Ever since returning from the military camp, Su Xi felt that Zai Zai’s moods had been strangely volatile — so much so that she couldn’t quite make sense of them.

These past few days, whenever she logged in, Zai Zai’s eyes would still light up at the sight of her as always. But when she fussed over him like an old mother — tucking his quilt, tossing a robe over his shoulders while he read so he wouldn’t catch cold, sneaking a couple of eggs from the Ministry of War’s kitchen to toss on his desk to nourish him — he didn’t seem as happy as before. Instead, there was something complicated in his brows…

Though he still looked at her gently and thanked her politely, when he lowered his head, his lips would press together, as if something were lodged in his chest — hard to express, hard to say aloud.

When Su Xi saw him return from General Zhenyuan’s place, she noticed a tear near the hem of his official robe, likely caught on a branch — he hadn’t even realized it. If it were any other clothing, it wouldn’t have mattered; after all, Zai Zai was no longer the same as before — he had money now and could simply change into a new one. But this was his official robe.

So that night, while he was asleep, Su Xi exchanged points in the store for a “mending” skill and cheerfully sewed it up for him.

The next morning, Zai Zai discovered it.

When Su Xi logged in, she was feeling rather pleased with herself, waiting to see joy appear on his bun-like face. In the past, whenever she secretly showed him such warmth, his expression would soften as though a warm current had passed through his heart. But this time, she saw him standing there in a white inner robe, holding the mended official robe in his hands, his expression unreadable and his eyes dim.

Su Xi: …?

No one knew what Zai Zai was thinking — in any case, he didn’t look happy. On the contrary, there was a trace of lostness about him. He ran his fingers over the stitched spot on the robe, let out a self-mocking laugh, and his expression carried a faint bitterness.

After that, he stayed silent for a long time before finally putting the robe on and heading to the yamen that morning.

Su Xi hadn’t even greeted him yet to say she was online, and so she witnessed the entire series of subtle expressions on his face from start to finish: …???

She couldn’t understand what was wrong with her little in-game boy. If this had been before, he’d have been delighted — eyes sparkling at her every move. But now— had he grown tired of his old “motherly” companion already?!

Don’t tell her that before she even got tired of this game, her little Zai Zai had already grown weary of her company?!

Su Xi felt as if struck by thunder!

After closing the screen, her mind went blank. She kept replaying the past few days, wondering what she had done wrong — apart from meddling that one time and suggesting Zai Zai meet the Minister of War’s daughter, she hadn’t done anything terrible, right?

Then why had there been such an inexplicable awkwardness between them ever since they returned from the camp…

These past few days, whenever she reminded Zai Zai to put on more clothes, he would stiffen all over. At first, she thought it was just her imagination but after witnessing his lack of joy upon seeing the mended robe, she finally realized that this strange awkwardness wasn’t her imagination at all.

Su Xi couldn’t figure it out, and her mood sank lower.

She knew that maybe it was because every time she logged in, no matter what she did, Zai Zai would always look at her with those dark, luminous eyes, waiting for her. That kind of gaze had made her feel… needed, cared for. But lately, Zai Zai had seemed lost in thought, his emotions strange and brittle, his manner toward her stiff and distant and that made her feel entirely ill at ease.

Why was this happening? Su Xi couldn’t understand. Could it really be his rebellious phase? She remembered that when she was that age, she hadn’t wanted to talk to her parents either, preferring to hang out with Gu Qin and Huo Jingchuan instead. Could Zai Zai be the same, preferring to spend time with his friends now?

Outside her room, Mother Su was calling her down for dinner. Before logging off, Su Xi switched her interface to the Imperial Academy — and sure enough, there was Yun Xiupang following right behind Zai Zai.

These days, Zai Zai had always been tongue-tied and hesitant around her, yet when facing Yun Xiupang, he seemed perfectly at ease.

The two little dumplings sat on the steps outside Guangyetang, talking.

Speech bubbles kept popping up above Yun Xiupang’s head, while Zai Zai frowned slightly. Though quiet as ever, he didn’t interrupt — the two seemed to be conversing quite a lot.

Su Xi: …..

Watching the scene, Su Xi felt a pang in her chest — a sudden, desolate sense that her “child” had grown up and was no longer hers to keep.

Even though she’d always hoped Zai Zai would make more friends so he wouldn’t act so restless every time she disappeared for a few days, now that she was actually seeing him confide in someone else instead of her, her heart still tightened with an inexplicable ache.

At that thought, Su Xi suddenly realized: every day after school, she’d rush straight into her room to do homework and play games; at school, she only hung out with her best friends; and whenever her mom called, she’d say a few words and then hang up.

She must’ve really hurt her mom’s feelings, hadn’t she?

So, she turned off her phone, went into the kitchen with teary eyes, and said, “Mom, don’t go play mahjong this afternoon. Let’s go shopping together, okay?”

Mother Su looked completely baffled, carrying a dish toward the dining room. She impatiently waved her hand. “Go, go, go — hang out with your friends. You’re too old to cling to me. I’ve already made plans for mahjong this afternoon.”

Su Xi: …

In-game and out of game alike, she was being disliked.

Since it was the weekend anyway, she decided to go to the library with Gu Qin to study.

Meanwhile, at the Imperial Academy, Yun Xiupang was chattering away, eager to say more in hopes of catching Lu Huan’s attention.

But the boy beside him kept his brows furrowed, a shadowed melancholy between them. He seemed lost in thought, as if his mind were wandering far away — not even hearing a word Yun Xiupang said.

Once, Lu Huan had thought: if ghosts and spirits could stay by his side like this forever, it would already be enough.

Every time she appeared beside him — bringing him something, reminding him of something — he’d feel joy in the simplest form.

He had grown greedy for her warmth, greedy for her kindness and care.

But slowly, when Lu Huan became aware of the feelings surging within him — possessiveness, jealousy, protectiveness, even thoughts too improper to name — when he realized that his youthful heart would race uncontrollably for her… she still—

She still treated him only like family.

It was because she saw him as family that she was kind to him, that she cared for him, that she reminded him to dress warmly, that she quietly mended his robe.

But she would never look forward to their meetings with the same near-obsessive anticipation as he did; never understand the awful restlessness, the jealousy he felt toward the friends in her world; nor feel, as he did, that a single day apart felt like three autumns.

She even sincerely hoped that one day, he would meet another woman, settle down, and live a good life.

His world held only her —but her world held so many others.

And she didn’t seem to want his world to revolve around her alone. Instead, she wanted him to turn his gaze toward other people, to care less about her.

To love someone wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Therefore — she didn’t love him. She only felt a kind of familial affection.

Lu Huan’s heart grew heavy. It was as if his entire being were submerged in cold water — unwilling, yet powerless to change anything.

───♡───

Su Xi’s midterm exams had arrived.

This time, to avoid what had happened before, she made sure to tell Zai Zai in advance — finding a way for him to understand that she had something important to do and might not log in for several days.

Zai Zai didn’t say much. He merely told her to take care, yet there was a clear dimness in his expression.

After telling him she was leaving, Su Xi hadn’t completely turned off the screen yet when she saw him, fading slowly from view, sitting alone on the steps in the courtyard of his official residence — looking utterly weighed down by thoughts he couldn’t voice.

That little one sat on the steps like a kindergartener watching his mother leave — wide, dark eyes glistening, still not knowing which direction she had gone, and thus not knowing where to look. That faint sorrow in his gaze made Su Xi’s heart tighten painfully; she nearly lost control and wanted to rush back just to pinch Zai Zai’s cheeks again.

But— it was only an exam. Just three days in real time, which meant only eight days in the game. Eight days apart shouldn’t be such a big deal, right?

Besides, didn’t Zai Zai already have other friends now?

At the thought of Yun Xiupang, Su Xi sighed quietly. Zai Zai had finally made a friend; she ought to be happy for him. Yet knowing that these days he had things weighing on his mind that he wouldn’t share with her— somehow, that left her feeling strangely sour inside.

Shaking her head, Su Xi decided she needed to focus. Exams came first. For the next three days, she even handed her phone over to her mom so she could study with full concentration.

This time, the midterm was more difficult than the previous one. Normally, Su Xi wouldn’t have been too confident. But since she’d been studying alongside Zai Zai lately, she’d practiced more problems than before and during the exam, to her surprise, several question types turned out to be the very ones she’d done at night while doing homework. Delighted, she quickly worked through them one by one. As a result, she figured her grades this time shouldn’t be too bad.

After finishing the final subject, Su Xi walked out of the exam hall with her test folder, letting out a deep breath of relief.

Outside the hall was the most crowded time of all — some students were eager to go home, pushing their way through the crowd while muttering “Excuse me.”

Su Xi was walking down the stairs when she got jostled by the people behind her. Having fallen countless times since she was little, she immediately recognized that familiar sinking feeling of losing balance. Her eyes widened — a bad premonition flashing through her mind.

But this time, a student in front of her happened to block her fall, and though she twisted her foot, she managed to regain her balance on the steps.

She actually stayed upright?! Su Xi looked down in disbelief.

Given her usual unlucky streak, she should’ve sprained her ankle or fallen flat somewhere.

Maybe her luck was finally changing. Drawing in a breath, she hurried back to the classroom along with the flow of people in the corridor.

───♡───

These eight days, Lu Huan had been unusually busy as well.

Ever since the incident at the military camp, General Zhenyuan had shown clear intent to promote him — sending for him several times to visit the general’s residence, often with the Minister of War present. When discussing preparations for the upcoming northern expedition, they allowed him to sit in and occasionally asked for his opinion.

Besides that, the Ministry of War’s two departments were loaded with affairs, and with the spring term of the Imperial Academy nearing its end, there were also numerous academic matters left to complete.

Several times, the Old Madam had sent servants to invite him home for a gathering. But Lu Huan remained indifferent — he knew that this belated show of affection was merely a means for her to monitor and control him, to keep track of his movements in court. So each time, he found an excuse to refuse.