This weekend, Su Xi still had things to do. The plaster cast on her leg could almost be removed. Although she still needed to be careful while walking, she could already move around slowly without any problem.
Her parents weren’t home, so she had made plans with Gu Qin and Huo Jingchuan — first to remove her cast, then to go shopping for some reference books. She couldn’t play games for too long.
So after finishing the Lantern Festival stroll, she planned to log off.
Before logging off, she touched her little Zai Zai’s hand, scooped a bit of snow from under the eaves, and dabbed it on his nose to tease him.
Lu Huan felt a chill of snow and ice on his nose. He raised his hand to wipe it away and smiled faintly. “Don’t make trouble.”
But at that moment, he suddenly realized something. Though there was still a trace of a smile on his lips, his eyes were instantly tinged with a faint panic.
His lashes trembled uneasily. Looking up toward the empty air, he asked softly, “…You have to leave, don’t you?”
Su Xi tapped his left hand.
He froze for a moment, the look on his face like a building emptied of its noise and people — carrying a hint of desolation. Yet he did his best not to show his disappointment, still smiling as he said, “Then, see you tomorrow. Be careful in all that you do.”
Su Xi calculated the time. By the time she returned from shopping, it should be evening in the game — just in time for the palace night banquet storyline.
That meant she could still spend more time with her little Zai Zai at night. So she touched his left hand again, then raised her hand to open the system and log out of the game.
When logging out of this game, it didn’t close directly; the screen slowly faded back to the main menu.
Previously, the little Zai Zai hadn’t known of Su Xi’s existence, so every time she logged in or out, he never noticed.
But this time, when Su Xi logged out, she hesitated for a moment.
On the dimming screen, the small figure of the little Zai Zai still stood before the window.
Because he didn’t know from where she had left, he didn’t know where to look to see her off. His gaze just stayed fixed on the empty air.
It seemed he wasn’t sure if she had gone. Even after her last touch to his left hand, he still stood there foolishly, motionless.
A dialogue box popped up on the screen — he asked again: “Have you already left?”
Without an answer, another white speech bubble slowly floated above his head — “Then… when will we meet tomorrow?”
Still, there was no reply.
He was left there, staring into the void.
White bubble —“So, she’s already gone.”
He lowered his eyes.
Before the screen completely faded out, the little Zai Zai was still waiting there.
When no further response came, and he was sure she had already left, he slowly turned around from the window to look down at the lively street below.
Only now, standing with his hands behind his back, his back facing Su Xi, his expression could no longer be seen.
Su Xi: …
Why… why did simply logging out of a game feel like a parting of life and death?!
The way the little Zai Zai acted made Su Xi feel an urge to log back in right away!
But Gu Qin called to hurry her out, shifting her attention instantly.
Afraid of being late, she hopped off the bed on one leg and quickly changed clothes.
───♡───
Meanwhile, Lu Huan stayed in the clothing shop a bit longer.
After gazing for a while at the bright lights of the marketplace, he finally descended the stairs, holding in his arms the robe she had chosen for him, along with a wrapped bundle of rouge.
Amid the bustling lights, he walked through the crowd and common folk, returning alone to Prince Ning’s residence.
He certainly knew that the ghost goddess had her own matters to attend to and could not stay by his side forever…
Yet perhaps because she was something he could neither see nor touch, there was not even a shred of security in his heart.
It was as if he were facing a mass of nothingness — forced to wait passively, never knowing when she would appear, or when she would quietly leave again.
If one day, some unexpected accident were to happen—just like last time—if she were to disappear for a full eight days, or even longer, never to return again…then what could he do…?
Lu Huan thought about these things, though none of it showed on his face. As usual, he returned to the firewood courtyard through the side gate.
Previously, the old madam had offered him a newly renovated resting courtyard in the west, telling him to move there. That courtyard had a small bridge with running water, artificial hills, and clear springs—no less splendid than the residences of Lu Yuan and Lu Wenxiu, the two brothers.
But Lu Huan refused.
After all, Prince Ning’s residence was not a place for him to stay long. He had never planned to spend his life here.
Besides, there were too many memories of her in this firewood courtyard.
He lifted his eyes, gazing at the lantern swaying under the eaves, and a faint warmth rose in his eyes.
───♡───
Su Xi had changed into a pink hoodie. Arm in arm with Gu Qin, she walked slowly along the pedestrian street. Behind them, Huo Jingchuan followed lazily, carrying their stack of books. It was already noon, and the three planned to find a place in the mall to eat.
“By the way, don’t you feel like your luck’s gotten better lately?” Gu Qin glanced at her leg, now free of the cast. “Ever since you won the lottery.”
Before, Su Xi could only be described as extremely unlucky—the type to choke on water or trip over air. When walking on the street with her, Gu Qin and Huo Jingchuan never dared let her walk on the side near the traffic, afraid some runaway car would suddenly jump the curb and hit her.
But ever since she came out of the hospital, those streaks of bad luck had almost vanished.
“…It really has gotten better.” Su Xi could feel it most clearly herself, especially during the recent major exam.
Not a single mishap occurred—no pen breaking mid-answer, nothing. It was as if Heaven finally took pity on her and let her finish peacefully.
Gu Qin teased, “You wear red underwear every year for luck, and it’s never worked. Why the sudden turnaround now?”
Of course, Su Xi couldn’t say it was because of a certain game. Her friends wouldn’t believe her anyway, they’d probably think she’d lost her mind. After all, that game didn’t even exist on their phones.
The three of them sat down at a Sichuan restaurant.
Gu Qin and Huo Jingchuan decided to “bleed” Su Xi a little and ordered extra dishes.
They chatted about school while eating. When most of the food had arrived, a waiter came over carrying a steaming bowl of fish soup fresh from the kitchen.
“Miss, could you move the dishes a little? I’ll put the soup here—”
But before she could finish speaking, the waiter suddenly slipped.
The steaming-hot fish soup tilted, about to spill straight onto Su Xi’s shoulder.
Gu Qin froze in shock and screamed, “Watch out!”
Huo Jingchuan immediately jumped to his feet.
Su Xi’s pupils constricted, her heart leaping to her throat as she frantically dodged to the side.
The waiter, terrified, tried to steady the bowl.
But—
Clang! The pot of fish soup crashed to the floor.
Though the soup splashed everywhere, not a single drop landed on Su Xi.
Steam billowed upward, and the whole thing happened in a blink.
Even the other waiters hadn’t reacted in time.
When they finally did, Gu Qin rushed over to Su Xi’s side.
“Su Xi! Did it burn you?”
Huo Jingchuan, looking angry, turned to the waiter. “Jiejie, what were you doing?!”
Su Xi was still shaken, but she shook her head.
Just now, in that split second, the fish soup had truly looked as though it was about to crash onto her—but then it was as if some invisible force had suddenly swept it aside.
Misfortune had always followed Su Xi like a shadow, but this was the first time something unlucky had been averted right before it happened—was this the “koi luck” the system mentioned?
Did it neutralize her own bad luck?
Gu Qin let out a sigh of relief. “You’re really too unlucky sometimes, thank goodness nothing serious happened.”
The waitress who had been carrying the soup was so terrified she nearly cried, bowing and apologizing repeatedly. “I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry!”
The manager came over to mediate. “Are you all right, everyone?”
Seeing that Su Xi was unharmed, Huo Jingchuan said darkly, “Good thing my friend’s okay.”
Su Xi, seeing that the waitress was shaken and clearly hadn’t meant it, waved her hand.
“Just bring another pot. It’s fine, just be careful next time.”
…Besides, maybe this incident wasn’t really the waitress’s fault at all—maybe it was her own unlucky constitution acting up again.
She patted her chest, quietly exhaling.
If that whole pot had fallen onto her shoulder—even with the thick clothes she was wearing—she might not have been burned, but if a bit of the oily broth had splashed on her neck, she’d have ended up with blisters for sure.
Being bound to a system, encountering a game that felt almost indistinguishable from reality, winning the lottery—those things were already unbelievable enough.
At this point, Su Xi could take anything in stride.
After finishing the meal, she said goodbye to Gu Qin and Huo Jingchuan and went home.
The palace night banquet hadn’t started yet in the game, but Su Xi couldn’t resist checking in to see what her little Zai Zai was doing.
So she opened her reference book, began her homework, and launched the game at the same time.
Inside Prince Ning’s residence, the servants were bustling about—it was the day when the Old Madam and the Princess Consort of Ning were to attend the royal banquet at the palace.
Women, no matter the dynasty, were all the same: before attending a banquet, there had to be hours of bathing, changing, and dressing up.
As for her little Zai Zai, although the Old Madam had sent maids to help him change clothes, he drove them all out and did everything himself.
From outside the screen, Su Xi saw him with his serious little bun face, aloof and distant from women, and couldn’t help but laugh.
So many soft, gentle young ladies—so cute!
Was her Zai Zai still not grown up? The way he looked at those maids was no different from how he looked at a rock on the roadside?!
…Well, fine, focusing on his career for now wasn’t bad either.
Once the story progressed to where he regained his identity as the Ninth Prince, wouldn’t he be able to have as many beauties as he wanted?
By then, she’d help him compare carefully—pick the prettiest ones!
Not just beauties from Yan Kingdom, but exotic ones too!
Su Xi remembered watching Gu Qin play a game called Imperial Consort Selection Project.
She had almost gone crazy watching her friend play—Gu Qin didn’t even recruit the beautiful consort with the golden foil on her forehead!
How could anyone stand that?!
Now, the beauties in this game were bound to be even more plentiful, and when the time came, she’d probably be dazzled by the choices!
Just thinking about it made Su Xi a little excited, her blood boiling—she couldn’t wait for the plot to progress to that point.
For now, though, she would just accompany her Zai Zai as he grew up—establish a career first, get married later.
No need to think about brides yet.
Seeing that he was busy, Su Xi didn’t disturb him. She kept the game open beside her while doing her homework, occasionally glancing up at him.
The in-game time shifted to shen shi [around 3–5 p.m.]
Three sedan chairs arrived.
Two red ones with tasseled silk carried the Old Madam and the Princess Consort of Ning, while a third, thick and dark blue, stopped at her Zai Zai’s courtyard—it was meant to take him to the palace.
Su Xi had planned to lift the sedan curtain and tell her Zai Zai she was there, to accompany him to the palace—but suddenly, she remembered something—
