Meanwhile, the farms outside the city had steadily expanded to five in total. Each estate now had forty workers, along with ten or so greenhouses and insulated sheds. Master Ding and the laborer Wu managed everything in good order, while Guard Bing — after resigning from Prince Ning’s residence when they dismissed some staff after the New Year — became a full-time guard for the estates.

The farms were running smoothly; as spring came to an end, their produce was gradually flowing into the markets.

Previously, Lu Huan had once asked the ghostly deity during their conversations why it had helped him expand the farms. The spirit’s reply had been simple, it wanted the total output to reach a certain number.

Two thousand kilograms.

The deity had even bent his two fingers to show him the number.

Though Lu Huan didn’t know why this yield mattered to the spirit, it happened to align with his own goals. If the farms could produce more crops, whether sent to supply the northern frontlines or sold cheaply to the poor in the markets, it would help feed the people — a meaningful thing indeed.

So, during the days when the spirit didn’t appear, Lu Huan felt lonely and often went to inspect the farms himself.

He waited patiently until the evening of the eighth day. Originally, he had planned to stay in his quarters, waiting quietly for her arrival.

But that night was the Bathing of Orchids Festival, and the streets were bright with lanterns and bursting with festivities. Naturally, with so much excitement, fights among commoners broke out here and there. The temporary yamen received reports of disturbances and summoned him over.

Thinking he’d handle it quickly and hurry back, Lu Huan left a note on the desk in his quarters — explaining where he had gone and followed the guards from the yamen out into the night.

Su Xi finished her exams and, filled with excitement, rushed home. The very first thing she did, of course, was grab her phone and log in.

This time, before she could even check what note Zai Zai had left her, a new main quest popped up on the screen.

【Please accept Main Quest 9 (Intermediate): Locate a nun sweeping in the backyard of the Changchun Temple and learn the protagonist’s origin from her.】

【Difficulty: 8 stars. Reward: 300 gold coins, 12 points.】

The moment Su Xi saw the words “origin” on the screen, she jolted in excitement. It’s coming, it’s finally coming! The truth behind Zai Zai’s birth!

She opened the system menu in the upper right corner. The profile section for the Ninth Prince was still completely blank, but since her points had reached fifty-four — over halfway — the main quest was clearly beginning to touch upon his background. Once she completed Main Quest 9, that blank space should finally be filled in.

Su Xi’s heart fluttered with anticipation. Ever since she started playing, she had always been curious about how Zai Zai ended up in Prince Ning’s residence. There had to be a complicated story behind it.

The task seemed simple enough, just finding someone. It shouldn’t be that hard.

She could hardly resist the urge to grab Zai Zai and rush to the Changchun Temple right away.

But then a thought struck her: what if Zai Zai’s background hid something dark and cruel — something he could never accept?

Would he even want to know the truth?

If she were just playing this as a game, she would have wanted to uncover it as soon as possible. But now, she no longer accompanied him with a gamer’s heart. A faint unease rose within her — what if knowing the truth made Zai Zai unhappy?

Su Xi pressed down the worry for now and decided not to dwell on it.

After reading the note Zai Zai had left on the desk, she switched the view to the yamen to look for him. But after circling the place, she saw only a few officials discussing matters in the main hall — no sign of Zai Zai. Thinking he must have already left, she shifted the view toward the city streets instead.

At this hour, the streets were lively and bustling. Lion dancers leapt about, surrounded by cheering townsfolk tossing copper coins.

Su Xi watched, holding her breath as the dancers balanced precariously on the tips of blades — thrilling and breathtaking — and ended up watching for quite a while.

After a bit, she noticed a crowd gathering at the far end of the street. Not sure what was happening, she suddenly remembered her purpose and began scanning through the throng of tiny avatars until she found her Zai Zai.

She spotted him immediately — threading his way out of that unusually dense crowd, brows furrowed, as if hurrying back.

The reason for the crowd’s excitement became clear: from a tall building, someone was throwing an embroidered ball.

It must be the daughter of some wealthy merchant of the capital, taking advantage of the Bathing of Orchids Festival and the bustling streets to seek her ideal husband.

Su Xi had never seen a throwing-of-the-embroidered-ball¹Throwing of the embroidered ball (抛绣球, pāo xiù qiú) is a traditional Chinese matchmaking custom, especially popular in ancient and folk tales from southern China. in Yan Country before, so she quickly tugged at Zai Zai’s sleeve and turned her gaze upward, eyes sparkling with curiosity, watching the veiled young lady on the high balcony about to make the throw.

For Lu Huan, the past eight days had felt as long as eight years. Now, the moment that familiar warmth returned, his breath caught — his heart flooded with relief and a quiet joy. The heavy weight pressing on his chest finally lifted. He was just about to turn to her, to ask if the matter she had gone to handle was done — when he realized that all of her attention was fixed on the veiled girl above.

And not only that — she was tugging at his sleeve, excitedly pulling him into the crowd.

Then, as if caught up in her enthusiasm, a playful gust of wind stirred — unable to resist, it leapt upward and teasingly lifted the white veil of the young lady on the balcony.

A murmur rippled through the crowd as several men below caught sight of the half-revealed face beneath the veil, their eyes lighting up.

Beside Lu Huan, the wind grew even more exuberant, as if it might start whistling at any moment.

Lu Huan: “…”

Su Xi didn’t notice the little bun-faced boy in the crowd, his expression so dark and gloomy that it could almost be wrung into water.

A moment ago, she couldn’t resist switching to original view to peek under the veiled girl’s face—and wow! The young lady throwing the embroidered ball was stunning, even prettier than the Minister of War’s daughter, truly flower-like and moon-bright! She couldn’t help wondering which unfortunate dog of a man would get lucky next.

Just then, the girl on the high balcony flung the embroidered ball outward.

Every man below—young and grown alike—went wild, scrambling madly to catch it. After all, whatever her looks, she was the daughter of the wealthy merchant Wan Sanchian! Whoever married her would instantly become the richest son-in-law in all of Yan Country.

The ball arced through the air like a perfect parabola, heading straight toward Lu Huan.

Su Xi froze. She didn’t know if the throw was intentional or not, but Zai Zai truly stood out in that crowd—so bright that anyone on the balcony would instinctively aim for him.

Could this be the start of a side quest?

As that thought flashed through her mind, she saw Zai Zai’s face darken. Quick as lightning, he dodged aside. The embroidered ball shot past him and landed squarely on a limping man behind him.

Su Xi, still in spectator mode: …

On the screen, a new prompt appeared:【Side Quest 7: Catch the embroidered ball and use the chance to meet Wan Sanchian.】

It lagged for a second—then blinked out, replaced by:

【Side Quest 7 FAILED!!!】

Su Xi: …???!!!

Opening the status window in the top right, she checked again. Sure enough—the “harem” tab showed that the daughter of the richest merchant, who hadn’t even made her entrance yet, was already buried.

She: …

That little brat, completely unaware of what he’d just missed, shot a cold glance toward the spot where she’d been tugging his sleeve then strode off through the crowd, face dark as storm clouds.

Su Xi was baffled. Why was he in a mood again the very moment she logged in when she hadn’t even done anything? She followed, dragging the view to keep up with him.

The festive streets bustled on both sides, but Zai Zai, clearly fuming, was walking fast on his short legs.

Su Xi decided not to argue and reached out to tug his sleeve again. Only then did he stop, chest rising and falling sharply. He stood still, face unpleasant, forced down his temper, and asked, “That embroidered ball was about to fall right into my arms, and you were just going to stand there and watch?”

Su Xi thought: Zai Zai, your moods are getting more and more unpredictable… and what kind of question is that? I wasn’t going to stand there and watch, should I have sat down to watch instead?

“Eight days without seeing you, and you—” He bit down on his words, as if wanting to ask something but swallowing it back. “These eight days… have you been well?”

Su Xi tugged his left hand, meaning, I’m fine.

But she couldn’t help glancing back at where the embroidered ball had landed on that limping man, curious how things were unfolding. She slid the screen slightly to the side.

For some reason, even though the Zai Zai inside the screen couldn’t possibly know what she was doing outside it, it was as if he could sense her attention wandering toward that embroidered-ball scene—his face darkened even further.

Su Xi saw the commotion there: the rich merchant Wan Sanchian’s servants were rushing down from the building, snatching the embroidered ball back from the limping man. The crowd was in chaos, and the whole scene looked ridiculous. She couldn’t help laughing at the spectacle.

Then, abruptly, a stiff line popped up on the screen from Zai Zai:【I’m fine. Go on—watch. When you’re done, come find me.】

The words were chillingly familiar.

The last time Su Xi had wanted to enter a brothel, Zai Zai had said almost the exact same thing. Her eyelids twitched violently.

On the screen, Zai Zai clenched his fists. When she didn’t respond for a long time, his expression seemed to flicker with both hurt and anger—then, without a word, he turned and started walking away.

Su Xi’s smile froze.

No way. Zai Zai had never dared to just leave her behind before—were his wings growing harder now?!

But just a few steps after he strode off coldly, a flurry of white dialogue bubbles popped up above his head in rapid succession:

—— She’s not really leaving, is she?

—— Did she follow me?

—— Should I turn back? But even if I do, I won’t see whether she’s there or not.

—— Eight whole days without seeing her… and the first thing she does is get excited over someone else’s veil!

The bubbles completely filled the screen, blocking Su Xi’s entire view of the embroidered-ball scene. He was definitely doing this on purpose!

Zai Zai’s heart was clearly in chaos, thought after thought tumbling over itself—until it all condensed into one pitiful line:

…Am I that annoying?

Su Xi: …

Her heart gave a sudden painful squeeze.

She watched as Zai Zai silently slowed his steps, inching forward, a drooping leaf hanging over his head, raindrops pattering down.

It suddenly hit her—she hadn’t realized it before, but while only three days had passed for her, it had been eight days for him. And the moment she came online, her attention had gone straight to someone else… No wonder he looked so upset.

Forget it—something like an embroidered-ball toss wasn’t that important anyway.

The crowd of dialogue bubbles filled the entire screen, domineering and selfish, refusing to let her see anything else—but they made Su Xi realize one thing clearly: even though Zai Zai had been acting strange ever since returning from the military camp, she was still the most important person in his heart.

Once she confirmed that, all her earlier gloominess vanished instantly—she even couldn’t help but smile.

She reached out and tugged lightly at Zai Zai’s hand, signaling—I didn’t leave.

Zai Zai’s lashes trembled, and the little raincloud leaf above his head turned into a shy, sunny icon.

Yet he still forced himself to look straight ahead, pretending not to care at all, and gave a soft, sulky “Hmph.”

Footnotes

• 1
  Throwing of the embroidered ball (抛绣球, pāo xiù qiú) is a traditional Chinese matchmaking custom, especially popular in ancient and folk tales from southern China.