Su Xi took a taxi to go eat. As soon as she entered the private room, the only empty seat left was the one beside Huo Jingchuan. Huo Mama beckoned to her kindly: “Xixi, come sit over here, you two children sit together.”
“The sun must’ve risen from the west today, you even dressed up a little?” Huo Jingchuan looked Su Xi up and down, utterly shocked. He hadn’t even finished speaking before his mom slapped him on the back, scolding: “How are you talking? Don’t you know to get up and pull out a chair for a girl? Do you have even a shred of gentlemanly manners?”
Huo Jingchuan jolted from his mom’s slap, and could only stand up with a grin to pull out the chair for Su Xi: “Please.”
Seeing the harmonious, lively atmosphere in the private room, Su Xi’s head hurt a little. She said, “Thank you, Auntie,” and went to sit down.
After that, she and Huo Jingchuan were like starving ghosts reincarnated, crazily picking dishes and burying their heads in their food, while the parents of both families chatted happily. From the little childhood stories of her and Huo Jingchuan playing house or wetting the bed, they talked all the way to the upcoming third year of high school, the independent enrollment exams, and which city they might attend university in.
The two families lived in the same residential compound, and the parents were each other’s best friends, looking after one another for over ten years. They had long since been as close as one family. When Su Xi’s parents didn’t have time to go home and cook, she would always go eat at Huo Jingchuan’s house. Likewise, when Huo Jingchuan was in kindergarten, his dad often forgot to pick him up, and it was always Su Father who brought both children home together.
So, a gathering like this happened every few months, and each time the topics the parents rambled about never changed. They chatted about everything under the sun, and in the end always circled back with a laugh to saying Su Xi and Huo Jingchuan might as well become childhood-sweethearts-turned-lovers and get married in the future.
Su Xi and Huo Jingchuan had heard these words so many times their ears were growing calluses, and they never took them seriously.
As the two of them shoveled rice into their mouths, they exchanged a helpless look.
Su Xi used her bowl to block her face, hunching over, lowering her head to whisper to Huo Jingchuan: “Let me make this clear first, I’ll choose whichever university I attend based on my own grades. If we unfortunately end up at the same school again, it’s definitely not me following you. Looking at you is the same as looking at Gu Qin, I have zero interest in you.”
Huo Jingchuan also used the large bottle of orange juice to block his face, lowering his voice: “You think I wasn’t forcibly dragged here by my parents? I’m the same. Looking at you is no different from looking at my right hand.”
Su Xi nearly went crazy: “Then at least argue back with your parents next time, tell them this! Stop kicking the ball to me!”
Huo Jingchuan looked at Su Xi in slight confusion: “They’ve been nagging about this for so many years, can’t you just treat it like wind by your ears? You never got this riled up before. Why are you especially bothered recently… wait! Su Xi, are you dating someone?! That school hunk from a few days ago—”
Before he finished, Su Xi cut him off, face red to the ears: “No, shut up.”
Seeing the two kids with their heads together whispering, the parents of both families laughed even more happily, especially Huo Mama, her eyes full of the kind of joyful “as expected of childhood sweethearts, my daughter-in-law is secured” expression as she looked at them.
The two of them lifted their heads and instantly felt immense pressure: “……”
They each scooted their chairs away, sitting as far apart as they possibly could, desperately trying to draw a clear line between them.
Su Xi tried her best to lower her presence, but for the rest of the day, she couldn’t help replaying Huo Jingchuan’s words in her mind.
Right, she and Huo Jingchuan being forcibly pair-matched by their parents wasn’t something new—she’d long since gotten used to it, to the point her ears had calluses and she could treat it as if she hadn’t heard a thing. So why was she especially mindful today? She even felt, when she got the text message from her mom before leaving the house, as if she were betraying someone…
Su Xi couldn’t help but recall Zai Zai’s faint expression—no, the expressions of two Zai Zais. On the left, the little bun-faced one looked down, shoulders drooped, on the verge of tears, while on the right, the teenage boy’s expression was quiet and restrained, forcing himself as he smiled and said to her, “I’m not angry.”
…She had already been feeling a chill on her neck from the air-conditioning, and now an even deeper shiver ran through her.
She couldn’t help looking up at the air, a little worried that Zai Zai had heard all the jokes their two families’ parents had just made—
But then, she immediately felt something was wrong with herself—wait, why was she feeling so guilty? She didn’t owe anyone anything!
───♡───
And Su Xi hadn’t guessed wrong. Lu Huan had indeed heard every word of the two families’ adults talking inside the private room. When Su Xi and Huo Jingchuan leaned their heads together to whisper, his gaze practically wished it could bore a hole straight through Huo Jingchuan’s skull.
Watching those two heads draw closer and closer, such an eyesore, Lu Huan almost wanted to reach out and pull them apart.
Back when he didn’t know who she was, his greatest wish was simply to exchange notes with her every day without interruption. Once he finally learned who she was and gained her companionship, he then wanted to see her in person. When he finally obtained the curtain, knew her voice and appearance, and could finally speak face-to-face with her, he realized just how vast her world truly was. Even after spending half a year learning the language, culture, and way of life of her world, he discovered that though she seemed close enough to touch, it was still like trying to scoop up the moon in the water.
He, too, wished to walk beside her, breathe the same air as her, face her directly, feel her warmth, instead of spending his days separated by a thousand years of time and the cold, empty curtain.
Lu Huan pressed down the longing and desire in his heart, steadied himself, and sped up dealing with his side of things.
Rumors had already begun spreading in the capital, saying that somehow a Ninth Prince had suddenly appeared. And when an official brought this matter up in court to accuse the emperor, the emperor changed the subject and did not refute it.
To the people of Yan, this was simply a topic for idle gossip over tea, but among the various factions in the capital, it was far from a pleasant matter.
Especially for the Fifth Prince and the Crown Prince.
When the Fifth Prince heard the news, his face immediately darkened, and he volunteered in the Golden Throne Hall to capture those spreading the rumors. As for the Crown Prince’s side, the Chancellor and the Empress did not look pleased either, though they were not as impulsive as the Fifth Prince and chose to hold back for now.
This Ninth Prince—perhaps newer officials who had only recently entered the palace didn’t know, but the princes and the officials who had served for many years all knew perfectly well. Wasn’t it said that back then, after that Noble Lady Qing fell into the pond and was rescued, the entire pond was filled with blood, and a not-yet-fully-formed dead infant was found, making it one corpse with two lives? After that incident, the entire palace avoided mentioning “Noble Lady Qing” and the unborn “Ninth Prince.”
But how was it that seventeen years had passed, and someone dared bring up old events again, claiming that the Ninth Prince hadn’t died at all but had been properly raised at Changchun Temple by the emperor?
No one knew that this rumor had been spread by the emperor’s own instructions to his close attendants; they only thought it unimaginable.
But seeing the emperor’s attitude in the Golden Throne Hall when the rumor was mentioned, some civil and military officials began to guess—could it be that, in order to balance the power among the princes, the emperor had really created a Ninth Prince? Or… was there truly something suspicious about that event back then, and the Ninth Prince really hadn’t died?!
In any case, no one knew the truth yet, but the capital was already in uproar.
Only the Minister of War, who knew part of the truth, decided at this moment to write a letter to inform General Zhenyuan, telling him that once he returned to the capital he must not act rashly and should wait for the minister to go to his residence to discuss matters.
───♡───
When Su Xi logged on again that night, rumors about the Ninth Prince had already spread throughout the capital, even the entire Yan kingdom.
Lu Huan had not discussed releasing the information with Su Xi. She found out only when she entered the initial Ning Prince Manor interface and saw Lu Wenxiu whining to Princess Ning about it.
She froze for a moment.
The only people who knew the Ninth Prince’s true identity were she and Zai Zai, the Daoist nun at Changchun Temple, the Minister of War, and the emperor who had pieced it together.
And these rumors must have been spread by the emperor’s orders. But Su Xi guessed that behind it all, Zai Zai had definitely played a role in pushing things along.
She couldn’t quite understand it. Back at Changchun Temple, Zai Zai told her he didn’t want to be drawn into the capital’s struggles and had little interest in the position of prince. So why was he doing this now—like he had resolved to claim the prince’s seat?
At that time, she’d even felt a little conflicted, because if she continued completing the tasks according to the game’s arrangement, then she would be going against Zai Zai’s will.
But now Zai Zai had changed his mind on his own.
Why—?
Was it because the two latest tasks had also appeared on his side? Did he change his original intention in order to complete the tasks? Or… was he doing it for the points?
After one hundred points, a new bridge of communication appeared between them. After two hundred points, the system’s so-called “big reward” should be… an even closer kind of meeting?
A sudden guess surfaced in Su Xi’s mind. Could it be that after two hundred points, they would be able to travel through time?! Otherwise, why would Zai Zai, ever since he could see her after reaching one hundred points, begin to actively complete tasks, even studying madly and leading troops into battle—was it… to meet her?
If they really could meet after two hundred points—Su Xi’s heart immediately pounded wildly, an indescribable excitement surging through her.
Before reaching one hundred points, she had desperately completed tasks for the sake of communicating with Zai Zai as soon as possible. And earlier, when she saw the game gradually moving toward the final chapter, the reason she felt that pang of loss was also because she feared that once the final chapter arrived, she would never see Zai Zai again.
After knowing each other for so long, they had once wandered the marketplace together, studied late into the night together, and solved many difficult problems together. Yet the two of them had always existed in two different eras.
They could speak, they could see each other, but there was no warmth.
So her feelings were the same as Zai Zai’s—she wanted to see him too.
But at the same time, a faint unease rose in her heart. Setting aside the question of whether he could even come to her time after reaching two hundred points—
If he could come, and he did… then what?
Would he regret it?
For the year and a half she had accompanied him, she had seen with her own eyes how he struggled to escape his difficult situation in Ning Prince Manor, how he slowly broke free, dealt with Princess Ning and the two Lu brothers, brought down the Shangguan family, worked in the Ministry of War, managed the estates, earned the respect of General Zhenyuan and the Minister of War, gained their support, led armies, suffered countless wounds, and at last fought his way step by step to where he stood today… the position of prince was already within reach, the hearts of the people won, the subordinates disciplined.
Just one final step, and he could personally fulfill his original dream of peace and prosperity under clear rivers and calm seas.
He had worked so hard, for so long, to obtain all of this. If he came to her world, wouldn’t he have to start everything from zero?
…Was she worth that?
The excitement in Su Xi’s heart was gradually extinguished by unease.
Guessing that Zai Zai had gone against his initial resolve and decided to accept the task of reclaiming the prince’s position for the sake of meeting her, she became somewhat restless.
…But right now, it was still uncertain what would happen after the final chapter. Perhaps the reward after two hundred points wouldn’t be a meeting at all—after all, communicating across time was one thing, but time travel was far too fantastical to be possible.
Su Xi felt conflicted: on one hand, she longed to meet Zai Zai; on the other, she didn’t want him to lose everything he had worked so hard to obtain because of her.
But then again, perhaps the reward after two hundred points wasn’t time travel at all. She didn’t know what would happen then, and there was no need to worry needlessly in advance. Thinking this way, Su Xi decided not to dwell on it for now. Since Zai Zai had made his decision, she would simply accompany him through the rest of the journey.
