Lu Huan had been drenched countless times in his fifteen years, yet, absurdly enough, this was the first time rain had ever made him feel happy.
He could sense the spirit still beside him—yet she seemed disheartened, perhaps angry that he had been mistreated, her invisible hand no longer clasping his.
He spoke softly, “Don’t worry. I have my own way. I’ll tell you once we’re back.”
What “way” was there, really?
Outside the screen, Su Xi switched the view back into Guangyetang Hall.
That old man, Master Shangguan, was still standing on the platform, preaching pompously about the Way of Etiquette.
At once her chest filled with anger—no matter what plan Zai Zai might have, she was going to teach this old man a lesson first.
Master Shangguan was just about to begin the next section of his lecture when his brow twitched.
He heard a faint creak above his head.
Instinctively he looked up, and his pupils shrank sharply.
The roof tiles overhead, whether weakened by days of rain or by sheer bad luck, suddenly began to give way.
The beam above him could no longer bear their weight.
Crash!
Glazed tiles clattered down in a shower. Startled half to death, Master Shangguan cried out and stumbled aside, but tripped and failed to escape in time.
The tiles struck his head, leaving several painful lumps.
The moment the tiles fell, the heavy rain outside poured straight through the broken roof, washing the dust from the tiles off him and drenching him completely in an instant.
He nearly fainted on the spot.
Now the sleepy young heirs in the hall could no longer doze. They stared, wide-eyed, at the scene before them.
Someone shouted in a panic, “Quick, summon the imperial physician! Master Shangguan has fainted!”
Guangyetang was in chaos.
Outside, Lu Huan still stood beneath the eaves.
Even without going in, he knew perfectly well what had happened.
He tried hard to suppress the laugh tugging at his lips but the brightness in his eyes and brows gave him away.
He had long since grown used to these petty torments.
He didn’t feel humiliated; he already had other ways in mind to deal with future troubles.
But she—she seemed to feel every slight against him far more deeply than he ever did.
Whenever someone bullied him, she was the one who got angry first, who rushed to avenge him at once.
Thinking about it now, that time when two servants in the Ning Prince’s Residence swore the kitchen was haunted, and that time when Lu Wenxiu somehow shoved the old madam into the stream—it must have been her secretly punishing those people for him.
A gentle warmth welled up in Lu Huan’s chest.
He lowered his voice and asked softly, “Are you on my left side, or my right?”
Outside the screen, Su Xi finished dealing with that bullying old man and switched the view back to outside the hall.
Hearing Zai Zai ask that, she randomly tugged his left hand.
Then she saw Zai Zai switch the huge leaf umbrella from his right hand to his left and tilt it slightly that way—as though the two of them really were standing together beneath it.
She: “……”
Poor child, she thought. Your mother isn’t actually under that leaf.
Lu Huan turned slightly to the left, as if gazing at someone invisible beside him.
For some reason, feeling that they were too close, his ears slowly turned red.
Trying to compose himself, he quietly shifted half a step to the right, straightened his back, and did his best to appear more dignified—and a little more handsome—from the side.
Su Xi: “……”
In doing so, half his sleeve was caught in the rain, yet he didn’t mind.
Su Xi felt a twinge of distress.
In one of their earlier exchanges, she had accidentally misled Zai Zai into thinking she was a spirit haunting his side.
At the time, she hadn’t cared much—after all, she was always there with him, inside or outside the screen; wasn’t that nearly the same as a ghost?
But lately she had quietly discovered that Zai Zai had begun reading books like On Divination and Spirit Summoning, apparently trying to find a way for a soul to take form in the mortal world…
When Su Xi saw that, she was startled.
He was happy now because he still had hope—believing that someday, he might let her appear before him.
But if, one day, he learned that such a thing was impossible…
Wouldn’t all his longing shatter into pieces?
Su Xi felt uneasy.
Still, she forced herself not to think about that yet. There were more urgent matters to handle for now.
This Master Shangguan and the Ning Princess Consort were clearly working together, there was no way they’d let the matter rest. Meanwhile, Zai Zai’s mission to win the Zhenyuan General’s favor (Mission Seven) still had no progress, and a whole pile of other problems waited to be solved.
When Zai Zai returned from the Academy, Su Xi held up an oiled-paper umbrella and followed him back to the wood-storage courtyard. As soon as they stepped inside, she quickly spread paper, brush, ink, and inkstone across the desk. Tugging on Zai Zai’s sleeve, she asked what he had meant earlier at the Academy—what was that “plan” he mentioned? Hurry and tell her.
Lu Huan wrote a few characters on the paper: “Shangguan,” “Liuzhou,” and “Yunzhou.” Then he said, “Do you know why Master Shangguan wasn’t teaching at the Academy some time ago?”
Su Xi didn’t. She was about to open the system interface to check, when Zai Zai continued,
“He used to serve in the Ministry of Works. Three months ago, His Majesty wanted to view the snow in Yunzhou, so he sent Master Shangguan there to oversee the construction of the imperial palace.”
“Yunzhou is a land of perpetual snow. Building an imperial palace there shouldn’t have taken three months. When he returned to the capital, he sent some Yunzhou specialties to the Ning Prince’s Residence as gifts for the Princess Consort.”
Su Xi blinked, confused as to what that had to do with anything, but she kept listening to Zai Zai’s calm analysis on the screen.
His dialogue box popped up again:
“Overseeing construction of an imperial palace is a major undertaking. The court would surely reward him for it, perhaps even promote him. If he wanted to flaunt his success, sending costly jewels and ornaments would suit the Ning Princess Consort’s family’s vanity perfectly. But instead, he only sent a single box of Yunzhou mushrooms.”
Su Xi immediately understood—something abnormal was going on.
Zai Zai drew his conclusion:
“There’s only one explanation. During the construction of the palace, he must have embezzled funds. He’s keeping a low profile to avoid scrutiny. I don’t yet know how much he took, but the Shangguan family is definitely unclean.”
Still, Su Xi thought, even if that were true, how could they use it to ruin the Shangguan family in court?
Almost as if reading her thoughts, Zai Zai went on, “I can’t expose it myself. If I told the Fifth Prince, his greedy nature for merit would make him report it immediately to the Emperor—and that would reveal my involvement. If I told the Second Prince, with his cautious, roundabout ways, he’d delay for months. In either case, word would spread that I was the first to suspect the Shangguan household. We need someone desperate to make a comeback—someone fast, ruthless, and precise.”
Su Xi marveled that after only a few days around the princes, Zai Zai already understood their personalities so thoroughly.
And indeed, this matter couldn’t be tied to him at all—it had to appear as someone else’s discovery.
Zai Zai pointed at the word “Liuzhou” on the paper and smiled slightly.
“Liuzhou is near Yunzhou. The Grand Preceptor recently demoted there to serve as governor is now stationed in Liuzhou. If he began to suspect something, he’d investigate immediately. The journey to Yunzhou and back takes only two days. Within three, the truth would come to light.”
“But the Grand Preceptor wouldn’t go to Yunzhou without reason. Writing to him directly would make him wary; he wouldn’t believe it. So we must find another way to lure him there.”
“His son, Yun Xiupang, however, is a fool. A single letter could trick him into traveling to Yunzhou. Once the Grand Preceptor learns his son has gone there, he’ll definitely follow to fetch him.”
“When that happens, if the palace construction site just ‘happens’ to collapse a little, he’ll uncover the corruption himself.”
“After he discovers it, eager for merit and the restoration of his rank, he’ll race back to the capital to report it. If all goes smoothly, the Grand Preceptor will be reinstated, and Master Shangguan will be demoted.”
“And when the Grand Preceptor is reinstated, he may wonder later why his son was summoned to Yunzhou by a letter bearing his own name—but by then, he’ll have already benefited from it. Even if he realizes we were behind it, he won’t act against us.”
Su Xi’s eyes sparkled as she listened, realizing that Zai Zai’s choice of the Grand Preceptor was surely more than just killing two birds with one stone.
Sure enough, he added with a calm smile, “Furthermore, the Grand Preceptor is a first-rank official of the Shumi Wuyuan, the Privy Council’s Military Bureau, which oversees appointments in the Ministry of War. He can easily find an excuse to place me in the vacant position of Clerk of the Ministry of War. When he regains his office, we’ll gain ours—wouldn’t that be perfect for both sides?”
With that, the problem that had been vexing Su Xi—how to help Zai Zai complete Mission Seven and approach the Zhenyuan General—finally had a clear first step.
She practically wanted to applaud him.
Zai Zai’s plan and strategy were far more flawless than she had imagined.
Su Xi could barely contain the rush of excitement that came with doing something big—a proper open-handed scheme unfolding before her eyes.
Before, when she’d obtained the manor and farmland, it was merely the satisfaction of a hamster hoarding supplies.
But now—this was the thrill of gameplay itself.
If everything went smoothly, Zai Zai’s “Allies and Connections” list might soon include the Grand Preceptor Yun himself.
And in the future, when Zai Zai reclaimed his identity as a prince, Grand Preceptor Yun would no doubt stand firmly behind him.
Her heart pounded like a drum.
After discussing the plan with Zai Zai—well, mostly it was him analyzing and her listening while jotting down notes here and there—
They split up to take action.
She had already unlocked the Palace Interface, and managed to obtain a sample of Grand Preceptor Yun’s handwriting from his past memorials to the throne.
The Zai Zai, imitating Grand Preceptor Yun’s calligraphy, penned a letter to Yun Xiupang, claiming that his father wished to meet him urgently and instructing him to go to Yunzhou at once.
Then, while Yun Xiupang was attending lessons at the Imperial Academy, Su Xi slipped the letter into his book pouch.
Now she understood why that earlier side quest—“Save Yun Xiupang”—had appeared.
Apparently, if Zai Zai had taken part in that event, he would have gained inside information about Grand Preceptor Yun.
But that would have also drawn resentment from those two young heirs.
Still, Zai Zai was too clever. Even without directly obtaining intelligence from Yun Xiupang, he had deduced exactly the path the game wanted him to take.
During these past nights, Zai Zai had been studying and training tirelessly.
His stamina and military strategy attributes had each gained one point, bringing Su Xi’s accumulated points to forty—just enough to unlock the Yunzhou region.
Although Zai Zai had already instructed Laborer Wu to secretly hire men to “create a small mishap” at the newly completed imperial palace two days later—when Grand Preceptor Yun arrived—
Su Xi still felt uneasy.
She switched the screen to Yunzhou and personally gave things a little push.
And then…
Su Xi rubbed her hands together, excitement bubbling—now all that was left was to wait for the results.
───♡───
Five days later.
Su Xi was on her way home from school, and Lu Huan was sitting for an exam at the Imperial Academy, when a major event shook the entire court.
It was reported—
The former Grand Preceptor Yun had raced back from Liuzhou to the capital and, after a private audience with the Emperor, formally accused Master Shangguan of corruption and embezzlement during the Yunzhou palace project.
An imperial investigation confirmed the charge.
The Emperor was enraged.
In a single day, Grand Preceptor Yun’s merits earned him reinstatement to office, while Master Shangguan was imprisoned.
His two sons were implicated and exiled to distant provinces.
As for his daughter, the Ning Princess Consort—since she had married long ago—the Emperor, in his mercy, spared her from punishment for the time being.
When the news reached the Academy, the students in the midst of their exams were stunned, whispering in disbelief.
Outside, rain poured down in sheets, but Lu Huan’s expression did not change.
He calmly continued answering his test paper.
Meanwhile, on the bus after school, Su Xi was so delighted she nearly jumped up in her seat—mission accomplished!
Her sense of participation was sky-high. She instantly opened the game screen and tugged at Zai Zai’s collar in excitement.
Lu Huan, still writing, suddenly felt his collar pulled.
A helpless smile tugged at his lips.
Setting down his brush, his dark eyes gleamed as he lifted his head, gazing toward the rain-streaked window—toward the invisible presence at his side.
Everything had unfolded according to plan, which pleased him greatly.
But what pleased him even more… was her happiness.
The road ahead was long, lonely, and endless—he had never thought he would have a guiding light beside him.
