—Well, it was really him alone, while she logged in from time to time.

Now it was finally time to leave. The fledgling would depart from its nest, become an eagle, and spread its wings toward the broader skies.

Though she was filled with pride and happiness for her Zai Zai, a faint, complicated feeling lingered in her heart.

Switching the interface to the doorway, she tapped on his head.

Her Zai Zai, who had been quiet and calm a moment ago, immediately lit up with joy at her arrival.

Every time she logged in, Zai Zai was like this — though he tried his best to suppress his joy, that sudden gleam in his eyes was impossible to hide.

It made Su Xi feel a faint pang of guilt.

But… Zai Zai, didn’t I just log in earlier when you received the imperial decree? It’s only been half a day in game time since then! Why do you look as if “a second apart feels like three autumns”?!

Zai Zai sat obediently on the threshold, hands resting on his knees. Tilting his head upward, he said softly, “I will depart for the Ministry of War tomorrow. There will be quarters for me there. Will you still come with me?”

Of course.

Su Xi poked at his left hand.

He lowered his gaze to look at it, pressing his lips together slightly.

He already knew she would follow him to the Ministry of War. Both the Ministry and the Ning Prince’s residence were in the capital, separated by only a few streets.

Still, perhaps because he cared too much, fear of change lingered in his heart. He wanted to hear her say it — a definite answer that could set his mind at ease.

After a moment, as if mustering all his courage, he bowed his head again and asked, “In the future… no matter where I go… will you always be by my side?”

Su Xi couldn’t help laughing at his expression — so much like a shy little bride. Well, not exactly, Zai Zai… if you’re going to the latrine, your mama can’t exactly go along, can she?

When Lu Huan didn’t receive a response, his whole body tensed. He looked up blankly toward the air.

—Was she unable to make that promise?

His heart sank straight down, and he opened his mouth as if to speak — but then his left hand was tapped again.

Lu Huan: “……”

Only then did his heart stop falling, settling safely back into place.

So long as she was always with him, it didn’t matter where in this vast world they were. He had spent three months in this thatched courtyard; perhaps they would stay half a year elsewhere. And one day, they would find a home of their own — a place filled with the jewels and rouge she loved so much.

Outside the screen, Su Xi had no idea what Zai Zai was thinking. She only saw that, for some strange reason, his eyes were glowing with bright anticipation, and his round cartoonish face had turned faintly pink.

Su Xi: “……”

This child’s gone silly. Isn’t the Ministry of War supposed to be a tough posting? What’s there to be so dreamy about?!

Then Su Xi suddenly remembered — the bamboo grove still had that wooden box buried there, the one filled with the treasures Zai Zai had given her. Since he was moving, those things had to be moved too. So she tugged at Zai Zai’s sleeve.

Lu Huan looked down in confusion at his sleeve being pulled toward the bamboo grove. Realizing there must be something there, he followed her obediently.

Su Xi grabbed a shovel from the kitchen and shoved it into his hand.

Before, she had used an in-game purchase command to dig holes — but since Zai Zai was here, this kind of manual work should naturally be left to him.

Lu Huan immediately understood. Could it be that she had hidden something here? Rolling up his sleeves, his slender arms were revealed as he took up the shovel and began digging.

Before long, the wooden box Su Xi had buried emerged from the soil.

Lu Huan opened it — and froze for a moment. Inside were all the little trinkets he had once given her: the small wooden carvings he’d whittled, the rouge case he’d later bought for her. He had never known where she’d kept them… so they’d been buried here all along.

There were also a few neatly folded little notes inside.

Moonlight spilled across the ground, glimmering softly over the wooden carvings — each one vivid and lifelike.

Lu Huan lifted his head and gazed into the empty air, as though tracing her silhouette with his eyes. His heart stirred faintly.

He had always believed that her appearance — her very existence — was the single ray of light piercing through the endless fog of his life, the greatest fortune and gift he had ever received. But to her, perhaps he was only someone she’d helped on a whim — someone she had chosen to redeem for a while.

He waited for her all the time. But she came when she wished, and left just as easily.

Lu Huan had always known this, yet he never dared show even a trace of longing or demand — afraid that if one day she said goodbye before leaving, she would never return again.

But now, seeing these things all so carefully preserved by her — a faint bitterness rose in his chest.

He had never imagined that he, too, was someone she cherished and valued. Someone she cared about and remembered.

Even if that affection might only occupy one-tenth of her world, to Lu Huan, that alone was already something he would have longed for with all his life.

To be truly cared for — that feeling quietly filled his heart, little by little. He looked up toward the air again, unsure where she might be, and lifted his hand slightly.

Su Xi, seeing Zai Zai fall into deep thought for a long while before raising his watery eyes toward the sky — though she didn’t know what he meant to do — found his round bun-like face with those bright, sparkling eyes so much like saying “I’m happy… I want a hug.”

Indeed, after all — her little one had just been promoted from kindergarten student to class monitor, then spent half the night digging up boxes. Surely he deserved a little encouragement.

So Su Xi tugged at his left sleeve.

Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she used another finger to nudge gently against his chest.

Finally, she gave the back of his neck a soft pat —

A very brief, sloppy, and half-hearted “motherly” hug — completed.

On screen, a bubble popped up over Zai Zai’s head: 「……?」

Lu Huan widened his eyes in disbelief—

Had he just felt… a breeze slip into his arms?

…Was that his imagination? Had he really just been hugged?

But since she was an invisible wind to him, he couldn’t tell if it was a fantasy or if it had truly happened.

He tried his best to act natural, bending down to lift the box — yet the rims of his ears reddened uncontrollably.

When he set the box down again, he still couldn’t stop thinking about it. The question mark above his head multiplied — now there were two: 「？？」

Su Xi, pulling at his sleeve to lead him back, noticed his faltering steps and flushed ears. She had no idea what was running through his mind, but the question marks above his head had now become four: 「？？？？」

And by the time he reached the doorway and entered the room, the question marks had completely filled the screen: 「？？？？？？？？？？？？」

Su Xi: “…………”

What the hell—are you seriously still thinking about it?!

That night, Su Xi helped Zai Zai pack up all his things as usual, then watched him diligently study and practice until late into the night. When he finally went to bed, she tossed him a pear blossom and told him she was leaving.

But in truth, she hadn’t left. It was only a little past seven on her side. She continued doing her own homework while leaving the screen on — quietly watching Zai Zai sleep.

───♡───

The next day, word of the event had spread throughout the Imperial Academy.

The students of the Imperial Academy had all heard the rumor, though none of them knew the truth behind it. And so, the story that spread was this: the illegitimate son of the Ning Prince’s residence had flattered the Grand Commandant’s youngest son, and through this connection, the Grand Commandant had entered the palace to secure him an official post.

The rank of Assistant Director of the Ministry of War might not be high, but for someone like Lu Huan—without background or status, and born a concubine’s son—to leap from ninth rank straight to fifth was enough to make every student’s eyes burn with envy.

Though Su Xi had known such gossip would inevitably appear, seeing the tiny cartoon avatars of the academy students crowding together on screen, whispering to one another, still made her angry. What are you all doing wasting time gossiping about my boy instead of studying?!

Lu Huan, however, was calm as ever. He spoke softly to her: “Let them talk. These rumors may work to my advantage.”

After all, he truly had no backers or powerful family. If he shone too brightly too soon, he would only draw hostility—‘the tall tree catches the wind.’ Letting others believe he had relied on a friend’s influence to get a post would make him seem harmless, even mediocre. Later, when he achieved real merit and established his position, those rumors would collapse on their own.

Su Xi read this text box and felt her anger ebb a little.

Since the Grand Commandant had told his son Yun Xiupang to befriend Zai Zai, the boy had taken the instruction very seriously. Every day after class, he clung to Lu Huan—following him the moment lessons ended, all the way from Guangyetang to the academy gates.

Zai Zai seemed a little impatient, his tone cold and distant, but the round little Yun Xiupang still trailed behind him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Su Xi could understand why Yun Xiupang followed him so closely. The boy had always been bullied at the academy. Even though the Grand Commandant had regained his position and the others were forced to restrain themselves, the teasing hadn’t stopped entirely. Lu Huan, though younger, carried an intimidating air; Yun Xiupang instinctively sought safety in his presence.

Su Xi remembered the unfinished side quest—to make Yun Xiupang Zai Zai’s friend—and decided to complete it.

On screen, she watched the two of them—one cold-faced, sharp-eyed; the other a chubby ball toddling along behind. It looked just like two kindergarteners, one trying hard to make friends with the other. The sight stirred a strange maternal warmth in her heart.

Her Zai Zai really ought to have a friend.

That way, even when she wasn’t around, he wouldn’t be too lonely.

Laborer Wu, the twenty-something servant, was loyal but crude; he and Lu Huan had nothing in common. Yun Xiupang, though rather slow-witted, was honest and good-natured—and as the Grand Commandant’s son, would one day become a high official himself. He was perfect as a friend for Zai Zai.

So, as they walked through the marketplace, Su Xi nudged Zai Zai’s hand toward a nearby vendor selling tanghulu¹Tanghulu: a traditional Chinese street snack of candied fruits on a bamboo skewer, typically hawthorn berries coated in glossy sugar syrup..

Lu Huan thought she wanted some. His expression softened, the sharp lines around his eyes melting. He pulled out a few copper coins and handed them to the vendor. “Two skewers.”

After buying them, he intended to keep both. She couldn’t eat, of course, but she seemed to like looking at bright, shiny things—she would probably be happy just seeing them.

But then, Su Xi suddenly grabbed his arm through the screen.

Zai Zai: “?”

Then she lifted his arm and waved it toward Yun Xiupang, who was following behind.

The chubby boy’s eyes went wide. Overcome with emotion, he wiped his tears and stammered, “Brother Huan—no, Lu Huan, this… this is for me?”

Over Lu Huan’s head appeared: 「……」

He could only watch as Yun Xiupang snatched the skewer he’d meant for her and immediately began eating it right there, sugar glistening in the sunlight. Lu Huan’s mood soured instantly; he glared at him, clutching the remaining skewer tightly, and turned on

his heel to leave.

Yun Xiupang, flustered, hurried to follow—half running, half eating, sticky syrup glinting at the corners of his mouth.

Seeing Lu Huan glance back at him, Yun Xiupang—eager to make a friend—scratched his head, trying his best to make him laugh. Then, in a sudden burst of determination, he shoved the entire skewer of tanghulu into his mouth at once.

At once, his cheeks puffed up like two round buns, his face bulging comically.

The little fatty was actually rather amusing. From outside the screen, Su Xi couldn’t help being charmed; she tugged lightly at Zai Zai’s sleeve, hinting for him to look a bit longer and stop being so dismissive.

But Zai Zai’s mood only seemed to worsen.

He stared at Yun Xiupang with a dark, unreadable expression, then turned away to continue walking. In his hand, the remaining skewer of tanghulu hung loosely. His emotions were heavy, his thoughts unreadable.

Suddenly, he took a bite—his face still expressionless—as the sugar shell cracked between his teeth, his cheek bulging slightly.

Then, turning his head a little, he glanced sideways—toward her.

Su Xi: “?”

Before she could figure out what he was doing, a speech bubble popped up above his head. It trembled slightly, the text almost impatient, pressing close to the top of his little avatar—

——I can, too.

Su Xi: “…………”

Footnotes

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  Tanghulu: a traditional Chinese street snack of candied fruits on a bamboo skewer, typically hawthorn berries coated in glossy sugar syrup.