coax little children.

So then—what exactly did her Zai Zai want? What could she give him that would make him happy?

In truth, Su Xi didn’t know what her Zai Zai liked. He had never shown any clear fondness for anything—except that one time, when he had, for the very first time, asked her for a dish from his hometown.

Su Xi hadn’t forgotten that. She’d been thinking ever since about what kind of hometown dish would feel special, but no matter how much she pondered, she couldn’t think of any particularly distinctive ones. After all, many dishes that existed only in the twenty-first century couldn’t be exchanged in the game’s marketplace.

But tonight—it was time to fulfill that wish for her Zai Zai.

Su Xi opened the marketplace and carefully browsed through the section for dishes. There were many kinds of food, but one immediately caught her eye—osmanthus perch.

Su Xi especially liked eating fish. In the picture, fine golden osmanthus petals scattered across the white belly of the fish, pale yellow and white intermingled, looking fresh and delicious. And since it was the turn of deep winter and early spring in the game, there wouldn’t be any osmanthus blooming in September, making this dish rather special.

It could even count as one of her own hometown dishes.

Su Xi quickly bought a food box, placed the osmanthus perch inside, and then carefully picked out a few other things.

───♡───

Lu Huan had been sitting on the small stone in the bamboo grove the whole time. His heart was uneasy—anxious, fearful, and disappointed. He stared at the night sky where the fireworks had bloomed moments ago; now it was empty and dark. He was almost certain he’d been deluding himself—to think that just because of a few fireworks, he’d believed that person had come back.

Yet even as his heart sank straight down, he couldn’t help nurturing a faint, fragile hope—

Was it really impossible? Could that person truly have returned?

Lu Huan’s thoughts were in turmoil, his mind a mess.

Just then, he heard a faint noise from the direction of the room.

The bamboo grove was far from the door, yet the surroundings were so still—and Lu Huan had been keeping his ears sharp—that even that faint sound reached him instantly.

…Perhaps it was just some dead branches in the courtyard stirred by the wind?

But almost at once, Lu Huan stood up. He didn’t care whether he might be disappointed later—his heart, which moments ago had been silent and cold, began pounding wildly again. He strode forward, then broke into a run, the hem of his robe whipping in the cold wind.

He rushed back into the house, his black hair tousled by the wind. Seeing that the room was empty, no one inside, he forced himself to suppress the fleeting sting of disappointment and looked toward the desk.

On the desk—

After eight days, there was something new again.

Lu Huan’s heart thudded violently. He could hardly believe his eyes.

That person had come back.

That person had come back?

That person had come back!!!

He had thought they would never return—but then, the fireworks just now, he hadn’t guessed wrong after all! It really had been that person who set them off, hadn’t it? He knew it—he’d always known his instincts about that person’s appearances were strangely accurate!

Lu Huan was like a child who, after losing his precious candy, had finally found it again—he had never in his life been so happy.

His gray, misty eyes lit up in an instant—like a lighthouse suddenly ignited in the darkness—turning deep and luminous.

His heart nearly leapt to his throat. The color rushed back into his once-pale face; his eyes reddened as he quickly walked toward the desk.

Outside the screen, Su Xi saw the unhidden joy and excitement on her little Zai Zai’s face, and she sniffled softly.

Perhaps because of the long separation, or because of the nervous tenderness that comes with reunion, even though Lu Huan longed to clutch the gifts tightly in his hands and never let go, when they were right before him, he actually hesitated to open them.

He was afraid—that once the gifts were sent, that person would disappear again for a long, long time…

There were three wooden boxes on the desk.

Lu Huan forced himself to steady his wildly beating heart, took a deep breath, and opened the first box.

Inside were fireworks.

The shape of the fireworks was distinct—not the ordinary kind one could buy on the streets.

Lu Huan’s heart filled with joy. He tried hard to restrain it, but tonight he truly couldn’t hold it back. After all, no one was around; there was no need to hide it. At last, he reached out and gently touched them.

The second box.

Lu Huan opened it even more slowly than the first, perhaps out of a hint of reluctance.

When he finally lifted the lid, he found a packet of seeds inside, faintly fragrant—it seemed to be… pear blossom seeds?

What did that person mean by this?

Eight days ago, she hadn’t come to meet him and hadn’t seen the pear blossom tree—was she telling him to plant a row of pear trees himself?

Though he didn’t quite understand her intention, Lu Huan still felt happy. His gaze, dark as obsidian, shone as if he were touching something he treasured deeply.

He lifted the pear blossom seeds and brought them close to his nose to smell.

One last box remained.

Lu Huan was like a child unwrapping beloved gifts—when he reached the final one, he grew even more reluctant to open it.

He looked at the box several times, trying hard to keep the joy from spilling over between his brows and the corners of his eyes. Then he quickly spread out paper and ink, dipped his brush in ink, and pressed the tip against the paper.

With his left hand, he rubbed his face to calm himself before he began to write a note.

But even as he wrote, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help curling upward.

Outside the screen, Su Xi watched him, unable to restrain her own grin. It was the first time she had ever seen him so completely unable to hide his excitement and happiness—she couldn’t help cupping her face, smiling like an indulgent aunt.

Then she saw what he wrote:

—— “It’s been eight days since we last met. You must have gone on a trip, I suppose. I guessed as much, so I waited patiently for your return, without any anxiety.”

Su Xi: …………

???

You guessed it?

You waited patiently?

You weren’t anxious at all?

Zai Zai, hand on your heart—say that again. Who was that little crybaby sitting at the door just now?

After finishing the note, the little crybaby himself seemed quite satisfied with his own explanation. He folded the paper neatly and, as usual, slipped it into the small wooden box hidden in the desk leg.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he turned around and hurriedly gathered up the messy pile of old notes scattered across the floor. Holding them in his arms, he burned them one by one under the candle flame, a faint trace of embarrassment on his face… Those notes—she probably hadn’t seen them yet…

Su Xi really hadn’t seen them.

She panicked a little—she’d been too busy preparing the gifts earlier and hadn’t had a chance to take a look at what her Zai Zai had written these past few days.

Too bad—not a single one was left. They were all gone in the fire.

She: “……”

When all the notes had been burned to ashes, Lu Huan finally let out a breath of relief. It seemed he still had something more to say, so he picked up the brush again and began to write—

——“However, if you must leave for a long time in the future, could you perhaps…”

Before finishing, he frowned slightly, felt the wording was inappropriate, crumpled the paper into a ball, and burned it as well.

Lu Huan stared at the now-blank paper, dazed.

He wanted to ask that person not to vanish suddenly, without a trace—but he was afraid that if he made any requests again, just like the last time when he’d asked to meet, it would only make that person impatient.

Either way, that could wait for another day.

Before he figured out who that person truly was—before he was certain he could make them stay forever—he needed to be careful with every word he wrote.

Now, there was only the last box left unopened.

Though reluctant, a faint smile still tugged at the corners of Lu Huan’s lips. He placed his hand on the box and, after a brief pause, finally lifted the lid.

The moment it opened, the fragrance of food rushed out, steam rising warmly into the air.

On a beautiful white porcelain plate, the fish meat was snowy white, the scallions bright green, and the osmanthus petals sprinkled across it like tiny drops of golden light.

Lu Huan’s expression froze for a moment.

It was… a dish?

In a flash, a thought struck him—

That day, after he’d written his wish for a hometown dish, he had immediately burned the note.

So how could that person possibly have known?

That person actually… Could it be…

Lu Huan went completely still.

Memories flickered rapidly through his mind—since that person’s first appearance, all the strange details:

Leaving and appearing without a trace every night, bringing things that defied reason, mastery of mechanisms and medicine—none of it could be explained.

And then there were the smaller things: the braised pork with preserved mustard greens that had appeared and vanished in an instant, the bucket of water by the stream that had mysteriously grown lighter one day, the strange inability to leave written words behind.

All these fragments overlapped in his mind. Staring at the steaming dish before him, Lu Huan’s breath gradually quickened.

He had never believed in ghosts or gods. To him, such things were mere superstition.

But that person… Could it be, could it really be——

Su Xi watched from outside the screen as her little Zai Zai sat frozen before the desk for a long time. Then, tilting up his bun-like face, a puzzled look spread across it.

Above his head, a white bubble popped up with a giant question mark—

Expressing the thought in his heart:

——“Are you… a ghost? Or a god?”

Su Xi’s eyelid twitched violently—she was so startled she nearly fell off the bed.

W-wait, wait—her Zai Zai was already dangerously close to discovering her true identity!

Shit! Her gaze fell onto that dish, and she suddenly realized the problem—of course! That day, her Zai Zai hadn’t left that note for her at all, and yet she had seen it anyway. Of course he’d start to suspect something!

Would he… be scared?

But—no. Though his expression carried a hint of confusion, there wasn’t even the slightest trace of fear. Instead—

Instead, there was a faint, shimmering joy between his eyes and brows.

He looked up at the boundless dark night, lips gently pressed together, the fingers hanging at his side slowly curling inwards. In his eyes, that faint glimmer looked like the light of realization—of knowing that the one unseen by others, untouchable by all, was someone only he could see, could reach, could possess…