When Zai Zai was doing push-ups, Su Xi moved a book titled Hundred Strategies of War in front of him, opened it to the first page, and had him read as he exercised.
Many of the books she exchanged from the in-game shop were ones that existed in ancient times but not in the Yan Kingdom setting of the game. Zai Zai had never seen them before, so they were full of novelty to him.
He was earnest and eager to learn, soon engrossed in the detailed explanations of military tactics. With his sharp memory and quick comprehension, he read fast—after a few push-ups, he would flip to the next page.
Meanwhile, outside the screen, Su Xi was charging her phone on the desk. She also spread out her test papers and began to write, the tip of her pen moving across the page with a soft sha-sha-sha.
Her room was very quiet. Except for the time when Su Mother came in to bring her a glass of milk—startling Su Xi into hurriedly covering her phone with her test papers—no one came to disturb her.
Lu Huan’s thatched courtyard was also very quiet, only the faint sound of the cold wind sweeping past outside.
The two of them, separated by the screen, were doing the same thing—accompanying each other across the distance.
Su Xi took a sip of milk, then subconsciously lifted her head to glance at Zai Zai on the screen. Suddenly, she couldn’t help but smile. Her willpower wasn’t very strong; if she were studying alone, she might have grown bored and started scrolling through Weibo.
But Zai Zai’s ambitions were lofty, his will firm. When he did things, he was focused and fully absorbed. It was as if his quiet determination gave her strength. And having someone to “study” with made it feel a little less lonely.
Inside the screen, Zai Zai would occasionally lift his head and glance toward the empty air—as if to make sure she was still there.
Before he could even ask, Su Xi reached out and rubbed his little doodle-like head, signaling that she was still with him. Only then did his expression ease a little, the corners of his lips faintly curving as he lowered his head again to continue reading.
Lu Huan’s slender fingertips brushed the edge of the page as he turned it. Yet his mind, involuntarily, drifted to the spirit beside him. He raised his eyes and looked toward the dim yellow lantern swaying gently under the eaves. The light spilled down like a warm river, falling not only upon the book but also upon him.
All was silent.
A peaceful smile rose in his eyes.
She was still there.
This seemed to be the first time—amid the cold winds and thatched walls, reading by lamplight late into the night—that someone was by his side.
He didn’t know what she was doing in her own world. Perhaps she was leaning sleepily against her bed, perhaps lost in thought, or perhaps she too had opened a book—reading about the world of spirits. But her presence alone was enough comfort for him.
He had never imagined that one day there would be someone by his side—someone who could fill that hollow, desolate place in his heart with warmth and quiet peace, instead of cold wind and loneliness.
The air at that moment felt thick and softly warm, making one’s heart ache with a tender longing—wishing that time could stop right there.
───♡───
From that night on, every other evening, the two of them would begin their study sessions this way—accompanying each other from across worlds.
Su Xi worked on her test papers, while Zai Zai, seemingly understanding what the spirit wanted him to do, did push-ups, lifted water buckets, drew his bow toward the target, and practiced swordsmanship—all while reading the books she gave him.
His memory was extraordinary, his reading lightning-fast. Su Xi had to hurriedly exchange even more books from the shop for him.
After finishing the more essential ones, he began to explore other subjects—engineering and construction, farming and irrigation, official appointments and examinations, judicial systems—knowledge that spanned the Ministry of War and Ministry of Personnel. He read widely, gaining a basic understanding of everything.
Beyond that, there were also many miscellaneous books in the shop—ones that could never exist in the Yan Kingdom—travel notes, records of customs from other dynasties, and various regional tales.
Seeing that Zai Zai was reading far too quickly, Su Xi had no choice but to spend more money to buy those too. He read them all with keen interest and eventually even started reading illustrated books.
It seemed he was curious about the illustrated books from the world of spirits, wanting to understand the world Su Xi lived in.
Su Xi: ……
The Zai Zai, aside from wearing his cloak to the farm to inspect the greenhouses and crops, had in the past few days shut himself indoors—reading tirelessly, forgetting to eat or sleep, practicing sword forms, and striking wooden posts from dawn till dusk.
As a result, his progress was astonishingly fast.
Su Xi’s heart as a doting “mother” felt greatly comforted. What could be more satisfying than personally watching one’s own little Zai Zai study diligently and make steady progress?
Only, despite Zai Zai’s hard work, his skill and stamina points in the system still hadn’t increased.
System: “Push-ups, weight-lifting, sword practice, and post-striking—each must be completed ten thousand times to count as one point.”
Su Xi: ????
Ten thousand strikes? He’d turn into a pile driver at this rate. You’re just making things hard for my poor Zai Zai!
Still, since the points were that hard to raise, Su Xi didn’t worry too much. After all, she hadn’t made him train for the sake of points, but so he could avoid injury during future missions to the northern front.
And Zai Zai seemed to have his own plans as well. He didn’t know what Su Xi’s mission on her side was, but he understood better than anyone that only through tempering one’s body and mind could one achieve great things.
Just like that, ten days passed in the game.
Ten days later, the Spring Term of the Imperial Academy began.
The Imperial Academy had seven scholars in total. Aside from the Grand Tutor, the remaining six taught rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics.
It was considered the highest seat of learning in all of the Yan Kingdom. Yet no matter how learned or well-traveled these tutors were, their knowledge came only from Yan’s own history and neighboring lands.
However, many of the ancient books Su Xi had exchanged from the shop were ones even these scholars had never seen before.
When he had been around ten, Lu Huan’s greatest dream was to enter the Imperial Academy. But now, at fifteen—after having read widely—what the Academy offered seemed rather unremarkable.
On his first day of enrollment, the old madam sent many supplies to the Academy, while Su Xi redeemed a sturdy cloth bag from the shop to serve as his book satchel.
The “mother” was even more excited than the Zai Zai himself. That day, Su Xi hurried home early just so she could “see him off” to school, carefully preparing writing brushes, xuan paper, and inkstones, all neatly laid out on his desk with great generosity.
That morning, as the sun’s first light crept in, Lu Huan looked at the items on his desk, and his brows seemed to catch a ray of that warmth as well.
He might not even use them but he still packed each item into his cloth satchel one by one, not minding the weight in the slightest. After all, they carried her thoughtfulness.
When he had once been just a concubine-born son in Prince Ning’s manor—forced daily to haul water and perform hard labor, beaten or framed at the slightest misstep—he had also dreamed that one day he might, by his own strength, step out of that mire and through the doors of the Imperial Academy.
But back then, his heart was filled with bone-deep coldness and gloom. He had thought that even if he did escape Prince Ning’s manor, he would feel no joy—still solitary, still alone, with no one to rely on.
No one to warm his wine. No one to share his happiness.
He had never imagined that one day there would be someone by his side—
Someone who stayed with him through countless nights of reading and writing, listening together to the soft sound of rain. Someone who would accompany him as he left Prince Ning’s manor, stepped into the palace and the capital, and faced the storms and undercurrents ahead.
Someone who would rejoice for him as he fulfilled his childhood wish of entering the Imperial Academy—who would prepare his brushes and paper, his inkstone and satchel, ahead of time—someone who hoped for his success, and was even happier for him than he was himself.
In Lu Huan’s heart, it felt as if he finally had a place to return to.
He turned toward the empty air in the room, his eyes gentle, and said quietly, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
Outside the screen, Su Xi had just finished dinner and was waiting for Zai Zai to get up for school in his world.
She saw him sling the satchel over his shoulder, dressed in his bright crimson flying-phoenix robe of a ninth-rank companion scholar, his round little face and dark eyes irresistibly cute—and yet, instead of heading off to school, he was still standing there muttering to himself for no reason.
Su Xi reached out and gave him a little push, signaling: Hurry to class, you’ll be late.
Lu Huan was caught off guard by her sudden appearance, since lately she had only appeared at night. To see her appear this early in the morning made him quietly overjoyed.
“Are you free today?” A dialogue bubble popped up over Zai Zai’s head.
Su Xi tugged lightly at his right hand.
Lu Huan immediately understood—she wasn’t free that morning, but she must’ve come especially so she wouldn’t miss his first day of school.
His heart softened. The dark pupils of his eyes gleamed as he looked toward the empty air.
The first two days at the Imperial Academy, thanks to clear weather, were devoted to archery practice. By the lakeside at Yanshui Lake, the princes and noble sons stood in a line while the deputy instructor for mounted archery ordered them to shoot at the fish darting through the water and the birds flying in the sky.
Lu Huan had already drawn attention once before on Qiuyan Mountain; after entering the Academy, as the Fifth Prince’s companion reader, he deliberately kept a low profile—ensuring his number of hits was fewer than the princes’.
Even so, his performance far surpassed that of the other noble sons.
The Fifth Prince, competitive by nature, was greatly pleased, finding Lu Huan far stronger than his previous companion reader, that frail, pedantic boy who could barely lift a brush. Pleased, he casually rewarded Lu Huan with a few items.
Lu Huan accepted them without much concern.
After dismissal, while the princes and noble sons clustered together on their way out, he bent down to pick up the scattered arrows on the ground. Then he stepped forward two paces and, with an easy flick of his wrist, sent one arrow flying straight into the wicker basket in the pavilion at the center of the lake—clean and precise.
The Crown Prince had long since aged out of the Academy and now studied privately under a Grand Preceptor, so the Academy held only the other princes and a number of legitimate heirs from princely and marquis households.
Those heirs and companion readers all sought favor with the princes, while beneath the surface, currents of rivalry swirled.
Power in the capital was a web of factions. Though these students were still boys, their minds already held schemes of their own.
In the past, the two brothers from Prince Ning’s Manor—Lu Yuan and Lu Wenxiu—had also qualified to enter the Academy, but they had always been relegated to the back rows as auditors. They could not become companion readers, could not compete with the other noble sons, and thus never had any chance to befriend the princes.
Now, one brother was lame, the other bedridden with illness, both confined to Prince Ning’s Manor, gnashing their teeth in hatred of Lu Huan.
Originally, Lu Wenxiu had hated going to the Academy and feigned sickness whenever he could, but after hearing that Lu Huan had been admitted, he was so furious he pounded the bed in rage.
Of course, those brothers were no longer anything Lu Huan needed to concern himself with.
As he packed up his satchel and walked toward the Academy gate, he suddenly heard muffled blows coming from the direction of the bell tower.
He turned sharply toward the sound.
Outside the screen, Su Xi, working on her assignments, also lifted her head when she heard it.
On the screen, several noble sons were leading a few attendants, beating a boy of about fifteen or sixteen.
That boy appeared fair and plump—his clothes almost straining at the seams—yet his posture was cowardly. His hair was a mess, his nose bruised, face swollen, crying as he begged for mercy, surrounded by several thinner boys who punched and kicked him.
What’s this? Bullying at the Imperial Academy?
Su Xi’s game interface quickly popped up a character introduction—
[Yun Xiupang: Youngest son of the Grand Commandant. Function: None. Intelligence: None. Martial Ability: None. Background Influence: None.]
[In the Yan Kingdom, the Grand Commandant (Taiwei) was a civil official overseeing the Bureau of Military Affairs, a first-rank position. However, three months ago, Commandant Yun was found guilty of dereliction of duty and serious misconduct. The Emperor demoted him to serve as Prefect of Liuzhou, leaving the position temporarily vacant. His family remained in the capital, and his two sons became like dogs fallen into the water—bullied by all.]
[Yun Xiupang: Youngest son of the Grand Commandant. Potential development: Can become the protagonist’s friend. If rescued, this will trigger an optional side quest. Would you like to accept this quest?]
Wait a minute—this chubby kid has nothing! No martial ability, no intellect, no influence, no power at all! Saving him would only offend that group of noble sons—what’s the point?! Asking for trouble?!
But then, the fact that the chubby boy suddenly had a name instead of just “Boy A” made Su Xi wonder—could he be an important character later?
Maybe… it wouldn’t hurt to help him secretly?
Thinking that, she nudged Zai Zai’s hand.
Lu Huan, knowing the spirit beside him must’ve seen the same thing, lowered his voice and asked, “You want me to save him?”
Su Xi tapped his left hand.
Lu Huan didn’t refuse. He strode quickly to the gate of the Imperial Academy, picked up a few stones from the ground, and flicked them backward in one smooth motion.
A moment later, two of the noble sons’ attendants inside the bell tower yelped in pain, clutching their heads and swearing as they stumbled out.
By the time they looked around, Lu Huan was already gone.
After rescuing the boy, Lu Huan walked toward the market street.
He had indeed felt sorry for the boy, even before the spirit spoke—he’d already been thinking of helping him. Yet because she had spoken first, a faint, unexplainable heaviness stirred in his chest…
He realized how selfish that was—she had helped him, so of course she could help others too. She was kind; it was in her nature.
But the possessiveness that had begun to take root in his heart made him unreasonably unwilling—he didn’t want her looking at others, didn’t want her to give her attention, even her sympathy, to anyone else.
He found those thoughts ugly, and feared she would despise them, so he dared not reveal the slightest trace.
Still, she had come out with him, hovering at his side—that alone eased that selfish ache in his heart.
He continued walking toward Prince Ning’s manor.
Because he returned late that day, the sky was already dark, and the restaurants along the market street were beginning to open.
Two noble sons from the Academy, arms around each other’s shoulders, were heading into a brothel. They spotted him and called out cheerfully, “Lu Huan! The Fifth Prince’s companion reader, isn’t it? Come join us!”
Lu Huan had grown somewhat acquainted with many of them at the Academy—though not close friends, he was now a familiar face among the capital’s young nobles.
He was about to decline when he suddenly felt the spirit beside him grip his sleeve excitedly!
Lu Huan: …
Outside the screen, Su Xi had already put down her pen, eyes gleaming as she stared at the brothel’s signboard that read “Blossoms in Spring.”
Oh my god—just from the name alone, she could imagine how many beauties were inside! If she could enter, spend a few minutes of game currency, and see the artwork—it’d be a visual feast!
But why was Zai Zai rooted to the spot, refusing to move?
She tugged his sleeve again—hard enough to almost pull the thread loose—but he still didn’t budge.
He was fifteen now; surely in ancient times that was old enough to enter a brothel, right? Even if he didn’t do anything, couldn’t he at least go in and have a look?
Su Xi couldn’t help but tug him again.
The Zai Zai lowered his head slightly, gazing at the hand tugging his sleeve. His expression was calm as he asked softly, “Do you want to go in and take a look?”
Su Xi furiously tugged at his left hand — Yes, hurry, take your mama in to broaden her horizons!
But Zai Zai only smiled. His voice was gentle, considerate, soft as falling snow. “It’s not proper for me to go in. If you wish to, then drift in by yourself. I’ll wait outside, come out after the time of one incense stick.”
The dialogue bubble popped up on the screen. Su Xi was just about to release his sleeve and switch the view to enter the building herself, to see what beauties awaited inside —
When suddenly, the entire screen erupted in a flood of white dialogue bubbles, flying across like a storm, covering everything.
——“You dare.”
——“You dare.”
——“YOU DARE!”
Su Xi: “……”
Those enormous words filled the entire screen, the tremor so strong her hand jerked. Her desire to enter the brothel instantly withered in fright.
