After clearing things up, it was obvious that Zai Zai no longer held any hostility toward Yun Xiupang, nor did he resist Yun Xiupang following him after school anymore. When the two walked home together, he would even kindly explain to Yun Xiupang the key points that the scholars had taught during class.
Yun Xiupang was naturally overjoyed. The chubby cartoonish face of his bloomed like a flower, his two small eyes narrowing into happy slits.
Outside the screen, Su Xi watched as Zai Zai, who had always been solitary, finally had a round little friend who carried a strong sense of presence by his side. She couldn’t help feeling gratified — about time, really!
Lu Huan had been serving in the Ministry of War’s Second Division for over a month now, and in that time, he had already resolved more than two long-standing troublesome issues within the department.
The overall atmosphere within the Second Division had clearly improved.
Before, the division had been like a heap of loose sand — disorganized and uncoordinated. Although the various officials, A and B, each had their own strengths, none were applied where they were most needed. Instead, they spent their days tangled up in trivial public-security squabbles, turning the entire place into a pot of chaos.
But now, everything was orderly, each person fulfilling their duties. Both efficiency and discipline had risen noticeably.
The langzhong [a mid-level official in the imperial bureaucracy] of the Second Division took note of this and reported it to the Minister of War.
— Of course, the langzhong had his own considerations in mind. That the young Lu Huan was capable was an undeniable fact; everyone in the division could see it, and it was impossible to erase his contributions.
Besides, the Second Division’s problems had accumulated for years without being solved, and yet, as soon as this new yuanwailang [a lower-ranking official under a langzhong] took office, every issue was swiftly settled. The higher-ups weren’t fools, they would surely know what that meant.
Rather than waiting for the minister to ask, it was better to take the initiative and report Lu Huan’s achievements himself.
In doing so, he could also earn the reputation of someone who “recognizes and makes good use of capable subordinates.”
The Minister of War oversaw four divisions in total, each with its own set of headaches. Every morning when he opened his eyes, his mind already ached from thinking about those problems. Yet, to the Emperor, such issues were mere trifles — they could hardly be brought up during court sessions. The Emperor would simply order the langzhong and yuanwailang of each division to handle them.
Twice a month, the four divisions would submit their reports and accounts, and their performance was laid bare at a glance.
Naturally, the Minister soon noticed that ever since the new yuanwailang took office, the Second Division had galloped far ahead — leaving the other three divisions in the dust.
His brow furrowed deeply.
After pondering for a moment, he specifically ordered someone to fetch the records of this young man.
The Minister of War was the very same official whom Su Xi and Lu Huan had overheard at the imperial banquet that night — the one who had spoken with General Zhenyuan about “finding a worthy successor.”
Among the court officials, each had their own temperament. General Zhenyuan, a lifelong soldier hardened by years of battle, was rigid and obstinate — once he formed an impression of someone, it was difficult to change.
The Minister of War, on the other hand, was a civil official within the military. Years ago, he had been promoted thanks to General Zhenyuan’s favor and had since served as the general’s strategist — a kind of military adviser left behind in court. His temperament was comparatively mild, his vision far-reaching and thorough.
In all his years overseeing the four divisions, he had never seen anyone who could, in just one month, not only resolve multiple issues within the Ministry of War but also win over the hearts of his subordinates.
This showed that the newly appointed yuanwailang truly possessed exceptional ability — not only in handling affairs, but also in commanding people.
A person who can only work but cannot lead is destined to remain a mere soldier.
A person who can only manipulate hearts but cannot strategize will end up a flatterer or a schemer.
Only one who possesses both can rise to the rank of a true commander.
What was even more remarkable, this young man was merely fifteen years old. To display such foresight and aptitude at such a young age… he was surely no ordinary person.
One day, he would not remain confined to this small pond.
After the subordinates delivered the file the Minister of War had requested, he discovered — to his surprise — that this youth was none other than the very same boy who had stood unflinchingly before General Zhenyuan’s sharp questioning at the imperial banquet.
At that time, when the boy had won first place in the Qiuyan Mountain Hunt, the Minister had already found him impressive. Now, it only confirmed his initial impression all the more!
The Minister of War was greatly pleased; a few thoughts flashed through his mind.
Still, the matter of who would inherit the mantle would ultimately be decided by General Zhenyuan himself.
However, he could certainly create some opportunities for this youth. As for how fortune would unfold afterward — that would depend on the boy’s own ability. If he truly was a jiaolong [a flood dragon], destined for greater skies, then perhaps he could even, through his own strength, reverse General Zhenyuan’s deeply rooted, unfavorable view of Prince Ning’s household.
Thinking this, the Minister of War instructed his servant to deliver a letter to the General’s residence, inviting General Zhenyuan to inspect the military camp with him the following day. At the same time, he sent another letter to the langzhong of the Second Division, telling him to bring the newly appointed yuanwailang, Lu Huan, along for the inspection.
After a moment of hesitation, the Minister also ordered his unmarried daughter to veil her face lightly and wait outside the city the next day.
He trusted his own eye for people. If this youth truly had the makings of someone who could soar to great heights in the future, then…
───♡───
The next day.
When Su Xi logged in, Lu Huan was already in the government office. The langzhong instructed him to change into riding attire and accompany him to the camp inspection.
The langzhong wasn’t particularly close to Lu Huan. In the past, whenever there were inspections, he had always brought his own son along. For him to suddenly bring Lu Huan this time, there had to be a reason.
Lu Huan faintly guessed what might be happening, but he showed no sign of it — he simply returned to his quarters to change.
Fortunately, Su Xi’s previous side quest hadn’t been unlocked yet. Perfect — now she could unlock the military camp chapter.
She actually felt a little excited. After all, she didn’t know what an ancient military camp looked like — surely there would be tents and bonfires.
She greeted Zai Zai, who had been glancing around impatiently, wondering why she hadn’t appeared yet. When she finally did, his expression brightened noticeably. Fastening his belt, he asked, “Are you coming with me to the camp?”
Would there be handsome, cartoonish soldiers in the camp? Maybe some young generals? Perhaps she could even switch to view the original illustrations! Su Xi thought for a moment, feeling a spark of anticipation. She reached out and tugged at Zai Zai’s collar somewhat clumsily — a small gesture of motherly affection.
Lu Huan had no idea what she was thinking; the corners of his lips were still curved upward.
The two boarded the carriage and traveled with the Second Division langzhong to the military encampment outside the city.
The carriage stopped just beyond the city gates. Two soldiers from the camp came to greet them, first assisting the langzhong down, then approaching Lu Huan’s carriage and bowing to the ground for him to step on.
Lu Huan lifted the curtain and looked down, but instead of stepping on the man’s back, he leapt down directly.
The youth wore a crimson riding uniform, his posture sharp and commanding. His expression was cold; his brows and eyes resembled distant, snow-covered mountains.
In another carriage parked outside the city, the Minister of War’s young daughter quietly lifted the curtain. The moment her gaze fell upon him, her cheeks flushed pink, her heart fluttering with girlish sentiment.
She had, of course, attended the Qiuyan Mountain Hunt that day as well. Back then, the young ladies of the capital’s noble families couldn’t help stealing glances at that striking youth. But his status was a little low — merely the illegitimate son of a declining princely house — so few dared to approach him.
Yet last night, for reasons unknown, her father had told her that this very youth might one day achieve great things, and that if she wished, she could befriend him.
Thinking of this, the young lady’s face turned bashfully pink, her expression shy and flustered.
Lu Huan followed behind the langzhong, intent on reaching the camp swiftly. Focused entirely on inspecting the two military tents ahead, he naturally failed to notice the veiled young maiden watching him from the carriage behind.
From her position outside the screen, Su Xi saw everything unfold — every glance, every expression — from a god’s-eye view.
Her heart gave a little jolt. Wait… someone has her eye on Zai Zai?!
The system quickly displayed the explanation across the interface.
It turned out that Zai Zai’s recent accomplishments in reforming the Ministry of War’s Second Division had reached the ears of the Minister himself. Impressed, the Minister had begun to entertain certain thoughts.
An investment, so to speak. And really — who could be more worth investing in than Zai Zai?
Su Xi couldn’t help approving. At least the Minister has good taste.
She immediately zoomed in on the screen to see what the Minister’s daughter looked like.
Switching to the original-art view, she was soon quite satisfied. The girl’s face was delicately pretty — “features like a painting” would not be an exaggeration — and she seemed about the same age as Zai Zai.
…In ancient times, didn’t they start talking marriage around fifteen or sixteen?
Zai Zai wasn’t all that young anymore. Perhaps it wasn’t too early to think about it.
Of course, that didn’t mean arranging anything right now — but if some affection could slowly grow between them, at least he would have someone by his side. Then his doting “mother” wouldn’t need to worry so much.
Besides, if that happened, he wouldn’t spend every day pining for her to appear again. He wouldn’t sink into gloom or lose his focus whenever she vanished for three days at a time.
Thinking this, Su Xi felt a bittersweet tug in her chest — the realization that children eventually grow up, spread their wings, and fly away; that sons, once “married off,” are like water thrown out of a basin (?). Still, she was happy for Zai Zai… and, well, a little giddy with motherly gossip.
Seeing her utterly oblivious steel-straight son walking forward with that same indifferent face, she couldn’t help tugging at his sleeve.
Lu Huan, thinking she needed something, lowered his head gently, falling half a step behind the Minister of War, and gave a quiet hum in response.
Su Xi tugged his sleeve backward, signaling for him to turn around.
Obediently, Lu Huan turned.
At once, he saw the Minister of War’s daughter in the distant carriage — the young lady lifting the curtain, cheeks blushing as she looked shyly toward him. The instant she met his gaze, she flustered and dropped the curtain at once.
At first, Lu Huan didn’t understand what the spirit beside him meant.
But feeling that faint, excited tug on his fingers, that tiny ripple of air trembling with enthusiasm, he couldn’t help the faint smile that flickered in his eyes.
Then, glancing again toward the carriage in the distance, then down at his own sleeve fluttering restlessly under an unseen touch — in that instant, he understood what the ghostly spirit meant.
And in the next heartbeat, his entire body went rigid.
All around, it was quiet. The soldiers looked on, puzzled as to why the yuanwailang had stopped, frozen like stone.
Lu Huan said nothing for a long time.
Over these many days, faint, suppressed feelings had been quietly growing in his heart — emotions so intense they frightened even him, so fierce they bordered on sickly.
Now, as realization dawned, it was as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured over him from head to toe. His entire body went cold.
Inside, something fell straight down — shattering into pieces as it hit the ground.
He suddenly understood something terrible: what he had been thinking, what he had been feeling, might all be nothing more than his own obsession.
Her care, her warmth, her tenderness — all were real.
But love? That she did not have.
Lu Huan bit down hard, his voice low and hoarse with unwillingness.
“You think that girl is nice,” he said, “and wanted me to look at her?”
His left hand was tugged — lightly, cheerfully.
“Could it be,” he said, his voice carrying a trace of stiffness so faint it was almost imperceptible, “that you mean to play matchmaker for me?”
Outside the screen, Su Xi could sense that Zai Zai seemed… a little unhappy. But what was there to be unhappy about?
When she’d encouraged Yun Xiupang and Zai Zai to become friends, she could understand his jealousy — after all, Yun Xiupang was another boy. But this was the Minister of War’s daughter! A girl as lovely as a flower! Surely Zai Zai didn’t think his mother, a ghost at that, was so depraved as to fancy both men and women?!
She decided not to tug on his sleeve again.
But for some reason, on the screen, Zai Zai’s face suddenly drained of color. He flicked his sleeve sharply and strode off.
Su Xi: “…”
This was the first time she had ever seen him angry.
Yet after only a few steps, he halted again.
The young man’s figure stood amid the desolate camp, as though burdened by sorrow — yet when he lifted his brows, he tried his utmost to conceal it.
Under his sleeve, his fingers clenched tightly, as though suppressing something fierce within him. Then, in a low, restrained voice, he said to the empty space beside him:
“I—I’m not angry. Just… follow along. Don’t get lost.”
