Author Archives: Thingyan

By the time Xiao Yuanbao left the Ming household, it was already later in the afternoon.

Ming Guanxin’s maternal aunt had come to visit, and his mother had called him away to receive the guest.

So he didn’t come out to see Xiao Yuanbao off.

“Just now I saw a fancy sedan chair at the gate. Who came to the house?”

“It’s Second Young Master’s aunt—she went to the main madam’s courtyard and they’re chatting now.”

As Xiao Yuanbao walked through the corridor, he heard a particularly soft and gentle voice.

He looked up slightly and saw a young lady walking gracefully out of the garden, her hair styled in the current city fashion—a flower-and-moon bun—and dressed in a soft goose-yellow gown.

Her jade-white hand held a round silk fan, with fine dark brows and bright, lively eyes.

She had an exceptionally beautiful face.

Xiao Yuanbao had always liked pretty things. He’d seen people with delicate features and proper appearances before.

But he had never seen a young lady this stunning—it caught him completely off guard, and for a moment, he was dazed.

“This young ger looks unfamiliar. May I ask who…”

Ming Youtang looked at Xiao Yuanbao with her bright eyes, puzzled.

Hearing that soft and gentle voice was like a spring breeze brushing across Xiao Yuanbao’s face.

He belatedly returned her greeting with a polite bow.

“This is Xiao Yuanbao, Bao Ge’er, whom Second Young Master invited to the house as a guest. He’s just about to head home.”

The maid escorting Xiao Yuanbao introduced him to Ming Youtang.

“So he’s my second brother’s friend.”

Ming Youtang looked over Xiao Yuanbao with a mild smile. “Second Brother invited a friend over, yet didn’t call me over to meet him.”

“Bao Ge’er, if you’re not in a hurry, why not come sit for a bit in my courtyard?”

Xiao Yuanbao replied, “Thank you for your kind offer, elder sister, but my home is far, and it’s getting late—I’m afraid I won’t make it back in time.”

“In that case, I won’t insist.”

Ming Youtang said, “Next time you come visit the estate again, you must come have tea at my courtyard. Second Brother’s friend is also my friend.”

Xiao Yuanbao expressed his thanks.

The young lady lifted her hand and took a sachet from a servant, offering it to Xiao Yuanbao as a greeting gift.

Seeing that it was just a scented sachet—not something too valuable—he accepted it with thanks.

Only then did he bid farewell and leave.

Once the corridor turned a corner and no one was in sight, Xiao Yuanbao asked the maid beside him, “I only knew Guanxin had a brother—I didn’t realize he had a younger sister too?”

The maid glanced at the sachet in his hand, then pressed her lips lightly before replying:

“She’s a daughter from the second branch, called Ming Youtang.”

Xiao Yuanbao’s brow moved slightly—so she was a concubine-born daughter.

He looked again at the sachet in his hand and thought she seemed quite kind and well-mannered.

“Was that ger really a guest invited to Baozhu Pavilion?”

“Yes, this is already his second visit. He came in the morning, and Second Young Master even had him stay for a meal.”

Ming Youtang lightly covered her nose with her scented fan, her lovely eyes showing a hint of distaste.

“Look at that plain cloth outfit—not even as nicely dressed as the kitchen maids in our household. Who knows what countryside village that ger came from.”

Ming Youtang chuckled and turned to the servant woman beside her. “His eyes stared straight at me like I was a goddess—clearly someone who’s never seen the world. It’s rather amusing.”

The older maid replied, “Miss, you’re so beautiful—who wouldn’t look at you? That ger is from the countryside—how could he have seen a noble lady like you before?”

Flattered, Ming Youtang smiled, pleased. “Coming out of my chubby Second Brother’s courtyard and seeing me—it’s no wonder he looked amazed.”

“But it is odd—my second brother has a proud and willful temper. He never gets along with village folk. Why would he let that ger stay for a meal?”

“Maybe that ger is good at flattery and managed to please Second Young Master.”

Ming Youtang shook her head. “Doesn’t seem like it. That one didn’t look very clever—doesn’t seem the type who knows how to curry favor.”

“Slip a few coins to someone in Baozhu Pavilion and ask around—maybe there’s some fun gossip to be had.”

After leaving the Ming estate, Xiao Yuanbao didn’t head straight home. Instead, he turned toward the inn where Qi Beinan was staying.

Though the exam had already ended and it was getting late—he wouldn’t be able to stay long—it still felt right to stop by since he’d come into town.

“Xiao Bao!”

Qi Beinan was carrying his book box and walking back from the exam hall. From afar, he saw a familiar figure waiting outside the inn and hurried over.

Xiao Yuanbao saw Qi Beinan returning and happily stepped forward.

“Was the prefecture exam tiring?”

“Pretty much the same as always.”

Qi Beinan had a smile on his face as he led Xiao Yuanbao inside. He asked the inn staff to bring up one cup of sweet tea and one cup of fresh tea.

“Is this the same room you stayed in last time?”

It was Xiao Yuanbao’s first time stepping into the inn room. He noticed the setup wasn’t too different from their own rooms at home.

There was a bed, a table, a washstand—everything was quite complete.

“Yes, same room. It’s decent enough, so I didn’t bother looking for another place.”

“This is already a premium room. They even brought up hot water, and there’s so many furnishings.”

Qi Beinan said, “Costs eighty copper coins a night.”

Xiao Yuanbao walked a round through the room and laughed. “As long as it’s convenient, it’s worth the price. It’s not like you stay at an inn every day.”

He sat at the table and asked, “Did your exam go smoothly, brother?”

Qi Beinan smiled, “You came all this way to check on me—whether it went well or not, it now feels like it did.”

“Who said I came to check on you? I was visiting the Ming family today—just came to see you on the way.”

Xiao Yuanbao lifted his chin proudly and said, “Guanxin even had me stay for lunch. We had quail soup, bone-in lamb, eight-treasure duck stew, and sweet fruit porridge…”

He listed all the dishes one by one, then rested his chin in his hand and said to Qi Beinan, “I’ve realized that wealthy households really do have different dishes than ordinary ones. Things like lamb and quail—I’ve hardly ever eaten them. Even when I’ve gone out with my teacher to cook for banquets, no one ever prepares those kinds of meats. I don’t even know how to cook them.”

Qi Beinan said, “That’s because those meats are expensive. Poorer families might only eat meat a few times a year. Even families that are better off still choose more economical meats for everyday meals. The cost of a portion of lamb could get you three portions of pork. And quail, though tender and flavorful, is only half the size of a hand—how many bites can one family even get?”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded. He understood these things.

He had once thought he was quite impressive—still young and already able to cook many dishes. His teacher often praised him for being diligent and full of potential.

He had been somewhat proud, thinking that by the time he was thirteen, he’d surely be able to take over the kitchen.

But after just two visits to the Ming household and getting the smallest taste of a broader world, he’d immediately realized how much he lacked.

Leaving everything else aside, just talking about cooking alone, there was so much he still didn’t know.

Right now, all he really knew were basic street-style dishes. As for the everyday family-style dishes served in wealthy city households—there were so many he didn’t know how to make at all.

No wonder, he thought, that the first time he went out with his teacher to cook for a client, the host still brought in a city cook to elevate the banquet.

Back then, he didn’t like how haughty the city cook acted—but in terms of experience, the city cook really did have much more exposure.

“If I stay in the village my whole life, the skills I learn from my teacher would be enough. But if I want to work in town, these street-style dishes just won’t cut it.”

Qi Beinan gently pinched Xiao Yuanbao’s cheek. “Our Xiao Bao is learning to reflect on himself. Very good.”

“Looks like visiting the Ming household wasn’t a waste.”

Xiao Yuanbao brushed off Qi Beinan’s hand. “I’m being serious, and you’re teasing me.”

Qi Beinan smiled, then said seriously, “Even if we take the most cautious outlook, and say you’ll only ever live and work in the village, it would still be wise to learn some county-style dishes.”

“Hm?”

Xiao Yuanbao looked up.

“Think about it—if you can cook both village-style and city-style food, wouldn’t that set you apart from others? In the village, they’ll look up to you. And in the county, no one will be able to look down on you.”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes lit up. “That’s true! I really do need to keep studying hard.”

After a moment, he added a little gloomily, “I want to, but my teacher doesn’t really know city dishes either. Who can I learn from?”

Qi Beinan said, “Take your time. As long as you’re willing, the opportunity will come. First master everything you can learn now—then when the chance to learn something new appears, you won’t be overwhelmed, right?”

“Mm.”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded.

Admiringly, he pinched the sleeve of Qi Beinan’s robe.

All these years, whenever something troubled him, as long as he talked to his brother, he’d always find clarity.

The inn staff brought in two cups of tea. Xiao Yuanbao quickly went to take them and drank a sip.

The afternoon heat and their chatting had made him thirsty.

The sweet tea was tasty, fragrant with just the right amount of sugar—though it was a bit too sweet, and drinking too much left a cloying aftertaste.

He picked up Qi Beinan’s fresh tea and had two sips before stopping.

“Oh right, I saw a young lady at the Ming household today—she looked just like a fairy. Brother, have you seen her before when you visited?”

Xiao Yuanbao took a sachet from his robe. “Look, she even gave me this. She spoke very gently and seemed very kind.”

Qi Beinan looked at the light green sachet. It was made of lower-quality satin, embroidered with zinnias.

His brow furrowed slightly. He picked it up and gave it a little squeeze. Just as he suspected—there were coins inside.

“Why are there copper coins in here? I just slipped it into my robe when she gave it to me. I hadn’t looked closely.”

Xiao Yuanbao looked at the six copper coins inside, surprised. Did people in wealthy households really have a habit of stuffing money in sachets?

Qi Beinan asked, “Do you know who this girl is?”

Xiao Yuanbao replied, “They said she’s from the second branch.”

Qi Beinan carefully rewrapped the sachet. “If you ever run into her again, try not to get too close.”

“You haven’t met many people yet. Most of the folks you know are simple and straightforward. But big households like that are complicated—many people aren’t what they seem.”

Xiao Yuanbao looked a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong with the sachet?”

“Zinnias grow fast and are tough, so they carry good meaning. But in big households, sachets with zinnia embroidery are usually used as token gifts for servants. If there are coins inside too—then it’s definitely a servant’s reward.”

Xiao Yuanbao stared in slight shock.

So when Ming Youtang gave him that sachet, she was… giving him the kind of thing used to pay off servants?

Qi Beinan hadn’t really wanted to tell Xiao Yuanbao all this—but since he was getting closer to Ming Guanxin, it was likely he’d run into Ming Youtang again sooner or later.

Better to give him a little heads-up now, to avoid getting hurt later.

Seeing how dejected Xiao Yuanbao looked, Qi Beinan said, “The world is full of all kinds of people. You can’t expect every encounter to be with someone kind.”

Xiao Yuanbao responded with a quiet “mm.”

Seeing that it was getting late, Qi Beinan walked him all the way to the city gates. Only after watching him get onto the ox cart did he turn back.

The next day, there were two exams—one in the morning and one in the afternoon.

The schedule was tight.

Qi Beinan read over the questions but didn’t draft anything first—he went straight to writing on the final answer sheet.

He finished the required policy essay in under 300 words.

Then he sat calmly and waited for time to pass, handing in his paper when the invigilators came around.

…

Ten days later…

“I hope he made the list… he has to make it…”

Qi Beinan heard soft muttering beside him and turned his head.

It was Zhao Guangzong, hands clenched tightly, a sheen of cold sweat on his forehead, his face filled with anxious tension.

“Look at you—you’d think I was the one waiting for your exam results, not my own.”

Qi Beinan chuckled. “Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m just worried no one will go with me to the academy entrance exam.”

Zhao Guangzong said, “I’m not praying for your results, I’m praying I won’t be going alone!”

Xiao Yuanbao added, “Brother always looks so unfazed. Everyone back in the village thinks you’re just planning to take the exams again in a few years.”

“Villagers always love to worry over nothing.”

Zhao Guangzong said, “When I was waiting for my name on the list last time, I wasn’t this nervous. Everything felt so unreal, I just dumbly stood there until Bao Ge’er said I passed.”

“I didn’t even think much about anything. But now that I’m waiting for your results, I feel much more clear-headed.”

“That’s because Chen Fuzi scared you so badly last time you went numb—even forgot to be nervous.”

“You two—shush!”

Xiao Yuanbao suddenly called out, “The red list is here!”

A buzz swept through the crowd below the notice board, then quieted.

Then came a shout: “I made it! I made the list!”

The sounds of joy and disappointment mingled beneath the board.

Some people started whispering with curiosity, pointing at the top of the list: “Isn’t the first name the same as the one who topped the county exam back in February?”

“It is! I remember clearly—it’s Qi Beinan!”

“Who is this person, to be so steady and strong—first place in both rounds. Could he be from some high-ranking family?”

“Is he here watching the list? I want to catch a glimpse of what he looks like.”

But by then, Qi Beinan, Xiao Yuanbao, and Zhao Guangzong had already left the announcement area and were walking toward the busy market.

With Qi Beinan’s results, reading the list was effortless. One glance was enough—no need to search line by line.

Zhao Guangzong and Xiao Yuanbao were still glowing with joy, wide grins stuck on their faces.

Only Qi Beinan remained as calm and steady as ever, showing little excitement.

Not because he didn’t know how to be happy, but because he had already gone through the entire emotional cycle—anxiety, tension, hope, the joy of seeing his name—all of it, many times before.

And after all, this was just the prefecture exam.

He had experienced far bigger storms, while those around him had yet to even take their first real step outside their small world.

Though he had yet to take the academy entrance exam that would truly step into the scholar-gentry class, for an ordinary farming household, passing two exams in a row and becoming a tongsheng was already an achievement worthy of bringing honor to the ancestors.

Still, Qi Beinan didn’t want to make a show of it. He told Xiao Yuanbao and Zhao Guangzong to simply say he made the list if asked, and not to mention the top score.

“You’ve always had a calm temperament. When I passed the prefecture exam, my father was so happy he went half mad—banging drums and all. I got so caught up in the noise that I completely messed up the academy exam afterward. You’re doing well. If you want to celebrate, wait until after the June academy exam.”

Qi Beinan was pleased to see that Zhao Guangzong, after two years at the county school under good teachers, had grown steady and level-headed.

After seeing the list, he told Zhao Guangzong to head back first. The academy exam was near, and this visit to the board had already cost half a day of study.

Though they would take the exam together, their circumstances were different.

Qi Beinan wanted him to make the most of every moment to study.

He and Xiao Yuanbao didn’t linger in the city either.

They bought two jin of marinated meat, a roast duck, and a pouch of mixed offal, happily heading back to the village.

Xiao Hu was working in the fields that day, and he and Tian Ken had both looked toward the road several times.

Villagers working the land greeted them along the way, stopping to ask about the exam results.

Near noon, they finally arrived home.

The household was overjoyed, even the usually quiet Xiao Hu opened a jar of good wine and said they must host a feast for Qi Beinan.

“Can’t do that, Uncle Xiao. It’s April, and we’re right in the middle of the busy farming season. Hosting a feast takes time and effort—not to mention, even if I passed the prefecture exam, there’s still the academy exam in June.”

“Time is already tight. Spending it on hosting, entertaining guests—none of that is worthwhile right now. If I’m lucky enough to do well in the academy exam, then wouldn’t a proper banquet then be even better?”

Xiao Hu listened and agreed it made sense, though he still looked a little disappointed. “It’s a shame not to celebrate such great news. In recent years, aside from the village chief’s son Guangzong passing the tongsheng exam, no one else has done it.”

Qi Beinan poured a cup of wine for Xiao Hu and said, “I plan to continue down the path of the imperial exams—there will be plenty more chances to celebrate in the future.”

Xiao Hu paused slightly, giving Qi Beinan a long, thoughtful look.

This boy… he had ambition.

“When I first came to the Xiao family, I made a promise to Uncle Xiao—one I’ve never forgotten. What I said I’d do, I will do.”

Xiao Hu’s brows lifted. Back then, Qi Beinan had promised he’d achieve success in the exams, gain official status, and use that to protect and care for Xiao Bao.

At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. People often make grand promises when they’re in need.

But seeing him now, it seemed he’d been sincere all along.

Maybe… maybe Xiao Bao really would be that lucky in the future.

“What promise? What are you talking about keeping?”

Xiao Yuanbao came out holding a plate of marinated meat and overheard their conversation, asking curiously.

“They were saying you’ll have good fortune in the future.”

Xiao Hu patted Xiao Yuanbao on the head, his smile warm and content.

“But it’s brother who passed the exam. Why am I the lucky one?”

Xiao Yuanbao grinned. “Father, are you drunk before even drinking?”

Qi Beinan and Xiao Hu both chuckled and didn’t say any more about it.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

By the end of March, the village fields were already tinged with green.

The wild vegetables on the hills and in the valleys had entered their edible season again.

Xiao Yuanbao went to the creek and picked a bunch of water celery, and along the way, he also gathered some purple-stemmed fiddlehead ferns.

It had rained in early February, but from then until late March, there were only two brief showers—nothing like the lingering, drizzling spring rain.

The weather grew warmer by the day, causing the wild peach and plum trees on the mountaintop to bloom in large swaths. The fruit trees down the hill, needless to say, were even earlier—some had already finished blooming.

When he reached the riverbank, the water had receded by about the width of a finger.

In past years, water celery grew tender and abundant here, but with the water shortage this year, there was far less of it, and the stalks were small.

He actually preferred the small-stemmed variety—it paired better with stir-fried cured meat, soaking up the flavors. But judging from this year’s conditions, it seemed his brother was right—there might be a drought in the summer.

Xiao Yuanbao carefully picked a big bundle of water celery and placed it in his basket. Before long, two village boys arrived, swinging small sickles, cutting down the water celery in rows. Who knew if it was for feeding livestock or bundled with palm leaves to be sold in the city.

He slung the basket over his arm and headed home.

It was a busy time at the start of spring. His father and Tian Ken-ge were already out working in the fields by the break of dawn, only returning after toiling for over an hour to eat breakfast.

His brother sometimes went out to help too, but with the prefecture-level exam approaching, their father had forbidden him from going to the fields anymore.

Xiao Yuanbao quickened his pace home. While the weather was still cool, he planned to help Tian Ken-ge carry two baskets of manure to the jujube field at the far end.

He couldn’t manage much farm work in a day—he had to take care of meals and clothes for the entire family, cooking and laundry included.

Spring was the season for hard labor, so hearty and satisfying meals were a must to provide enough energy.

The more work there was, the quicker the clothes got dirty, which meant laundry had to be done more often too.

“This time the fertilizer is definitely working. The row of vegetables planted in jars by the courtyard wall grew best with this formula.”

When Xiao Yuanbao arrived in the courtyard, he saw Qi Beinan and Tian Ken at the composting spot in the backyard.

He placed his vegetable basket up high to keep the pesky chickens and ducks from pecking at it, then walked over.

“Are we applying the fertilizer now?”

Tian Ken replied, “Yeah, the weather’s warm. If it keeps heating up, the land will dry and the nutrients will evaporate. I noticed the sky looks overcast, the swallows are flying low, and the mountain’s wearing a hat—if it doesn’t rain tonight, it’ll rain tomorrow. Better to fertilize now while the soil can still absorb it.”

Qi Beinan flipped through Tian Ken’s composting notes, skimmed a couple of pages, then handed the notebook back.

That guy couldn’t read a single character. The notes only made sense to him.

Though Qi Beinan couldn’t interpret the fermentation periods or the materials used, the lush growth of the vegetables at the courtyard base spoke for itself.

They’d planted Chinese cabbage, radishes, spinach, lettuce, scallions… all common varieties.

But instead of planting one kind per jar, they mixed several types in each jar—about a dozen jars in total.

They experimented with different fertilizer compositions and fermentation durations.

This way, not only could they tell which compost worked best, but also which vegetables didn’t respond well to that specific mix.

Back in February, a rooster flew into the vegetable jars and pecked away at most of the lush greens.

Xiao Yuanbao had been so mad, he cooked that rooster with taro that same night.

He had been eyeing the scallions for days—they were thick and fresh. That morning, he’d wanted to grab a handful for noodles but resisted, letting Tian Ken continue observing their growth. Only for that rooster to ruin it all.

“Just do what you’ve decided,” Qi Beinan said.

“We’ve been testing fertilizers this long. If it works in jars, no reason it won’t work in the fields.”

Tian Ken laughed in agreement. “Yeah.”

Xiao Yuanbao rolled up his sleeves. “Brother Tian, I’ll help you spread the fertilizer.”

Qi Beinan asked, “Aren’t you afraid of the stink?”

“I do father’s laundry every day—I’m used to the smell.”

Xiao Yuanbao thought, no wonder the ladies and gers outside always curse ‘stinky men.’ They really are stinky.

But… he leaned in close to Qi Beinan and took a sniff. His brother didn’t stink—in fact, he smelled kind of nice.

Qi Beinan looked down at him sniffing all over, then pinched his cheek. “Are you a little dog?”

“I just changed clothes last night. No smell.”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded in approval. “Brother, you’re the cleanest one in our house.”

Tian Ken scooped two buckets of compost, and Xiao Yuanbao wanted to help.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t carry both buckets or even one properly, so he hoisted the plow and rake instead and followed Tian Ken to the field.

Qi Beinan was going to join them, but Xiao Yuanbao pushed him back into the house. There were only two days left until the prefecture exam. What was he doing thinking about working in the fields?

He wanted to argue, but there was no use.

“Might as well give up. Still out there lugging compost like it’s gold.”

“This year’s weather’s been warm. If the crops die, we might not harvest anything. Then again, it’s no big deal—wealthy families can always buy vegetables.”

Xiao Yuanbao heard the sarcastic grumbling from the dry fields Tian Ken was working in and turned his head to glance over.

“Uncle Xu, are you planning to sell your vegetables?”

The old man in the field looked up. “When did I ever say I was selling vegetables?”

“Well, if you’re not in the veggie business, why worry about others buying them or not? It’s not like it affects your trade.”

Xiao Yuanbao shot a sidelong glance at Qi Beinan. “You sure have a lot of free time.”

“Hey now! You brat—everyone in the Xiao family’s fierce, aren’t they!”

Xiao Yuanbao replied, “The fierce one hasn’t even shown up yet. If you think I’m being fierce, then if my father came by, would Uncle Xu even dare open his mouth?”

Old Man Xu couldn’t win the argument, so he could only grumble, “With a mouth that sharp, I’d like to see which family would dare marry you in the future!”

“Uncle Xu really is free, huh? Even worrying about his neighbor’s marriage prospects.”

Xiao Yuanbao added without a hint of politeness, “Why not worry about your own ger at home instead?”

Old Xu still had a ger at home, already over twenty, yet still unmarried. Matchmakers had gone knocking several times, all with no result.

Each year, the marriage tax climbed higher, and it was enough to drive a person mad with worry.

Now he was being lectured by a kid.

Old Xu shot him a strange look but couldn’t outtalk Xiao Yuanbao, so he pretended not to see him and furiously went back to weeding the field, refusing to say another word.

Tian Ken said, “Old Xu stirred up trouble last time too. He was still mad that I took the compost he originally picked out. Brother, don’t stoop to his level.”

“I heard from my brother that he stirred up trouble. Look how long ago that was, and he’s still holding a grudge against our family.”

Xiao Yuanbao said, “With so many households in the village, even a sage couldn’t make everyone happy. If he won’t be courteous to us, then why should I smile at him? Give it time—he’ll really start thinking we’re easy to push around.”

He laughed and said to Tian Ken, “Let’s just grow our crops well—when the vegetables and fruits grow big and strong, it’ll just make them mad.”

Tian Ken laughed too. “Yeah! Now that’s the spirit!”

A couple days later, Fang Jie’er came to the house with an invitation.

She said that now spring had arrived, the weather was warmer, flowers and plants were blooming, and there was more fruit and vegetables than in winter. The second young master of the Ming family was inviting Xiao Yuanbao over for a visit.

And the invitation was just for him.

“If you two get along, go spend some time together and have fun.”

Xiao Yuanbao took the invitation and went to ask Qi Beinan what he thought, and he answered, “It’s not your first time going.”

Xiao Yuanbao actually wanted to go. Seeing that Qi Beinan didn’t object, he said, “Anyway, the day they invited me is the same day you’ll be in town taking the exam. If I go, I can stop by the inn and see you.”

Qi Beinan nodded. “Alright.”

Xiao Yuanbao frowned a little. “But I can’t go empty-handed again. Last time, Second Brother Ming gave me so many nice things.”

But he didn’t know what kind of gift would be suitable. Making friends with people like that was such a headache. If it were ordinary folks, he could just bring a little sachet, a couple of hair ribbons, or some pretty silk thread.

But a family like the Ming family—they already had everything. What could he give that they hadn’t already seen?

Qi Beinan said, “If you’re making friends on equal footing, then yes, it’s proper to bring a gift.”

“The Ming family is rich and lacks for nothing. Even if they do, it’s not something you can provide. So you’ll have to show sincerity. That’s what they’ll care about.”

Xiao Yuanbao thought for a moment. “Then I’ll prepare something myself.”

He couldn’t rely on his brother to make every decision for him—especially now that the prefecture exam was just around the corner.

A few days later, it was already April. Qi Beinan went to the county seat for the exam.

This time it was only three sections, so the whole thing would be over in two days.

Qi Beinan entered the city and stayed at the inn the first day, but this time he only needed to stay two nights.

One less night meant a much smaller bundle to pack.

April’s warm weather made for the most comfortable testing season.

There were two old peach trees at the exam site that had been there for many years. They were likely sprouting new leaves. After finishing his answers, it’d be a nice thing just to look at the flowering trees.

Much better than the bare, empty scene in February.

The next morning, Xiao Yuanbao also got himself all tidied up, carried a food box, and brought the invitation to the Ming residence.

In April, the Ming estate looked far more beautiful than it had in the winter months.

In the large garden beyond the covered walkway, so many flowers had bloomed.

Peonies the size of rice bowls, dainty little wintersweet crabapples, pure white camellias… With the food box on his arm, Xiao Yuanbao felt like he was stepping into a sea of blossoms.

Even at the entrance, the air was thick with the floral scent you couldn’t smell from outside. There were so many flowers—not all fragrant—but under the spring sunlight, there was a scent of spring in the air.

Vibrant and lively, the sight alone lifted one’s spirits.

“Bao Ge’er! You’re finally here!”

Xiao Yuanbao was still mesmerized by the garden when a cheerful voice cut in.

He flinched and looked up to see Ming Guanxin hurrying over.

“I’ve been meaning to invite you over for ages, but the two months around New Year were the busiest at home—so many guests coming and going. Then just as we got to early February, my brother had to sit for the exam, and Father wouldn’t let us host visitors.”

Ming Guanxin pouted. “Look at that—dragged it out all the way into April.”

Xiao Yuanbao looked at the round-faced Ming Guanxin and thought he looked a little chubbier again—must’ve eaten well during the New Year.

“So how did your brother’s boy exam go?”

Ming Guanxin shrugged. “If he passed the county-level exam, this would be the time for the prefecture one. But nope—other people get to leave the exam hall, and he got locked in the study.”

Xiao Yuanbao pressed his lips together, eyes widening. “You’re even telling me that? Not saving face for your brother at all?”

Ming Guanxin burst out laughing. “My brother’s exactly the kind of guy people call a spoiled rich kid. He wouldn’t think being grounded by Father to reflect in the study is anything embarrassing!”

“Aiya, why are we wasting time talking about my unlucky brother? It’s not often you come to town from the countryside.”

Seeing this, Xiao Yuanbao quickly handed over the food box he’d prepared. “There’s nothing special from the countryside, just a few snacks I brought for you.”

“You didn’t have to bring anything just to visit.”

Ming Guanxin said that, but the moment he heard it was food, he immediately grabbed the box.

The two of them entered the Baozhu Pavilion. Ming Guanxin kicked off his shoes and dragged Xiao Yuanbao up onto the soft couch.

Eagerly, he opened the plain gray bamboo food box, and his eyes lit up.

“Didn’t you say before that you liked bamboo shoots? Spring just started, and the bamboo groves on the mountain sprouted. I dug some up and made a few bamboo shoot dishes. See if they suit your taste.”

Xiao Yuanbao said, “I’m still learning to cook. The food’s at best cooked through, not something that’ll send you running to the outhouse.”

This time of year, the mountains had fat and juicy spring shoots from hairy bamboo, tender bitter bamboo just poking through, and crisp, sweet thunder bamboo shoots.

He picked a variety, parboiled them last night, then pickled the bitter and thunder shoots. This morning, he dressed them cold with sesame oil and seasoning.

The spring shoots he stir-fried with garlic sprouts. He’d talked with Ming Guanxin before and knew he ate cured meat, so he made a stir-fry with that.

Besides those, he also brought some preserved spicy bamboo shoots he’d made earlier.

All in all, it filled a whole food box.

“I was going to make a mustard greens and bitter bamboo shoot soup too—it’s super refreshing and appetizing—but I came by ox cart and was afraid it’d spill on the way.”

“Oh, and there’s water bamboo that grows around May or June—I brought some I dried last year. If you want, I’ll make a dish for you later.”

Ming Guanxin looked at all the dishes and couldn’t resist calling a servant to fetch chopsticks to try them.

The stir-fried bamboo was still a little warm—not quite as fragrant as when freshly cooked—but the flavor was still mouthwatering. He ate two pieces in a row before putting down the chopsticks.

Then he hurried to try the pickled ones.

The bamboo looked fresh and tasted tangy and spicy, full of flavor—so crisp and tender it even crunched.

The Ming household’s kitchen usually made mild dishes without strong flavors, so Ming Guanxin rarely ate spicy food.

At first bite, the sour pickled bamboo made his mouth burn, but it was as if some magical spice had been added—it set off a flood of saliva and made him want more, unable to stop.

The cold-dressed bamboo was sprinkled with some kind of fragrant leaf, finely chopped and mixed into the blanched shoots, giving it a uniquely fresh taste when eaten.

“That’s xiangru (aromatic herb). In the summer, we also use it for eggplant dishes.”

Seeing that Ming Guanxin wasn’t put off, Xiao Yuanbao rested his chin on his hand and explained what he’d used and how he made everything.

He didn’t bring any meat dishes—families like the Ming household definitely had meat at every meal.

No matter how good meat is, eating too much gets cloying.

But if you served a couple plates of refreshing appetizers to whet the appetite and cut through the grease, they’d be delicious and stand out even more.

His brother always said that when gifting someone, nothing beats catering to their tastes—it makes people the happiest.

“Bao Ge’er, you’re the best. You really remembered what I said, even went through all that trouble to dig bamboo shoots and cook them for me.”

Ming Guanxin’s eyes were sparkling as he spoke nonstop. “It’s so good. How can bamboo shoots be dressed this deliciously?”

“The kitchen knows I love bamboo. This season when bamboo is sprouting, it’s always bamboo every day—bamboo braised in chicken broth today; stewed quail with tender bamboo tomorrow; stir-fried pork with bamboo the day after.”

Ming Guanxin said, “I’m already sick of it, and I’m still round-faced.”

“No matter how good bamboo tastes, don’t eat too much plain like this or you’ll get a stomachache.”

Xiao Yuanbao laughed. “I don’t have much skill. If you like cold dishes, just ask your kitchen to make them for you. Next time I come, I’ll bring more for you.”

“If you get tired of it, like I said before, have them make mustard greens and bitter bamboo shoot soup—it’s guaranteed to be refreshing and light.”

Ming Guanxin immediately clung to Xiao Yuanbao. “Good brother, stay for lunch with me today. Let’s make that mustard greens and bitter bamboo shoot soup together. I’m still tired of all the greasy food from the New Year!”

Xiao Yuanbao laughed. “What kind of meat did you eat during the New Year to still be tired of it in April?”

“I’m just trying to keep you around, alright?”

“Fine, fine, whatever you say.”

The two of them had a great time inside before Ming Guanxin took Xiao Yuanbao to the small kitchen.

The little courtyard kitchen was big, with all kinds of pots and pans.

Ming Guanxin knew he was interested in cooking and even showed him a few sets of tableware he used regularly.

“Whichever set you like, I’ll have the kitchen use it to serve lunch today.”

Xiao Yuanbao looked at the large carved cabinet with a lock—inside were three complete, exquisite, and clearly expensive sets of dishware.

One set was made of silver, gleaming brightly. Plates, bowls, cups, chopsticks—it was a full eight-person set.

He lifted a cup lightly—it was smooth and finely made, not too heavy in the hand.

But taken as a whole set, it was certainly hefty—without a few hundred taels, you couldn’t even dream of buying it.

The other two sets were porcelain. One was a red glaze with multicolor patterns and unique designs.

The other was a bright celadon.

Xiao Yuanbao had never seen such fine porcelain before. Just touching it gave a cool, smooth feeling.

At home, he had a sky-blue petal-rimmed tea cup that Third Brother Zhao brought back for him from the prefectural city after his exam.

He treasured it deeply and rarely used it for tea. Before, he already thought it was the best cup in the world.

Coming to the Ming household today was truly an eye-opener.

“I’ve always liked bright, vivid colors. Between these two sets of dishes, I’d say the red-glazed ones suit my taste better. That bright celadon set is too plain.”

Ming Guanxin said, “But my father says that set came from an official kiln. I do think the quality’s quite good, so we keep it for entertaining guests. Those young masters and ladies from official families think silver bowls are too vulgar.”

No matter how composed Xiao Yuanbao usually was, seeing and smelling all this still left him quite shaken inside.

“If there’s a set you like, I’ll gift it to you.”

Xiao Yuanbao immediately waved his hands. “Please don’t go to such expense—I could never accept something like this. Even if you sold me off, I probably wouldn’t fetch enough to pay for it. You already gave me so much last time, I still feel bad about it.”

“What’s that worth? I’ve given those stuck-up young ladies and masters from official families even better cups. I like you—what’s wrong with giving you a set of dishes?”

Xiao Yuanbao replied, “Since you put it that way, I’ll thank you for the kind thought. But I’m not the same as those kids from official families. You have your reasons for socializing with them, and they can accept expensive gifts. I’m already very happy just to be treated as your friend.”

“They talk like their high birth makes them noble, always acting all aloof. But when I gift them something nice, they’re the first to snatch it up. Behind my back, they still say I’m vulgar, say our family is just common merchants.”

Ming Guanxin said, “But you, Bao Ge’er, remember what I like—you’re so thoughtful. To me, that makes you better than all of them.”

Xiao Yuanbao smiled. “You think so highly of me, I don’t even know what to say. How about this—when the day comes that I become a proper head cook, then you can gift me a fancy cup. How’s that?”

Ming Guanxin pouted, stayed quiet for a moment, then finally agreed: “Alright, we’ll do it your way.”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

The day the internet café officially opened, the weather was perfect.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps between the leaves, dispelling the damp gloom of the forest.

Sitting at the entrance of the café, Lu Yao held a bottle of AD calcium milk in her hand—sweet and tangy, just like childhood.

Cheng Ye peeked out from behind the counter. “Those little sparrow spirits haven’t returned since they left.”

The rookie employee was eager to get to work.

Lu Yao replied, “Don’t panic. Let’s wait until noon. If we still don’t have any customers by then, we’ll think of something.”

Cheng Ye had heard Lu Yao mention that the café’s location wasn’t ideal and felt uncertain.

Lu Yao had faced similar situations with several of her stores and was used to it, but Cheng Ye wasn’t.

If the café failed, he’d be unemployed just as he started the job—the psychological gap was too much to bear.

The internal staff chat group was also closely watching the performance of the new store.

[Interdimensional Cinema Gesi]: “@Interdimensional Internet Café Cheng Ye, how’s it going? Any customers yet?”

Lu Yao had only added Cheng Ye to the internal staff group last night.

Seeing over 200 employees across the nine shops along the street gave Cheng Ye his first sense of how massive this operation was.

In the evening, when the office workers and students had free time, the group became as lively as a morning market, with messages flying by as if spanning several worlds.

As the sole employee of the internet café, the rookie staffer quietly lurked in the chat all night, too timid to speak.

[Interdimensional Internet Café, Cheng Ye]: “Not yet. The sparrow spirits haven’t come back.”

[Interdimensional Cinema, Kuba]: “Lu Yao is so naïve. How could spirits possibly keep their promises?”

[Nail Salon Harold]: “Every store of Lu Yao’s starts out this way. I’ll swing by during lunch to help.”

[Nail Salon Tina]: “[Jealous.JPG] If only I could help too.”

Tina and Harold had been preparing to leave Emerald Town for Dragon Valley but paused when they noticed Harold still glued to his phone. Curious, Tina peeked at the group chat.

She was genuinely envious of Harold, who could accompany Lu Yao to various alternate worlds and help her sort out troubles.

The rest of them had to stay on the continent of Alexander, guarding the nail salon and waiting for Lu Yao’s return.

[Childhood Tutoring Center Bai Yi]: “@Cheng Ye, let us know in the group if customers arrive. The ‘support squad’ is ready to act!”

[Interdimensionall Cinema, Gao Meng]: “+1, always ready!!!”

[Little Pet Cafe Zhou Su]: “+1”

[Little Pet Cafe Ji Zhixin]: “+1”

[Hot Spring Inn Bai Lu]: “+1”

…

In the Floating World Continent.

Lu Yao suddenly stood up and squinted at the heights. “Looks like they’re back.”

Her tone was flat, as if everything was within her expectations.

Cheng Ye looked up toward the door and saw a flock of sparrows fluttering in from outside.

Thud, thud, thud—

They all crashed into the wall in a heap.

Cheng Ye instinctively shut his eyes—it hurt just watching.

The sparrow spirits slid down to the floor, shook their heads, and scrambled to their feet, flapping toward Lu Yao, who stood by the door.

Lu Yao, however, was still gazing outside. In the forest, a black swallow hovered, unwilling to leave.

As soon as the sparrow spirits appeared, the black swallow dived down, its sharp beak jabbing into a sparrow’s wing, flipping it over.

The black swallow was fierce, taking on ten sparrows at once.

In the blink of an eye, all the sparrows had been knocked to the ground.

Not satisfied, the swallow landed on the floor and continued chasing the sparrows around, pecking at them.

Lu Yao observed for a moment and realized the swallow must have a grudge against the sparrows.

After this round of beatings, the sparrows were utterly deflated.

Lu Yao stepped in to block the swallow, who still seemed ready to strike again, and gave Cheng Ye a subtle signal with her eyes.

Cheng Ye blinked and quickly pulled out his phone.

[Interdimensional Internet Café, Cheng Ye]: “A black swallow showed up. Support team, get ready!”

[Little Pet Cafe Zhou Su]: “!!!”

[Little Pet Cafe Ji Zhixin]: “Support team ready!”

[Little Pet Cafe Zhou Su]: “Received!”

…

The black swallow was quite large. It wasn’t afraid of Lu Yao but didn’t harm her either. Seizing every opportunity, it tried to grab the sparrows cowering behind her like quails.

Lu Yao said, “Friend, may I ask what grievance you have with them? Judging by this beating, they’ve surely learned their lesson.”

The black swallow perched on the armrest of a chair, speaking in a human voice. “Move aside! Today I’m going to make them beg for mercy!”

Zhou Su and Ji Zhixin, members of the support team, walked in just in time to hear the swallow’s rough words. Struggling to hold back their laughter, they stood aside to watch the drama unfold.

The swallow, seeing Lu Yao was determined to shield the sparrows, began loudly recounting its history with them.

Two hundred years ago, it was an ordinary swallow living in the town of Baixian Mountain.

Back then, it had the misfortune of encountering this troublesome group of sparrows.

Sparrows couldn’t build nests properly.

To be precise, they weren’t as skilled as swallows. Sparrows would haphazardly pile together some grass to form crude nests.

Unhappy with their own nests, the sparrows would wait for the swallows to finish building theirs, then drive them out and occupy the carefully crafted mud nests.

Though the black swallow was good at building nests, it couldn’t fend off the crafty and aggressive sparrows.

That year, it repeatedly built new nests, only to have them taken over time and again.

Forced to relocate multiple times, the swallow eventually stumbled upon a stroke of fortune, gaining intelligence and cultivating for 200 years. It finally achieved human form just days ago.

Emerging from its cave, it unexpectedly ran into these same sparrows.

To its surprise, they too had gained intelligence over the centuries.

But the tables had turned. The once-bullied swallow had grown several sizes larger, chasing the sparrows for a full day and night, finally cornering them here.

Behind her back, Lu Yao gestured to Cheng Ye.

Cheng Ye cleared his throat, snapping Zhou Su and Ji Zhixin out of their daze.

The two recomposed themselves and approached the counter.

Ji Zhixin, clearly inexperienced, awkwardly said, “Net manager, open a computer for me.”

Cheng Ye remained seated. “One hour for ten mid-grade spirit stones.”

To enhance the immersion, Bai Lu had even arranged for traditional costumes to be rented.

That morning, the shop staff had received outfits and simple styling.

Ji Zhixin reached into his wide sleeve and pulled out a handful of colorful “spirit stones,” tossing them onto the counter. “One hour.”

He grabbed a number and casually walked to a computer near Lu Yao, sitting down and immediately starting to play.

Zhou Su completed the same process and sat next to him.

Both of them quickly opened simple mini-games, even inserting a bit of clumsy roleplay.

Ji Zhixin glanced at Zhou Su, who had opened a dress-up game, and sneered. “What’s so fun about that?”

Zhou Su, noticing Ji Zhixin’s screen loading Plants vs. Zombies, retorted, “This is even more boring!”

The two began arguing, attracting the attention of both the black swallow and the sparrows peeking out from behind Lu Yao.

Lu Yao, looking slightly embarrassed, explained to the swallow, “They’re customers.”

The black swallow hopped onto the back of Ji Zhixin’s chair, tilting its head to observe. “What’s he doing?”

Lu Yao replied, “This is an internet café. Customers come here just to go online.”

The swallow’s beady black eyes filled with curiosity. “Go online?”

Lu Yao nodded. “It’s a bit complicated to explain. How about this? My sparrows were thoughtless and disturbed you two centuries ago. I’ll apologize on their behalf. Since today is the café’s grand opening, I’ll give you some free internet coupons. Come by to play when you have time—it might help you let off some steam.”

The swallow alternated between watching Ji Zhixin’s hands under the desk and the screen above, ignoring Lu Yao for a while before asking, “What’s a coupon?”

Lu Yao explained, “Running an internet café is like running a shop in the human world. If customers want to go online, they need to pay with spirit stones. As for coupons, they’re a special promotion for our grand opening. With a coupon, customers don’t need to pay any spirit stones and can use the internet for free for three days. Normally, each customer is limited to one coupon. Since the sparrows were out of line, I’ll give you ten free coupons as an apology.”

A flicker of black spiritual light flashed, and the black swallow standing on the chair back suddenly transformed into a boy dressed in black, with jet-black eyes. He stood behind the chair, tilting his head as he looked at Lu Yao. “How do I play?”

In his transformed form, the black swallow appeared to be a slender boy of about thirteen or fourteen years old, with clear, rounded black eyes like polished river stones and strikingly handsome features.

Lu Yao waved to Cheng Ye. “Net manager, set up a computer for the Black Swallow Young Master.”

The black swallow’s seat was right next to Ji Zhixin’s.

The two undercover support staff straightened their backs, their hearts pounding, doing their best not to glance sideways.

Lu Yao handed the black swallow ten free coupons and guided him step by step on how to start up the computer, even showing him how to navigate to the game page.

Once connected to the internal system, the café’s computers shared a language conversion function with the network. All text on the desktop instantly transformed into the universal language of the Floating World Continent with a single click.

The desktop offered a selection of online games, MOBA games, chat software, reading apps, and video players. However, for the inhabitants of the Floating World Continent, the concept of an internet café was entirely new. Overcomplicating things might overwhelm them.

Recalling the simple joy of early internet cafés and arcades over a decade ago, Lu Yao decided to start with the basics. Interest, after all, is the best teacher.

Finally, Lu Yao pointed to Cheng Ye, who was seated behind the counter. “That’s the net manager. If you need anything, just ask him.”

While Lu Yao taught the black swallow how to use the computer, the sparrows quietly perched on the backs of chairs, watching intently. Even without using a computer themselves, they had already absorbed most of the knowledge.

Once left alone, the black swallow didn’t move right away. He glanced sideways, observing Ji Zhixin at the next seat.

After watching for a while, he managed to find the same game on the webpage and began playing.

About half an hour later, the black swallow was fully immersed, no longer paying attention to the others, his focus entirely on the game in front of him. Watching the decaying creatures approach his “home,” he couldn’t help but think of the pesky sparrows, which only made his turret placement movements faster and more fluid.

Ji Zhixin carefully glanced over using his peripheral vision. Not bad, he’s learning quickly.

Next to him, Zhou Su switched to a different game. On her screen, a white-bearded old man tossed ropes to dig up buried gold mines, scoring points for each piece successfully pulled to the surface.

The sparrows perched around her watched intently, their beady eyes glued to the screen. Each time Zhou Su’s rope missed, they hopped in agitation, as if itching to take over.

…

Eventually, Ji Zhixin got bored of Plants vs. Zombies and opened Bubble Bobble. Feeling it was dull to play alone, he called Zhou Su over. Together, they controlled two characters on a single map.

With Zhou Su’s computer free, the sparrows sneaked over, cautiously hopping down onto the desk. Their claws tapped at the keyboard and mouse, attempting to start a new game.

The black swallow boy didn’t stay long. After about two hours, he left the café.

Having completed their task, the two undercover support staff finally exited as well.

Once outside, Zhou Su exhaled deeply. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, did you see the black swallow transform?”

Ji Zhixin shook his head.

He was slightly more composed than Zhou Su—but only outwardly. No one knew that when the black swallow transformed behind him, he almost crushed the mouse in his grip to stop himself from turning around.

Lu Yao stepped out of the store and saw the two of them still looking shaken. Smiling, she said, “You’re too tense. It’s fine to take a look or even try to start a conversation.”

Zhou Su shook her head vigorously. “Talk to him? No way. That’s a swallow spirit!”

Then, looking a bit regretful, she added, “We sat together for so long, and I didn’t even dare look at him properly.”

Ji Zhixin said, “I glanced at him—he looks quite young. Hard to believe he’s already two hundred years old.”

Lu Yao chuckled. “Cheng Ye recorded the black swallow’s transformation. It’s in the group chat. You can scroll back and take a look—he’s actually quite handsome.”

!!!

Ji Zhixin and Zhou Su stopped chatting and immediately pulled out their phones to open the group chat.

The message thread popped up.

[Childhood Tutoring Center Bai Yi]: “Support Group Three requests to be dispatched!”

[Interdimensional Cinema, Gesi]: “Support Group Two requests to be dispatched!”

[Hot Spring Inn Bai Lu]: “Support Group Four requests to be dispatched!”

[Blind Box Shop Lilly]: “Why isn’t Uncle Ming volunteering? You’re the hope of the blind box shop!”

[Blind Box Shop Ji Feiming]: “…”

…

The chat had already accumulated thousands of messages. Ji Zhixin and Zhou Su scrolled for ages before finding Cheng Ye’s video.

It was a short clip, only about two seconds. The large black swallow perched on the back of Ji Zhixin’s chair suddenly transformed into a handsome young boy standing beside Lu Yao.

The staff immediately flooded the comments.

[Interdimensional Cinema Die Qi]: “Holy crap! It’s really a spirit!!!”

[Snack Shop Ning Yun]: “The little swallow spirit is actually pretty cute.”

[Childhood Tutoring Center Bai Yi]: “The boss was so calm, even remembered to promote the free coupons. [Facepalm.JPG]”

The video clearly showed the two undercover employees frozen stiff, too scared to move, while the boss faced the boy spirit calmly, conversing with him as if it were business as usual.

[Snack Shop Bai Ming]: “The boss is always like that. She’s never afraid, even when she meets us.”

[Little Pet Cafe Jiu Hua]: “@Snack Shop Bai Ming, I’ve always wondered—where exactly is your snack shop? Are you guys not human either?”

[Snack Shop Xingzi]: “Little Jiu Hua, it’s better not to ask too many questions.”

…

The conversation spiraled from the swallow spirit into hundreds of unrelated messages.

Cheng Ye, with nothing better to do, even shared details about the two-hundred-year grudge between the swallow spirit and the sparrow spirits.

[Nail Salon Ambrose]: “If the swallow spirit didn’t seek revenge, this wouldn’t be happening now.”

[Nail Salon Edward]: “Two hundred years ago, it just lost its home. Two hundred years later, it might lose everything.”

[Nail Salon Eugenia]: “Don’t… don’t make it sound like the new shop is a shady one…”

[Hot Spring Inn Heici]: “Shady… shady shop? What’s that?”

[Childhood Tutoring Center Bai Yi]: “!!! Heici, darling, you’re sending messages now?!”

[Hot Spring Inn Bai Lu]: “Sister Bai Yi, stay calm, stay calm!”

…

Finally, Ji Zhixin and Zhou Su caught up to the current conversation. Every shop’s support group was eager to “help” at the internet café.

Inside the café, the sparrow spirits were pestering Lu Yao.

They wanted to play games.

Lu Yao had Cheng Ye set up a computer for them at the station closest to the counter.

Sitting down, she asked, “What do you want to play?”

The sparrows wanted to play everything, but since they hadn’t yet taken human form, controlling any game was an ordeal.

They tried working together—two sparrows managed the mouse while the rest hopped on the keyboard.

Unfortunately, their lack of coordination was a problem. One would press too lightly, another would skip over keys entirely.

Despite the poor gaming experience, they refused to give up.

Lu Yao sat beside them, amused by the spectacle. “Little sparrows, work hard to transform!”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Lu Yao measured the interior space of the internet cafe, sketched out a renovation blueprint, and then wove together magical formations to achieve the desired aesthetic.

Countless magic arrays interconnected to form a matrix, and with a single activation, the interior was instantly transformed.

As long as the preparation was thorough, the results were no less impressive than those achieved by system-driven maintenance.

By that afternoon, the soft furnishings of the shop were completed.

Lu Yao drew inspiration from internet cafe of over a decade ago. Upon entering, customers would first see the counter and the area for the attendants. Guests needed to register at the counter to activate a machine.

In the main hall, ten computers were neatly arranged—five on each side.

Along the walls, there were two private rooms, each equipped with one computer. These rooms had glass soundproofing and curtains on three sides, offering a high level of privacy.

Of the 15 computers purchased, 12 were used in the main hall and private rooms, leaving three for backend management in Cheng Ye’s workspace.

A restroom was located to the left of the exit from the private rooms.

The overall interior design of the internet cafe was simple and efficient.

That afternoon, Cheng Ye started installing the computers.

The Interdimensional internet cafe required a connection to the shopping street’s network, but the entire world couldn’t be freely exposed to the Floating World Continent, necessitating a firewall.

Lu Yao integrated the internet cafe into the shopping street’s intranet, leveraging Budu and the Dreamland Tech Team for monitoring. She tasked Cheng Ye with setting up an additional firewall under this dual-layer protection.

The space wasn’t large, so Cheng Ye finished setting up all the equipment by 10 p.m.

Since he didn’t have a place to stay yet, he temporarily slept in the staff office, which included a rest area with beds. This space was often used by the cinema post-production team when their workload was heavy.

Cheng Ye would stay here for a few days until his permanent position was confirmed, after which Lu Yao planned to expand the rest area in the internet cafe.

…

The next day, Cheng Ye stayed at the café to fine-tune the computers, while Lu Yao took Harold to BuXian Town for errands.

With the grand opening of the internet cafe approaching, Lu Yao knew that for residents of the Floating World Continent, this concept would be entirely novel. Marketing was essential.

Given the shop’s remote location, Lu Yao suspected that its main clientele might not even be humans.

Worried about leaving Cheng Ye alone at the café, she had Budu watch over him.

When Cheng Ye saw the silver-haired, red-eyed childlike figure, he mistook him for a local demon.

Lu Yao and Harold both laughed but didn’t offer any explanation.

…

BuXian Town was a small, remote settlement. Due to the presence of Hengze Sect, the town had a rudimentary teleportation array.

By paying with spirit stones, one could use the array to travel to other locations. The town also sold teleportation scrolls, which transported the user to a fixed location.

Lu Yao, lacking spirit stones, couldn’t afford either the materials to construct her own teleportation array or the scrolls sold in town.

She considered bartering unique items from other worlds for spirit stones but quickly realized the town’s poverty rendered such trades unprofitable—and risked earning her the label of “con artist.”

The Alexander Continent had similar teleportation arrays and magical scrolls, which gave Lu Yao an idea: Why not replicate the teleportation setup from BuXian Town? She could install a magic teleportation array outside the internet cafe and even craft scrolls modeled after the town’s products.

The method wasn’t exactly upright, but it was certainly efficient.

By doing so, she wouldn’t need to struggle for spirit stones while still achieving her goal.

After all, the café’s location was outrageously remote. Without a teleportation array, who would bother coming?

Attracting the first adventurous customers always required some creative marketing tactics.

Lu Yao and Harold altered their appearances with magic before heading out, dressing as cultivators to blend in and avoid unnecessary trouble.

With clear objectives in mind, they explored Buxian Town, examined the general mechanics of teleportation arrays and scrolls, and even listened to some local gossip before heading back.

Once at the internet cafe, Harold started constructing the teleportation array outside the entrance, while Lu Yao worked behind the counter on creating teleportation scrolls.

The cage holding the sparrow spirits was placed atop the counter. Despite their initial defiance, the sparrows, realizing they couldn’t escape or outwit Lu Yao, had calmed significantly.

Now, they lined up on the perch, tilting their heads as they watched Lu Yao work, occasionally chirping softly.

“She’s making a teleportation array?”
“How’s that possible? She doesn’t even have any cultivation!”
“So strange!”

Lu Yao first crafted a batch of scrolls for fixed teleportation to the internet cafe, then began working on another promotional item—free three-day internet coupons for the café’s grand opening.

The sparrows, with their bright, curious eyes, couldn’t comprehend what she was doing.

At noon, Lu Yao and Cheng Ye had lunch in the staff office, joined by the three members of the post-production team. They were eager to hear about the progress at the internet cafe and possibly catch some tales from the cultivation world.

Lu Yao asked Cheng Ye, “Are the machines all set up?”
Cheng Ye nodded, “Yeah, everything you asked for was pretty straightforward. There’s not much left to do this afternoon.”

Lu Yao leaned closer, lowering her voice to assign a new task. Cheng Ye, along with the post-production team, looked puzzled, unable to decipher her intent.

Turning to the trio, Lu Yao suggested, “Why don’t you pose as customers later, play a few games, and then head back?”

Gesi was visibly excited. “Can we?”
Lu Yao nodded. “Sure, just make it look real. I’ll take you there.”

…

After lunch, Cheng Ye returned to the internet cafe alone. Following Lu Yao’s instructions, he hung the sparrow cage on a five-tier shelf behind the counter.

The counter setup also included a small freezer, ready to stock instant noodles, sausages, chewing gum, and bottled water—perfect for the retro vibe the café was aiming for.

Cheng Ye sat at one of the main computers at the counter, booted it up, and navigated to the 6399 Games interface, selecting a single-player game called Bomberman.

The gameplay was simple: players controlled a character using a keyboard and mouse to strategically place bombs on the map while finding safe spots to hide. Bomb explosions could sometimes drop items like boots, potions, or power-ups.

These items could enhance the player’s abilities:

• Boots increased speed.
• Potions amplified bomb power.

After clearing a map, players advanced to increasingly difficult levels.

For Cheng Ye, who hadn’t touched such games in years, Bomberman brought back nostalgic childhood memories. Despite its simplicity, the game wasn’t as dull as he’d expected.

In the cage, the sparrows huddled together, their bright eyes fixed on Cheng Ye’s screen.
“What is he doing?”
“Why are the little things in the box moving?”

…

After about half an hour, Lu Yao arrived with the post-production trio.

At the entrance, she called out, “Hey, net admin, three machines, please!”

Cheng Ye stood up casually, replying, “Ten mid-grade spirit stones per hour.”

The trio rummaged through their bags, pulling out handfuls of colorful “spirit stones,” received their assigned numbers, and headed to their seats.

Meanwhile, Lu Yao moved the sparrow cage to the opposite wall, ensuring a clear view of the customers’ screens.

Gesi logged into the 6399 Games interface, selecting a nostalgic favorite from his childhood—Contra. His pixelated character armed with a rifle ventured boldly into the game’s levels.

Next to him, Gao Meng, who hadn’t played on a computer in ages, spotted a familiar icon among the game selections. Without hesitation, he clicked on it.

The screen displayed a classic character in blue overalls and a red hat—Mario. Gao Meng clumsily guided the iconic figure through levels of adventure and peril, rediscovering the simple joys of his younger years.

Liu Tang sat next to Gao Meng, engrossed in a puzzle-based tower defense game. He placed pea shooters in front of his house to fend off wave after wave of invading zombies.

The three deliberately didn’t wear headphones and turned up the volume to the max, letting the sound echo throughout the room.

In their cage, the sparrow spirits craned their necks, desperately trying to get a clearer view of what was happening on the glowing screens.

Cheng Ye, seated behind the counter, watched this scene unfold and suddenly understood the owner’s intention.

Even though the sparrow spirits hadn’t fully transformed, they had developed intelligence, and their natural curiosity drew them toward the novel sights and sounds.

Now, they crowded together in the cage, their feathers poking through the bars, looking both amusing and pitiful.

The post-production team left before their time was up, leaving their game screens running.

Lu Yao walked over, took the middle seat, and continued playing one of the games.

The sparrow spirits immediately erupted into chatter, chirping noisily.

They had tried calling out to the earlier players, attempting to get their attention, but the humans had ignored them entirely.

Just as the sparrows were on the verge of despair, Lu Yao stood up, took down the cage, and placed it in front of the computer.

“Want to play this?”

The sparrow spirits, still naive to the phrase “the wickedness of human nature,” thought Lu Yao was being genuine and nodded enthusiastically.

Lu Yao raised an eyebrow. “You need to pay with spirit stones to use the computers. Do you have any?”

The sparrow spirits froze. They had indeed seen the earlier players hand over spirit stones to the attendant.

Being mere wild sparrows from the mountains, they fought over scraps of spirit-infused cake, let alone having anything like spirit stones.

“You didn’t think you could freeload in my café, did you?” Lu Yao asked, her tone light but pointed.

The sparrow spirits shook their heads furiously.

Lu Yao tilted her head. “So, what will you do?”

The sparrow spirits looked troubled. They wanted to freeload but couldn’t fight their way out of the situation.

Lu Yao pulled out a stack of pre-prepared magical scrolls and free trial coupons. “I have a proposal.”

The sparrow spirits’ beady eyes all turned to her, sparkling with hope. Was this woman finally growing a conscience?

Lu Yao tapped her fingers on the table. “Take these scrolls and coupons, find some people, and bring me one customer. For each customer you bring, I’ll let you play for an hour.”

Cheng Ye watched as the sparrow spirits were released from their cage. They struggled to carry the scrolls in their tiny beaks but eventually managed and flew out the door. He almost couldn’t hold back from applauding the boss.

Such skill.

At the door, Lu Yao waved after the departing sparrows. “Remember, the café officially opens the day after tomorrow. Don’t mess up the timing.”

Cheng Ye muttered to himself, “Good luck, sparrows. You’re going to need it.”

…

With most of the preparation done, Lu Yao had time to sift through the resumes.

Aside from Ji Qingyan, other staff members had also recommended candidates, and their resumes had been forwarded to her inbox.

Cheng Ye’s skills were solid, but his health remained a concern. Working in the café wouldn’t be easy, with night shifts and other demands.

Lu Yao planned to hire two more people to distribute the workload and was specifically looking for candidates with diverse skill sets.

She selected the most suitable resumes and had the recommenders notify the candidates to come to the shop for interviews.

Having reflected on Bai Lu’s earlier hiring process, Lu Yao realized the previous recruitment methods had flaws, potentially causing her to miss out on ideal employees.

For the new café, she decided to hold interviews directly on-site at the shopping street, opting for a more transparent and mutual selection process.

If a candidate was a good fit, they’d stay. If not, the confidentiality agreement would still apply.

This approach might present issues in the future, but Lu Yao was prepared to adapt as necessary.

The newly implemented internal network system had significantly streamlined operations, offering Lu Yao a valuable new tool.

After narrowing her choices, she sent out interview invitations to two candidates.

The next day, Lu Yao’s Interdimensional Internet Cafe officially opened for business.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ji Qingyan’s fingers flew across the keyboard as she carefully composed the message and hit send.

It had been a year since she and Cheng Ye broke up. They hadn’t deleted each other’s contact information, but neither had they reached out. She’d vaguely heard from someone that he had quit his job and returned to his hometown, but she didn’t know what his life was like now.

Maybe he had already settled down—married, found a stable and leisurely job, and was living the simple, peaceful life he had once dreamed of.

When Lu Yao mentioned wanting skilled system admins, the first person Ji Qingyan thought of was Cheng Ye.

As Bai Lu had said, once a thought takes root, not acting on it can lead to endless preoccupation, distracting you from work.

After sending the message, Ji Qingyan exhaled deeply.

Whether or not Cheng Ye accepted the opportunity, she had done her part, and there was no reason to dwell on it anymore.

…

In Kaiyang City, at the General Hospital, Cheng Ye sat on a cold, dimly lit bench in the corridor, gripping a medical report in his hand.

The hallway buzzed with hurried footsteps and bustling voices, but Cheng Ye felt as though the world had fallen silent. His body was cold.

On the diagnosis line of the report, the words “Liver cancer, advanced stage” loomed like a death sentence.

Suddenly, his phone screen lit up with a new message.

He glanced at the sender’s name, hesitated, and eventually opened the chat.

[She]: Cheng Ye, it’s Ji Qingyan. Are you busy? There’s a good job opportunity I think you might like—relatively laid-back, decent pay, and I think it’d suit you. Want to come for an interview? It’s in Yaoguang City, and I’m here too.

Cheng Ye stared at the message in silence, then moved to delete it.

His thumb hovered over the red “Delete” option. After a long sigh, he went back to the chat and reluctantly typed out a reply:

[Cheng Ye]: What job?

[Ji Qingyan]: System admin.

Cheng Ye: “…”

Several more messages followed in quick succession. They were long-winded and seemed to be her attempt at convincing him that being a system admin was genuinely a good job.

Cheng Ye skimmed through the texts, barely registering their content, and then typed a simple reply:

[Cheng Ye]: Alright, I’ll come and take a look.

[Ji Qingyan]: Really?

[Cheng Ye]: Mm. Let’s grab a meal while I’m there.

[Ji Qingyan]: Sure! When are you coming? Hurry up—I’ll let them know in advance so you don’t miss out.

She was seriously eager for him to take this job.

[Cheng Ye]: …Alright, I’ll get a ticket for tomorrow.

[Ji Qingyan]: Great! Let me know the time, and I’ll pick you up from the airport.

Cheng Ye stared at her final message, his mouth filled with a bitter taste.

Forget it.

Even if it was just a moment of weakness, he still wanted to see her again.

Just once. Then he’d come back.

With that thought, Cheng Ye stood up. A spark of energy returned to his limbs as he strode towards the elevator.

…

After finalizing things with Cheng Ye, Ji Qingyan immediately contacted Lu Yao.

She gave a brief summary of Cheng Ye’s qualifications, emphasizing that he was more than capable of handling the role of system admin.

The only potential issue was Cheng Ye’s personality—he wasn’t great at dealing with people.

However, the Shopping Street was unlike a typical workplace. Despite the diverse and numerous staff, there weren’t any strange office politics, and colleagues were generally easygoing.

Ji Qingyan sincerely believed this environment would suit Cheng Ye, even if their encounter might be a little awkward.

…

The Next Day: Airport

Cheng Ye walked out of the terminal and paused when he spotted Ji Qingyan waving from afar.

It had been a year since they last saw each other, and she seemed to have changed a lot.

Ji Qingyan approached him quickly and noticed he was empty-handed. “You didn’t bring any luggage?”

Cheng Ye glanced down. “No.”

She led him toward the parking lot and turned to look at him again. “Didn’t sleep well? You look pale.”

Cheng Ye: “A little.”

After they got in the car, Ji Qingyan reminded Cheng Ye to fasten his seatbelt and drove straight toward Shopping Street.

As he watched the scenery zip past and the road become increasingly remote, Cheng Ye finally said, “I haven’t had breakfast.”

Ji Qingyan smiled. “Me neither. When we get to the shop, there’ll be plenty of good food.”

Cheng Ye hesitated. “Where are we going?”

“Shopping Street, where I work. You’ll have your interview there.”

Cheng Ye frowned slightly. “You seriously want me to be a system admin?”

“Of course. Why else would I bring you here?”

Cheng Ye fell silent. Ji Qingyan continued, “I’ve already arranged everything with the shop owner. You’re the first candidate, so your chances of getting the job are high.”

Gripping and releasing his seatbelt repeatedly, Cheng Ye felt an urge to tell Ji Qingyan the truth about his condition but couldn’t bring himself to say it.

What would be the point of telling her? Their relationship had ended long ago.

She was genuinely trying to help him with this job, without any ulterior motives.

Cheng Ye suppressed his swirling emotions and quietly acquiesced.

Ji Qingyan had gone to the trouble of arranging this interview; he couldn’t turn it down now. He decided he’d take a look and find a way to politely decline afterward.

When her phone buzzed with a notification, Ji Qingyan turned to Cheng Ye. “You have a new message too. Download the app and sign the confidentiality agreement before we get there.”

Cheng Ye opened his phone to find the pop-up notification.

Ji Qingyan added, “I wrote the app myself. Just go in and sign the agreement.”

Hearing this, Cheng Ye’s lingering doubts eased. He downloaded the app and, without reading too carefully, clicked “Agree” all the way through.

…

Shopping Street

When they arrived, Cheng Ye glanced at Ji Qingyan. “You work here now?”

She nodded. “Yes. Let’s eat first, then I’ll take you to meet the shop owner.”

Shopping Street was a run-down road far from the city center, clearly devoid of bustling business activity, yet it was lined with shops on both sides.

Cheng Ye noticed an internet café further down the street, and his expression turned increasingly complex.

He had thought Ji Qingyan might take him to a snack shop or the noodle place nearby, so he moved toward the steps.

But Ji Qingyan stopped him. “Not the noodle shop. On Shopping Street, no one except the shop owner is allowed to enter the eateries. We’re going to the hot spring inn.”

Before entering the inn, Ji Qingyan gave Cheng Ye a heads-up. “I work here. The shops on Shopping Street all have some… unusual aspects. Don’t be too surprised.”

Cheng Ye thought to himself: No matter how unusual, nothing could surprise me anymore.

Then he stepped into the Hot Spring Inn.

On the windowsills, rooftops, elevators, pathways, and transparent tunnels, tiny ten-centimeter-tall people bustled about.

Cheng Ye rubbed his eyes, looked again, and locked eyes with one of the little people walking through a transparent passageway.

The tiny figure nodded at him and walked away leisurely.

Cheng Ye looked down at Ji Qingyan.

“It’s not an illusion,” she said. “You’ll get used to it.”

She briefly explained the Hot Spring Inn’s peculiarities and added, “The shop where you’ll interview is even more unique.”

Standing in the hallway, Cheng Ye stared blankly at the miniature structures around him, unsure if he had heard her explanation.

After a while, he seemed to regain his composure, sat down to eat, and asked, “The shop where I’m supposed to interview… what’s its situation?”

Ji Qingyan, sitting beside him, smiled. “Oh, you heard me. I haven’t been there yet either. But the shop owner said it’s set in the cultivation world.”

Cheng Ye, who had just picked up his chopsticks, slowly put them back down. His thoughts churned. “Cultivation world?”

Ji Qingyan couldn’t help laughing. “Yes, the cultivation world. The shop owner plans to open an internet café there and needs skilled system admins.”

Cultivation world.

Cheng Ye thought it was absurd at first.

But as he looked around at his surroundings, he realized he couldn’t laugh.

If it really was the cultivation world… maybe there was hope for his illness.

He had, after all, read cultivation novels before. These days, whenever he had free time, he gravitated toward fantastical stories on reading apps.

The more fantastical and far removed from reality, the more he loved them.

“Alright, let’s eat first, then head to the interview,” Cheng Ye said, picking up his chopsticks and starting to eat.

He hadn’t been very hungry earlier, but whether it was the delicious food at the Hot Spring Inn or his changing mood, he found himself truly enjoying the meal.

After eating, Ji Qingyan brought Cheng Ye to the Interdimensional Internet Café to meet Lu Yao.

A small truck was parked at the entrance, and two delivery workers were unloading the latest equipment.

Fifteen state-of-the-art devices, still in their boxes, were neatly placed under the awning but hadn’t been moved inside yet.

Ji Qingyan and Cheng Ye entered the café to find Lu Yao scolding a group of sparrow spirits in the corner.

The fine black net from before had turned into a birdcage, trapping over a dozen sparrows inside. They chirped noisily until Lu Yao grabbed one of them.

“Two hundred years of cultivation, and you haven’t even managed to take human form? It must be because you’re so despicable.”

“When will I let you go? When I’m in a good mood.”

“You’re too noisy. Keep it up, and I’ll clip your tongues.”

Her tone was soft and calm, with no apparent malice, but the sparrows in the cage immediately fell silent. Even the one in her hand stopped struggling and became obedient.

Ji Qingyan glanced at Cheng Ye and walked over first. “Boss, I brought him.”

Lu Yao turned her head. “Good. Just a moment.”

Inside the cage, the sparrow spirits stared at Ji Qingyan and Cheng Ye with their shiny, beady eyes, as if evaluating who might be easier to bully.

Lu Yao put the sparrow back into the cage and stood up. “Let’s talk outside.”

…

Outside the Internet Café

Ji Qingyan asked, “Boss, were you just talking to those sparrows?”

Lu Yao nodded. “Those were the sparrow spirits that pecked at me yesterday. Don’t underestimate them—they haven’t taken human form yet, but they’re a handful. Just now, those beady eyes were assessing which of you two would be easier to push around.”

Ji Qingyan & Cheng Ye: “…”

Lu Yao brought Cheng Ye across the street to the employee office for the interview, leaving Ji Qingyan free to post in the work group chat.

Employee Group Chat

Hot Spring Inn Ji Qingyan: “The new shop has a whole cage of sparrow spirits! Just saw the boss scolding them—it’s hilarious!”

Nail Salon Harold: “The same bunch from yesterday? They flew over to try bullying Lu Yao.”

Nail Salon Merulu: “Bullying Lu Yao? Who dares bully Lu Yao?”

Nail Salon Puxiu: “Was Lu Yao hurt?”

Nail Salon Mumu: “Did Lu Yao get scared?”

Little Pet Cafe Jiuhua: [Shocked.JPG] “Mumu can type?!”

Little Pet Cafe Leilei: “Crying? Even Leopard can type, you know.”

Childhood Tutoring Center Hu Jiao: “You’re all going to make me laugh to death!”

Nail Salon Harold: “They’re all locked up in the shop now. Those guys messing with Lu Yao? Definitely won’t end well for them.”

Snack Shop Xingzi: “Don’t talk about Lu Yao like that.”

Snack Shop Xiao Qie: “Lu Yao would feel sad if she saw this.”

Nail Salon Harold: “…I was complimenting her!!!”

…

Employee Office

The cinema post-production trio kept sneaking glances at their phones, watching the group chat flood with messages. Every single one struck a chord, stirring their desire to jump in.

Oh, how they wanted to join in!

But with the boss conducting an interview outside, they didn’t dare touch their phones.

…

Half an hour later, Lu Yao and Cheng Ye had nearly wrapped up their conversation.

Lu Yao seemed quite satisfied, but Cheng Ye looked hesitant.

Lu Yao: “Is there something else on your mind?”

Cheng Ye slowly clenched his hands, resting them on his knees. “There is. Before coming to Yaoguang City, I had a medical checkup.”

Lu Yao frowned. “Are you unwell?”

Cheng Ye laid everything on the table, confessing his diagnosis.

Lu Yao shifted in her chair, leaning back against the rest. “Does Qingyan know about this?”

Cheng Ye shook his head. “She doesn’t.”

Lu Yao crossed her arms. “As a rule, I generally don’t encourage people with health issues to work in the shop.”

Cheng Ye’s motivations were clear to Lu Yao. He wasn’t the first person to approach the shopping street with ulterior motives.

His honesty during the interview, however, earned her respect.

Cheng Ye: “At first, I agreed to come because I wanted to see her one last time. I didn’t expect her to genuinely believe in this opportunity. I owe you an apology. But now, I’m truly drawn to this job.”

Lu Yao tapped her fingers lightly on the armrest, starting to understand Ji Qingyan’s intentions. “She really means well,” she thought. Cheng Ye, it seemed, wasn’t overly cunning or calculative.

Lu Yao: “If you are truly capable, I can make an exception.”

From employees like Ji Zhixin, to Fu Chi, and Zheng Ziyang, many who came to the shopping street had their own motivations.

As long as their work was up to par, Lu Yao didn’t mind helping out within reason.

It was simply a matter of mutual benefit—a concept she was perfectly comfortable with.

Cheng Ye raised his head, his disbelief evident.

Lu Yao: “If you’re willing, let’s start with a seven-day trial contract. After seven days, we’ll decide if it’s a mutual fit. This is standard for all new employees here.”

Cheng Ye didn’t hesitate to sign the trial contract.

Lu Yao chose not to tell Ji Qingyan about Cheng Ye’s condition.

Later that afternoon, she decided to test some magic-based renovations for the new shop. The results far exceeded her expectations.

Satisfied with the progress, she assigned Cheng Ye the task of setting up the computers, preparing for the grand opening scheduled for three days later.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

The Floating World Continent, Buxian Mountain.

Hengze Sect was a declining minor sect situated on Buxian Mountain. Its total disciples barely reached a hundred.

At dawn, the sect master’s direct disciple, Jiang Yan, set out with a young medicine attendant.

Jiang Yan was a pill cultivator.

Given the sect’s poverty, he often climbed the mountain to gather herbs and, in his spare time, refined basic, urgently-needed pills to sell in the nearby town of Buxian.

Buxian Mountain had two sides: one bathed in sunlight and the other shadowed.

Hengze Sect’s headquarters was on the sunlit side, while Jiang Yan ventured to the shadowed side to gather herbs.

He climbed the mountain with the medicine attendant several times a month, knowing every path and herb-rich spot by heart.

This morning, with several herbs urgently needed, Jiang Yan rose early, intending to gather two baskets of herbs and return to the sect to refine pills by noon.

Jiang Yan and the medicine attendant crouched by a marsh, harvesting floating mane, when the chattering calls of sparrows suddenly reached their ears.

Not far away, a figure darted out of the wild grass, pursued and pecked by a flock of tiny, unshaped sparrow spirits.

The medicine attendant peeked curiously. “Probably someone who strayed into the mountain and got bullied by the sparrow spirits.”

Hengze Sect’s decline was evident—even the area near the sect’s gates housed various bird and beast spirits.

Fortunately, Buxian Mountain’s sparse spiritual energy couldn’t nurture world-threatening demons. Most were small spirits incapable of even assuming human form, something Jiang Yan and the medicine attendant had grown accustomed to.

Jiang Yan frowned, watching for a moment before setting down the floating mane and running over. From his storage pouch, he pulled out a special pastry, crumbled it, and scattered it on the ground.

The sparrow spirits, attracted by the spiritual energy, turned away and flocked to the crumbs in the grass.

The pastry Jiang Yan tossed wasn’t ordinary—it was a custom-made treat infused with spiritual herbs.

The sparrows, unfamiliar with such things, scrambled for even the slightest hint of spiritual energy.

As a pill cultivator who wasn’t skilled in combat but frequently needed to enter the mountains, Jiang Yan had specifically prepared these pastries to distract small spirits—a tactic that never failed.

Turning to the person still crouched on the ground, Jiang Yan gently reassured, “The sparrow spirits are gone now. You’re safe.”

When the figure stood up, Jiang Yan was momentarily taken aback.

He had assumed it was a man but realized upon seeing her face that it was a young woman.

Her shoulder-length hair was loose, her clothing thin and strange, and her left ear adorned with a golden lotus-shaped earring. She didn’t look like a cultivator.

..

Lu Yao raised her gaze to the boy in a light blue robe. He looked around seventeen or eighteen, his long hair tied into a bun with a jade hairpin, his features delicate.

Suppressing her scattered thoughts, she introduced herself. “I am Lu Yao, a mere woman who accidentally strayed into the mountain. Thank you, young master, for your rescue.”

Lu Yao had entered the new shop with Budu, but upon stepping through the Stargate, only she emerged.

Budu was unable to cross into this world and had been left in the shop.

Deciding to explore the area on her own, Lu Yao quickly discovered the shop’s location was far from ideal.

Looking back, she saw that the overly flamboyant and luxurious storefront she had carefully designed was almost entirely hidden inside a hollow tree.

The shop’s location was utterly bizarre—seemingly in some unknown, remote mountain forest. The shop itself was nestled within a massive, dead tree.

The ancient tree was so thick it would take ten people to encircle it.

Its roots had rotted, leaving a triangular door opening at the base. Above it hung a sign that read, Lu Yao’s Interdimensional Internet Café, creating an eerie contrast.

The shop was in a remote area, with no signs of human activity nearby.

Shortly after stepping out, Lu Yao was swarmed by a group of strange little sparrows, which relentlessly pecked at her.

She had initially planned to feign weakness and catch one to listen to its heartbeat.

But before she could act, the boy in front of her had already come to her rescue.

…

Jiang Yan stared at Lu Yao for a moment, confirming that she had no cultivation whatsoever, and relaxed. “Jiang Yan of Hengze Sect. It was a trivial matter—no need to thank me.”

From that single sentence, Lu Yao was certain this world was indeed the cultivation realm she had suspected.

The medicine attendant ran over and, seeing Lu Yao, was curious about her attire.

However, in the cultivation world, wearing eccentric clothes to showcase one’s individuality wasn’t uncommon. After a brief glance, the attendant said nothing.

Before Lu Yao could even ask, Jiang Yan took the initiative. He explained that after gathering their herbs, they would escort her down the mountain to Buxian Town at its base.

They were so considerate that Lu Yao repeatedly expressed her gratitude, even pulling out a handful of candies from her pocket to offer them.

With someone guiding her down the mountain, she didn’t have to bother finding her own way, so she decided to take the opportunity to better understand her surroundings.

Returning wouldn’t be an issue either—she carried the Space-Time Key and her Dragon Scale Hairpin. She could always call Harold to pick her up when needed.

Since he had someone with him, Jiang Yan decided not to linger in the mountains for too long. After collecting a few urgently needed herbs, he prepared to escort Lu Yao down the mountain.

The young medicine attendant initially found Lu Yao strange and didn’t want to talk to her. But after receiving the handful of candies, he began addressing her as “big sister” in a sweet, affectionate tone.

Lu Yao often carried various snacks, as the child in her family was fond of them—chocolates, fruit candies, milk toffees, beef jerky. A single handful was enough to win over the young attendant completely.

On the way down, Lu Yao chatted with the medicine attendant and learned that this was Buxian Mountain, with Hengze Sect’s headquarters located halfway up. At the base of the mountain was a small town called Buxian Town.

Buxian Town was home to both ordinary people and cultivators. However, due to the thin spiritual energy of Buxian Mountain, it didn’t attract many cultivators.

At the foot of the mountain, Lu Yao bid farewell to Jiang Yan and the medicine attendant and headed toward Buxian Town on her own.

The young medicine attendant gazed after her, licking his lips. “The candy this big sister gave me is unlike anything I’ve ever tasted elsewhere.”

Jiang Yan also had a handful of the candies in his herb basket, but he hadn’t tried them yet. Privately, he doubted they could be all that special.

The young attendant had spent his whole life at Hengze Sect, with the farthest he’d traveled being Buxian Town, so he hadn’t experienced much in the way of delicacies.

Jiang Yan, though not a frequent traveler himself, had gone on two trips with his senior brothers and sisters and had sampled a variety of fine foods in the outside world.

…

Buxian Town was a modest and unassuming place.

The majority of its residents were ordinary people without cultivation. Lu Yao spotted only a few stalls selling pills, weapons, or talismans, all casually set up by the roadside, with hardly any business.

She approached a few stalls to ask about prices. Whether the prices were high or low didn’t matter—everything in town required spirit stones for payment.

Having no spirit stones, Lu Yao didn’t buy anything.

After wandering around, she decided to head back the way she came. When she reached a secluded spot halfway up the mountain, she sensed someone following her.

The cultivation world was far from peaceful, and Lu Yao didn’t dare to let her guard down. She touched the Dragon Scale Hairpin she carried and pulled out the Space-Time Key.

A door appeared out of thin air, and through it stepped a high ponytailed boy clad in black robes, a lollipop in his mouth. “I was in the middle of a class.”

He sounded thoroughly annoyed.

Lu Yao: “Eating candy in class?”

Harold bit through the hard candy, crushed the plastic stick into powder, and scattered it with a flick. He glanced around. “Where is this?”

Lu Yao: “Near the new shop’s location. I just went out and seemed to have been followed.”

Harold turned his head. “There are indeed a few people nearby. Want me to bring them back?”

Seeing him appear, the followers immediately retreated.

Lu Yao: “Can you sense anything unusual about them?”

Harold frowned. “Nothing at all. They’re just a few greedy, useless humans.”

Lu Yao: “…Never mind, let’s head back for now.”

…

High up in the trees, a group of sparrow spirits perched on branches.

“That woman came back.”

“And she brought a boy with her.”

“Ha! Her running away this morning was hilarious!”

“She dares to come back? Let’s teach her another lesson!”

From her earlier conversation with the medicine attendant, Lu Yao knew the ones who had chased her in the morning were these sparrow spirits.

As the flock of little sparrows descended toward her again, Lu Yao casually remarked, “Catch them and roast them.”

The sparrows chirped noisily, as if mocking her.

The next moment, a black net dropped down, capturing all the little sparrow spirits in one swoop.

Lu Yao swung the net around twice. “Grilled sparrows for dinner, with drinks.”

Harold wrinkled his nose. “They’re so small. One bite each isn’t even enough to fill a tooth gap. What’s the point?”

The sparrows: “……”

When Harold caught sight of the massive, gnarled, and dead old tree with its signboard, his steps halted. “This is the internet café? Your new shop?”

Lu Yao sighed. “Yeah.”

Harold shot her a sidelong glance. “Why do you always open shops in such weird places? Can’t you pick a bustling town for once?”

Lu Yao: “I’d love to. But it never works out. Forget it, I’ll handle things here myself. You should get back to your class.”

Muttering something like “used and discarded,” Harold reluctantly walked away.

Inside the shop, Budu was seated, staring at the net in Lu Yao’s hand. “Mother encountered trouble?”

Lu Yao casually tossed the net onto the floor and shook her head. “Just a small issue. Nothing serious.”

After trekking up and down the mountain and exploring the town, Lu Yao was feeling tired. She noticed Budu was also wilting from the heat, so she brought him back to the Hot Spring Inn for a break.

…

“Back already, boss?” Bai Lu immediately ran over when she saw Lu Yao and Budu return, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Lu Yao patted Budu and sent him to rest in his room. “Yeah, just took a quick look at the new shop.”

Ji Qingyan handed Lu Yao a glass of water. “So it’s really a cultivation world?”

Lu Yao nodded. “The Floating World Continent, to be exact. The shop is located on a mountain with thin spiritual energy. There’s a small sect on that mountain called Hengze Sect.”

Xiao Zheng placed a tray of snacks in front of Lu Yao—freshly baked croissants and cream puffs—and then silently sat down beside her.

Ji Qingyan asked, “Hengze Sect? A sect for cultivators?”

Lu Yao: “Seems like it. On the way, I was attacked by a group of sparrow spirits, and a cultivator from Hengze Sect saved me. He looked like a pill cultivator, gathering herbs on the mountain.”

!!!

The three human shop assistants stared at her, wide-eyed.

Ah, yes! This is exactly the vibe!

While munching on her snacks, Lu Yao opened her phone and scrolled through the group chat, which was rapidly filling with messages. She casually uploaded several photos she had taken in Buxian Town.

…

[Lu Yao]: This town isn’t very bustling.

[Lu Yao]: Pill Stall.JPG Talisman Stall.JPG Everything’s expensive.

[Lu Yao]: Random Sword Cultivator.JPG This guy seems to be a sword cultivator. To maintain his “wife sword,” he sold his clothes and pills.

[Interdimensional Cinema Liu Tang]: The new shop sounds amazing! PS: Sword cultivators are always broke, hahaha.

[Interdimensional Cinema Kuba]: I want to work at the new shop…

[Childhood Tutoring Center Bai Yi]: Aaaaaah! This is too exciting! I can’t handle it!

[Childhood Tutoring Center Hu Jiao]: Lu Yao, buy some talismans and pills for us, please!

[Childhood Tutoring Center 444]: I want a “wife sword” too!

[Little Pet Cafe Zhou Su]: Oh my gosh! I want to go to the new shop too!

[Little Pet Cafe Piaopiao]: Waaaahhh?

Lu Yao chuckled at the enthusiasm flooding the group chat. Her new shop was already sparking plenty of interest, even among her existing team.

The staff group chat buzzed with excitement as employees enthusiastically expressed their eagerness to work at the new shop.

Meanwhile, Lu Yao pondered how to establish the internet café in such a remote and peculiar location.

She’d encountered similar challenges before—the Hot Spring Inn being one such example. However, the situation on the Floating World Continent was far more complex.

This world was home not only to cultivators and ordinary people but also to demons, monsters, and spirits, all thriving under a power-centric hierarchy. For Lu Yao, an ordinary human, attracting customers to her café while avoiding the predatory nature of the strong would be a daunting task.

Regardless of the challenges, setting up the shop—renovating the space, acquiring computers, and hiring staff—had to start somewhere.

[Lu Yao]: I’d like to hire two skilled system admins. If you have suitable candidates, feel free to recommend them.

After sending the message to the group, Lu Yao reached out to Ji Zhixin to help with researching and purchasing equipment.

Having had a quick bite, she headed back to the café alone.

The three connected storefronts were decent but still relatively small for an internet café. Given the current state of the Floating World Continent, Lu Yao decided not to expand the interdimensional space immediately. She planned to start small, with just ten computers, and see how things went.

Though the star gate and interdimensional space had already been upgraded, without the system’s assistance, the soft furnishings of the shop were entirely her responsibility.

Sitting by the window, she pulled out a notebook and began sketching designs.

The net of sparrow spirits was still tossed into a corner. Unable to break free from Harold’s sturdy net, the sparrows chirped incessantly, trying to attract Lu Yao’s attention.

She casually cast a silence spell over the corner, finally enjoying some peace and quiet as she focused on her work.

…

At the Hot Spring Inn

Ji Qingyan sat by the window, repeatedly opening and closing her chat interface.

In the nearby reading room, small books for the tiny customers were immensely popular. Bai Lu was working on a new set of books for them. Noticing Ji Qingyan’s rare expression of hesitation, Bai Lu asked, “What’s bothering you?”

Ji Qingyan turned her head, frowning as she mulled it over. Finally, she said softly, “The boss is hiring system admins. I actually know someone who might be a good fit. He’s a programmer like me and really skilled. But our relationship is… complicated. He might not even agree to an interview. If he does, I’m worried the boss might not hire him, and I’d end up stuck in an awkward position.”

Having gone through the hiring process for the street herself, Bai Lu completely understood Ji Qingyan’s concerns.

Thinking back on her own experience, Bai Lu encouraged her, “I get why you’re hesitant. But if you genuinely think it’s a good opportunity and want to recommend it to him, there’s no harm in trying. The boss is principled about hiring and won’t make things difficult for you. Look at me—I went through a whole roundabout journey, but I still ended up here.”

Realizing her words might sound self-deprecating, Bai Lu laughed sheepishly. “Honestly, I was way braver back then. I don’t know if I’d have the courage to do that again now.”

Ji Qingyan appeared thoughtful.

After a brief pause, she made up her mind. “Alright. I’ll give it a try and reach out to him.”

Unable to resist, Bai Lu asked curiously, “If you’re willing to recommend him for a job, why is your relationship complicated?”

Ji Qingyan hesitated for a moment before replying, “Because he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Bai Lu: “……”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

“You really don’t have a bottleneck phase, do you?”

[System Prompt: The eighth shop’s interdimensional upgrade is complete, and the Stargate has been activated.]

Lu Yao opened her eyes, reaching for her phone by the pillow. It was only 6:30 AM.

It had been a week since the ultimate task of the hot spring inn concluded.

Yesterday, the proxy bot had sent a message urging her to open a new shop.

After wandering along both sides of the shopping street, Lu Yao chose three storefronts next to the Childhood Tutoring Center, combining and upgrading them into an interdimensional space and activating the Stargate.

Recently, she’d still been staying at the hot spring inn, enjoying nightly soaks in the hot springs to unwind after busy days. It was incredibly relaxing.

Sitting up, Lu Yao opened the system interface.

On the map of the shopping street, a new shop was now lit up, its signboard already bearing a name.

Lu Yao tapped the screen lightly and returned to her owner status panel.

Owner: Lu Yao
Age: 22
Shops: 9
Staff: 224
Popularity Points: 62,015,500
Assets: 14.15 million
Wish Progress: 48%
Warehouse Slots: 50

(shopping Street Map)

With the opening of the Stargate in her newest shop, the data had instantly updated.

Eight main shops and one branch—Lu Yao had already opened nine stores on this run-down street.

The number of staff in her shops had surpassed 200 and was still growing.

Lu Yao couldn’t help reminiscing about the time she arrived at this desolate street all by herself, forced by the Dream Fulfillment System to open her first shop. She used to go out to buy ingredients on her own, haggling with market vendors—it all felt like a distant memory.

After setting up and running her internal network, the tight finances eased up.

The cinema’s rate of introducing new films slowed, but the ones purchased last year were still doing well in rotation.

The hot spring inn required more manpower and energy but wasn’t a major money drain. Lu Yao’s small treasury was finally starting to see some income.

Keep it up!

The wish progress data had been an unexpected surprise.

The morning after the girls’ chat night, the Shenmu tribe and Red Pig tribe both delivered two thin, long white bones.

Three days later, the Xiaguang tribe, Luoxiong tribe, and Blackrock tribe each delivered another bone.

Lu Yao had suddenly received five white bones, and her wish progress had advanced significantly.

At the time, she’d found it odd and asked the Shenmu elder chieftain, “How did you know I wanted these bones?”

The elder chieftain looked at her strangely. “Didn’t you drop them? They’re covered in your scent.”

Lu Yao: “…What scent?”

The elder chieftain struggled to come up with a more comprehensible explanation. “It’s… similar to that new acorus under the yangju tree. When we smell it, we know it’s yours.”

Lu Yao: “…I see. Thank you very much.”

She had no idea her body had a particular scent.

Three days later, the little people from the other three tribes were even more absurd. They apologized profusely as they delivered the bones, thinking that some mischievous child in their tribe had taken something from her inn.

It took more than forty little people to carry the bones back, so it was obviously impossible for one of them to have secretly taken them.

Lu Yao quietly thought to herself that the idea of them “growing brains” might still be a long way off.

Without saying much, she accepted the bones.

…

Lu Yao exited the system interface and got up to wash up.

The hot spring inn mission had ended, and the Dream Fulfillment System hadn’t returned. She had no idea what the next shop would bring.

After getting dressed, Lu Yao left her room and knocked on Budu’s door next door.

Lu Yao: “Are you awake? I’m planning to check out the new shop. Want to come along?”

“Yes!” The door swung open, and an icy chill drifted out. Budu stepped out.

The weather on the Nitean continent was getting hotter, as was the shopping street.

The temperature these days reached 27 or 28 degrees during the day, so Budu spent most of his time in his ice house, reluctantly becoming a homebody.

Worried he’d feel stifled, Lu Yao made a habit of inviting him out for walks during the cooler mornings and evenings.

…

Opposite the hot spring inn, next to the Childhood Tutoring Center, stood the new shop—a combination of three storefronts. The sign read: Lu Yao’s Interdimensional Internet Café.

Its style was as flamboyant as the Interdimensional Cinema across the street, aiming for maximum visual impact.

The concept for this shop had been unusually straightforward, leaving Lu Yao hesitant for a long time before deciding.

Budu: “Why an internet café?”

Lu Yao: “It doesn’t cost much.”

After dealing with the cinema’s financial aftershocks, she wasn’t ready for another expensive venture.

Budu: “Can an internet café make money?”

As a divine being, Budu shouldn’t have been concerned with such mundane matters.

But after spending so much time on the shopping street, his way of thinking had gradually started leaning toward the practical.

Lu Yao: “I’m not sure. But it doesn’t matter. This isn’t the first time I’ve started a shop without knowing what would happen. At this point, I’m used to it—it’s like unboxing a blind box.”

…

Zhou Su and Zheng Ziyang arrived early, walking over from the parking lot. They spotted Lu Yao and Budu standing in the middle of the small road and quickly realized what was happening. They hurried over.

Sure enough, another shop had opened.

Zhou Su: “This time, it’s an internet café? What kind of world will it be across the Stargate?”

Lu Yao: “I don’t know yet, but it’s likely a cultivation world.”

Do Not Disturb Ascension—there really wasn’t any other plausible explanation.

!!!

Zheng Ziyang’s face was full of shock. “A cultivation world?”

Zhou Su, more accustomed to Lu Yao’s antics, didn’t look as incredulous, though she was still intrigued by the possibility.

Zhou Su: “An internet café in a cultivation world? You really don’t have a bottleneck phase, do you?”

What kind of incredible imagination did it take to come up with an idea like that?

On second thought, though, a cultivation world—rich in spiritual energy, filled with opportunities, natural treasures, and divine techniques—might not be drawn to ordinary shops.

An internet café might just be the perfect out-of-the-box choice.

Lu Yao, satisfied with the new shop’s signboard, pulled Budu along. “Let’s go in and take a look.”

..l

As the owner and Budu stepped into the new shop, Zhou Su and Zheng Ziyang immediately posted a picture of the new storefront in the staff group chat.

[Little Pet Cafe Zhou Su]: New shop, possibly in a cultivation world!

[Nail Salon Mumu]: What?!

[Hot Spring Inn Zheng Ziyang]: Cultivation, also known as seeking immortality, involves mortals absorbing spiritual energy from heaven and earth to strengthen their bodies, practice spells, and extend their lifespans, all in pursuit of transcending mortal realms and ascending to immortality.

Zheng Ziyang, who’d had a phase of reading cultivation novels in his student years, felt a surge of nostalgia. Back then, he often fantasized about spiritual energy awakening and stepping into a cultivation world to lead a legendary life.

Who would’ve thought that after entering the workforce, his dreams buried by reality, he’d actually encounter such a possibility?

This was destiny. A fortuitous encounter!

His hands trembled as he typed.

Meanwhile, at the Interdimensional Cinema, it was lunch break. The staff sat in the lounge, eating and scrolling through their phones.

Even the little people had come to appreciate the joys of smartphones. If their daily internet time wasn’t limited to an hour and a half, they’d never put them down.

[Interdimensional Cinema Kuba]: What’s an internet café?

[Little Pet Cafe Ji Zhixin]: It’s like a smartphone, but a place specifically for surfing the internet!

[Interdimensional Cinema Tai Er]: Cultivation? Are there really celestial realms and immortals?

[Little Pet Cafe Zhou Su]: I don’t know about elsewhere, but if the owner says there are, then there definitely are!

[Interdimensional Cinema Zhu Zhu]: Where’s the owner? Why isn’t she saying anything?

[Hot Spring Inn Zheng Ziyang]: The owner went to the new shop with Budu.

[Childhood Tutoring Center Bai Yi]: Is the new shop right next to the tutoring center? I’m heading over right now!

While other worlds might not feel the same excitement, the staff on the shopping street were practically celebrating. It was a cultivation world!!!

…

Lu Yao and Budu stepped through the Stargate. The scenery outside the shop transformed, differing slightly from Lu Yao’s expectations for the shop’s location.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Do Not Disturb Ascension?

It was a straightforward hint, but could there be a trap?

If this world was truly as she suspected, what kind of shop should she open next?

And with the Dream Fulfillment System absent, would she have to activate the Stargate herself?

That was a skill Lu Yao hadn’t mastered yet.

The Stargate, like the yangju tree and acorus, was unique and couldn’t be replicated.

The hot spring inn mission had just concluded, so there was no immediate rush. If she were to open a new store, she’d first need to ensure the inn’s operations were well-organized.

The three human staff members at the inn were all capable, each with their own strengths. They were diligent and responsible, but they also leaned a bit too heavily into a relaxed, “take-it-easy” mindset.

When Lu Yao opened a new store, she had to focus entirely on the guests and the tasks at hand. Any completed store needed to be handed over to a responsible manager, so she could leave with peace of mind.

The little people staff were also dependable and pragmatic, but their inherent simplicity meant they couldn’t handle overly complex situations.

After two days of consideration, Lu Yao called the three human staff for a meeting.

The three arrived full of enthusiasm, thinking the owner had come up with another creative idea.

However, when the owner explained the situation, it was nothing short of a bombshell.

They’d only been working here for a few months and had adapted well to the pace and environment. They were entirely satisfied with their current jobs—never expecting the owner to already be planning her next leap.

Bai Lu asked, “What kind of store will it be next?”

Lu Yao shook her head. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Ji Qingyan followed up, “Have you chosen the location?”

Lu Yao shook her head again. “Not yet.”

Zheng Ziyang frowned. “Do you think our store has no potential anymore?”

It was clear that nothing was prepared, and yet they were being informed of a new store.

Privately, the shop staff had always been curious why their boss kept opening stores in different worlds.

She jumped from one store to another every two or three months, sometimes four. The pace was absurdly fast, yet each store somehow turned a profit.

If Lu Yao heard their thoughts, she’d probably cry out loud: Profitable? If it were truly profitable, why would I work this hard?

Despite their complaints, the staff couldn’t change Lu Yao’s mind.

She mentioned that she intended to train someone to take charge of the inn and invited anyone interested to approach her.

During the meeting, no one spoke up.

The next day, however, all three privately messaged Lu Yao, expressing their willingness to take on the responsibility.

Lu Yao, fair as ever, decided to implement a rotation system.

The inn not only needed a human staff manager but also a little people manager.

After all, matters in the Nitean continent would ultimately have to be resolved by the little people themselves.

The little people were much more enthusiastic about the “manager” position than the human staff, displaying an eagerness that was hard to match.

They gave it their all, each striving to be named the hot spring inn’s manager.

Watching the little people’s innocent and energetic behavior, Lu Yao couldn’t help but recall Lingyao’s remark: “They might grow brains.”

The fallen god Lingyao’s greatest sin had been his treatment of the Nitean little people.

As a divine messenger, his transgressions had led to Yangxi splitting her divine essence, with the goddess herself bearing the consequences and punishment for all the sins.

As a newly ascended god, Lingyao did not love the descendants of the old gods, choosing instead to wipe them out.

Simply lacking compassion wouldn’t have been enough to attract the god-slayers.

Lingyao’s true crime came 10,000 years later when the Nitean little people were born. Rather than guiding them, he deliberately eliminated any possibility of their civilization advancing.

Disgusted by the grotesque greed of the big humans, Lingyao wanted to prevent the Nitean little people from becoming the same. He treated them as mere pets, to be kept under his control on the Nitean continent.

Using simple symbols, he divided the little people into tribes, granting them only a small amount of knowledge and forbidding them from thinking, communicating, or progressing.

The little people were innocent and content with their lot in life.

Their existence remained identical to what it had been 10,000 years ago, with no changes whatsoever.

In that time, the world failed to spark even the smallest glimmer of civilization or progress.

The death of the yangju tree wasn’t the Nitean little people’s existential crisis; it was merely a warning—a reminder that they needed to seek change and carve out their own future.

But perhaps that warning wasn’t quite enough.

Later, the big humans’ inn appeared, breaking the closed world in another way. It introduced new landscapes, new knowledge, and small but significant changes began to emerge.

Lu Yao loved the little people’s innocence and vibrancy but also looked forward to the day they might “grow brains.”

She was curious, though—what expectations would this world’s new god have for their people?

The Nitean little people themselves remained unaware that subtle changes were happening in their world.

…

Late Night, Lu Yao’s Room.

Tonight was a girls’ chat night. The participants included Lu Yao, Jiexiang, Yuanwei, Hudie, A’dai, and Jianlan.

Dressed in pajamas and hugging a cat-shaped pillow, Lu Yao leaned against the foot of her bed.

The little people also wore adorable sleepwear and brought along their favorite bedding and snacks.

Worried she might accidentally crush them on the bed, Lu Yao pulled out an unused cat bed, placed the little people inside, and set it in the middle of her bed.

The chat began.

“Really? You poked his navel, and a flower sprouted from his head? And it was bright red?” Jiexiang repeated Lu Yao’s earlier statement with a face full of amusement.

Jianlan sat up straight, her eyes wide. “It was really red?”

Lu Yao was still fixated on the navel-poking incident with Yingtong.

Regarding how the Nitean little people reproduced, Yingtong had only briefly mentioned it before storming off, leaving many details unsaid. Lu Yao took the opportunity of the girls’ chat to bring it up.

If she’d used the classic excuse of “I have a friend,” she could easily have fooled these simple little people.

But she was too lazy to keep lying, so she just admitted it outright.

Part of her was also curious about their attitudes toward cross-species relationships.

So far, the Nitean women present seemed extremely enthusiastic about the topic.

Lu Yao was puzzled. “What’s so special about a red flower?”

Jiexiang, Hudie, and A’dai burst into laughter, casting sly glances at Lu Yao.

Yuanwei, being older and less playful, patiently explained.

Nitean little people reached adulthood at 66 years old, marked by the growth of flower glands.

When a little person with flower glands encountered someone they liked, a flower bud would sprout on their head.

In Nitean love, there was no deception.

Whether someone liked you or not was immediately obvious.

They only formed iris contracts with someone they liked and who liked them in return.

Hearing this, Lu Yao suddenly felt a bit guilty for teasing Lingyao earlier.

What a phenomenal racial trait!

Far more interesting than forming cocoons.

The Nitean little people, naturally innocent and love-driven, all seemed to have happy marriages.

Of course, relationships occasionally fell apart.

When love faded, the flower on their h’ead would wither and die.

But when they encountered someone new they liked, a fresh flower bud would grow again.

Every Nitean’s first flower had two petals.

The second flower had three petals, the third four petals, and so on. In other words, their romantic history couldn’t be hidden.

“…” Lu Yao could only give them a thumbs-up.

Lingyao must have completely used the big humans as a negative template, removing every gene he disliked to create such a fascinating species.

Still harboring a lingering question, Lu Yao asked, “So, do the flowers look different each time?”

Jiexiang finally stopped laughing and picked up the conversation. “Lu Yao, what did the red flower look like?”

Lu Yao replied, “A small, round flower with five petals, bright red. It was quite cute.”

The little people burst into laughter again.

Hudie raised her hand. “But who was it? So many people greet Lu Yao every day—it’s impossible to narrow it down.”

Lu Yao felt puzzled, as though she were being teased by the little people.

Even Yuanwei, typically the most composed, couldn’t resist laughing. “When someone encounters their first love, the flower that blooms is always red. It’s the same for everyone. Later on, if they fall for someone new, the flower will be different—any color, but never that striking, passionate red again.”

Lu Yao’s heart skipped a beat.

Hudie added, “There’s a saying: the simpler the flower’s shape, the more pure and intense the love.”

Blushing, A’dai whispered softly, “Actually, we don’t usually go poking our partners’ navels out of the blue. It’s usually… at night…”

It was, in fact, a discreet signal.

If a couple walked around in broad daylight with flower buds on their heads, it would be incredibly embarrassing.

Lu Yao: “…”

The process for obtaining a fetus seed was a bit more special.

After receiving a fetal seed at the temple, little couples would spend the night in the box hall.

That night, they would need to poke each other’s navels.

Unlike other times, the morning after, the flowers on their heads would wither and produce a fruit.

The parents would then place their fruit into the fetus box. After a day, the fetal seed would slowly transform into a fetus seed.

With the explanations done, the little people eagerly pressed Lu Yao, trying to figure out who the little person with the red flower was.

Lu Yao didn’t answer.

Jianlan stared at Lu Yao for a moment before blurting out, “Was it Yingtong?”

Lu Yao blinked. “Huh?”

After the mission was completed, Yingtong disappeared.

The Shenmu tribe didn’t seem to have any reaction to his absence.

The little people turned their heads in unison, staring curiously at Jianlan. “What makes you say that?”

Jianlan recalled Yingtong’s strange behavior back then. After explaining, she waved her hands dismissively. “I must be overthinking. It’s probably not him.”

The little people looked visibly disappointed, as though they had missed out on some juicy gossip.

By now, Lu Yao had a comprehensive understanding of the process for transforming fetal seeds—plus a few unexpected details.

The little people continued circling back to the topic, determined to dig up some gossip about the innkeeper.

Lu Yao decided to play dead.

The chatter lasted deep into the night. Eventually, the little people grew sleepy and dozed off in the cat bed. They only left Lu Yao’s room the next morning.

The male partners who had been eagerly waiting for their chance to poke navels spent a sleepless night. Their disgruntled faces over breakfast made the situation even more awkward.

Lu Yao, having matured a lot overnight: “…”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

“You have a very unusual body.”

“And you are?” Lu Yao sized up the straw-hatted little person, a suspicion forming in her mind.

The little person straightened slowly and removed his straw hat.

When Lu Yao saw his face, her certainty wavered.

He had crimson eyes similar to Yingtong’s, but unlike Yingtong’s sharp, vibrant gaze, his eyes were dull and lifeless. His short, pale-golden hair framed a face with a terrifying scar: the right half appeared to have been severely injured, with the skin stripped away, leaving large patches of raw, pale pink scars.

He was wrapped in a dusty animal hide, exuding an air of desolation. From his left wrist sprouted a moonflower stem.

“My name is Lingyao. I’d like to request a guest room.”

The previously aggressive tone seemed only to have been meant to draw attention. When Lingyao spoke again, his voice was calm and polite, as if he were a different person.

Lu Yao turned and walked ahead, motioning for Lingyao to follow. After a few steps, she noticed Yingtong wasn’t moving. She stopped and called back to him, “Yingtong, let’s go. Breakfast includes your favorite shrimp dumplings.”

“I don’t even like shrimp dumplings,” Yingtong retorted.

“I’m also making sea urchin steamed egg, beef potstickers, and your favorite brown sugar glutinous rice cakes,” Lu Yao added casually.

Yingtong: “…”

Lingyao glanced back at Yingtong, a flicker of strange light in his dull eyes.

The inn was particularly lively in the morning. The moment they stepped inside, the warm aroma of food filled the air. Every guest room had occupants.

Lingyao’s scars were truly startling, drawing countless stares as he entered.

He checked into the Treehouse Rooms and spent the entire day wandering around the inn, eating and idly exploring.

His appearance clearly suggested he was from the Shenmu tribe.

But none of the Shenmu tribe members recognized him.

The Shenmu tribe had always been small in number, with every member carefully recorded.

Lu Yao discreetly took a photo of Lingyao and showed it to the elder chieftain, who confirmed that there had been no such person in their tribe in the past 600 years.

Neither Lingyao’s name nor appearance matched anyone in their records.

Late at night, Lingyao came to find Lu Yao. His dark red eyes stared at her intensely. “May I tell you my wish?”

Lu Yao had suspected it all along—this little person was the god of the Nitean continent.

Lingyao didn’t want to talk inside the inn and asked Lu Yao to accompany him to the new sacred tree.

Lu Yao grabbed a coat, tucked her phone into her pocket, and followed him outside.

During the peak sunny season, Nitean’s daylight lasted under three suns, but at night, only one moon remained.

The night was cool and tranquil, the valley utterly silent.

There wasn’t a breath of wind, only the soft silver glow of string lights on either side of the fence, casting a hazy luminescence.

Lingyao refused to be carried in Lu Yao’s palm, walking ahead on his own, leaving her to carefully follow behind.

Over the past few days, Lu Yao had been nurturing the sacred tree with the divine powers of the Deep Sea Goddess and the Goddess of Abundance. It had grown rapidly and now reached her knee.

Standing before the budding sacred tree, Lingyao’s dim red eyes flickered with a faint glow. He extended his hand carefully, almost touching the tender new leaves, but hesitated and withdrew it. Letting out a wistful sigh, he turned to look at Lu Yao.

“That red-eyed boy likes you,” the god remarked.

Lu Yao: “…”

Her first encounter with a gossiping god.

“I’m envious,” Lingyao added, striding to the half-meter-tall brick fence. He lightly jumped onto it, sat cross-legged, and patted the spot beside him. “Come, sit here.”

Lu Yao: “…Alright.”

Lingyao: “Do you know the story of the sacred tree?”

Lu Yao shook her head. “Does it have anything to do with your wish?”

This kind of opening was all too familiar to her.

She didn’t mind hearing a story but preferred skipping the long prelude and getting straight to the point.

Lingyao: “Yes, it’s related to my wish.”

Well, there was no avoiding it.

Lu Yao indicated her willingness to listen.

About 30,000 years ago, the goddess who ruled the Nitean continent wasn’t Lingyao but the Sun Goddess, Yangxi.

True to her name, the Sun Goddess Yangxi was like a warm sun that illuminated the world with her radiance. She doted on her people, granting nearly every request and even sharing some of her divine power with them.

Unfortunately, human greed knew no bounds, and they failed to restrain themselves.

When Yangxi discovered that some of her people were abusing the divine power, she punished them and withdrew part of it. This, however, incurred humanity’s resentment.

20,000 years ago, greedy and depraved humans organized a grand “god-hunting contest.”

They sought to kill the goddess and divide her divine power among themselves.

Lu Yao found this absurd. “Humans could oppose a god?”

Lingyao sneered. “Human souls are the filthiest. They’re easily tempted by desire, like overinflated balloons, oblivious to their limits and imagining themselves the masters of the world. Even gods can become their prey.”

Lu Yao fell silent.

Born as a human…

The Sun Goddess was heartbroken by her failure to guide her people properly. Yet, as the Sun Goddess, her compassion was boundless. Even at the end, she couldn’t bring herself to destroy her people.

At the time, the goddess had a divine messenger named Ling.

Ling, seeing greedy humans continually harm the goddess, began secretly eliminating them.

As a divine messenger, he shouldn’t have misused his power in this way.

But Ling couldn’t stop himself.

His once beautiful grayish-blue eyes became tainted with blood-red hues until the goddess noticed his actions.

The divine messenger fell into darkness and turned against the goddess.

The Sun Goddess’s divine power waned, throwing the world into chaos.

At that time, the god-slayers were even more ruthless than now. They would sniff out even the slightest trace of sin, hunting down gods like rabid dogs and delighting in their slaughter.

It was then Ling realized that he had hurt the goddess far more deeply than the humans had.

Before the god-slayers discovered them, the Sun Goddess split her divine essence. Half became the sacred tree to support the world, and the other half was forcibly given to Ling to elevate him to godhood.

The divine messenger Ling became the new god, Lingyao.

The first thing Lingyao did after ascending to godhood was to erase humanity.

For the next 10,000 years, Lingyao guarded the sacred tree, awaiting judgment from the god-slayers.

But they never came.

One day, 10,000 years later, Lingyao, exhausted, collapsed beneath the sacred tree. A tiny fruit fell from the tree and hit him on the head.

This was the birth of the Nitean little people.

The newborn little humans grew to the size of a thumb, naturally pure-hearted, with lifespans three times that of ordinary humans, and an extraordinary attachment to Lingyao.

But Lingyao hated these little people.

He sensed the sacred tree’s power was fading. Though the loss was gradual, it would eventually run out.

Lingyao erased all remnants of human civilization, assigned roles to the little people, and bestowed upon them a small amount of survival knowledge. He forbade intermarriage between tribes and left behind the terrifying legends of the big humans before departing from the sacred tree.

Lu Yao: “Why forbid inter-tribal marriage?”

Lingyao: “It might make them grow brains.”

Lu Yao: “…What do you mean?”

Lingyao: “Without restrictions, they’ll eventually become as greedy, arrogant, and ugly as the big humans. But within their small bodies, it’s even more revolting.”

Lu Yao: “…And what have you been doing for the past 10,000 years?”

Lingyao’s expression changed. The sinister aura surrounding him dissipated, and he became solemn. “I’ve been searching for a way to bring her back. For 10,000 years, there’s been nothing out there. But then, you came.”

Lu Yao felt a growing sense of unease. “…What do you mean?”

Lingyao’s gaze softened unnaturally as he looked at her. “You have a very special body.”

Lu Yao stood abruptly and turned to leave.

Though she didn’t know exactly what Lingyao intended, her internal alarm was blaring like crazy.

The next second, Lu Yao’s body became immobile.

Lingyao, a fallen god turned dark deity, was consumed by obsession, becoming a twisted force.

He leapt onto Lu Yao’s shoulder and gently nuzzled her cool skin. “You’re such a perceptive human, even waking her ahead of time. Your body is truly worthy of her.”

Whizz! A slender rod flew past, grazing Lingyao’s cheek, leaving a milky-white liquid dripping from the wound.

From the shadows emerged Yingtong, holding a small golden lotus in his hand. He coldly glared at Lingyao. “A mere fallen god dares dream of reviving a goddess. That’s forgivable. But you shouldn’t have set your sights on her.”

Lingyao wiped the “blood” from his cheek with the back of his hand and sneered, “And you, a mere fallen being, covet what isn’t yours. Let me deal with you first, then strip her soul away. All I need is the body.”

Lu Yao: “…”

How spectacular could a fight between a fallen god and a god-slayer be?

Before Lu Yao’s mental commentary concluded, Lingyao had already been forced to his knees, coughing blood under Yingtong’s pressure.

Apparently, Lingyao wasn’t exactly a combat-oriented god.

Coughing up white blood, Lingyao scoffed disdainfully, “Kill me, and she’ll be trapped here too. Isn’t that interesting? Go ahead, do it!”

Suddenly, a breeze stirred the stagnant air. The binding force on Lu Yao was released as the surrounding space regained its flow.

She turned to glance at the young Yangju tree behind her, then approached Yingtong, stopping to look down at Lingyao. “What exactly is your wish? Maybe I can help fulfill it.”

Lingyao sneered. “You?”

Lu Yao nodded. “Me.”

The god-slayer beside her was terrifyingly powerful. Lingyao clearly couldn’t win.

Thinking quickly, Lingyao decided to stall for time. He replied casually, “I want… I want to guard her again, to accompany her, as I did ten thousand years ago. I would never betray her again.”

Lu Yao: “That’s all?”

Lingyao mocked, “That’s all. But I doubt this god-slayer will let me go so easily.”

Lu Yao glanced at Yingtong.

Yingtong loosened his grip.

Lingyao: “…”

Lu Yao looked at the scar on Lingyao’s face, already scabbed over. “Why is your blood milky white?”

Lingyao: “It’s nothing. My true form is a flower.”

Lu Yao: “An Acorus?”

Lingyao remained silent.

That was as good as an admission.

The Acorus had always grown alongside the yangju tree. Even when Lingyao left the sacred tree, the Acorus remained to accompany it.

While the yangju tree expended its divine power to nurture new humans, Lingyao used his own power to sustain it.

Later, the Shenmu tribe began using Acorus dew to water the yangju tree.

Lu Yao whispered a few words to Yingtong.

The night passed, and as dawn’s first light broke over the horizon, a tiny budding white Acorus appeared beneath the young Yangju tree.

Lu Yao asked, “Without gods, what will happen to this world?”

Yingtong shook his head. “This world already has a new god. Everything will continue as it is.”

A new god?

When had that happened?

Lu Yao was more concerned about the mission. Lingyao had technically been “executed,” but would that count as fulfilling his wish?

Yingtong: “I’m leaving.”

Lu Yao dropped her scattered thoughts and asked in surprise, “So soon?”

Yingtong: “Yes. Oh, come here for a moment.”

Lu Yao leaned in.

Yingtong whispered in her ear, “The way Nitean little people obtain a fetus seed is…”

Lu Yao’s eyes widened. “It’s that simple?”

Yingtong nodded, about to warn her not to try it recklessly.

Lu Yao reached out and lightly poked Yingtong’s navel three times.

Poof!

A small flower bloomed on top of Yingtong’s head, its five round petals unfolding in a fiery red.

Lu Yao exclaimed in surprise, “It’s that easy!”

Yingtong: “…”

He covered his head, glared at Lu Yao furiously, then turned and ran off.

He never appeared again.

Lu Yao watered the yangju sapling and the Acorus nestled beside it before heading back to the inn.

As she stepped through the door, a thin slip of paper fluttered down.

Catching it, Lu Yao found four words written on it:

“Do Not Disturb Ascension.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

After the New Year’s Festival, the second lunar month arrived in the blink of an eye.

For families with sons preparing for the tongsheng exam that year, the New Year period was particularly quiet—they avoided banquets and social visits to keep the household calm, allowing the young men their final month of focused study.

Qi Beinan, after several years of effort, was finally able to take the exam at the age of fifteen or sixteen.

This year’s county examination was set for the twenty-first of the second month. Qi Beinan had to enter the city by the first day of that month.

He would stay in an inn in town so he could reach the exam hall early the next morning.

Qi Beinan personally felt it would be fine to leave early on the second day instead—as long as he called for a cart in advance, the exam’s first session wasn’t until the afternoon. He’d have enough time.

But his family cared deeply about the exam. Even though spring had begun, the weather remained bitterly cold.

The official roads were muddy and difficult, and they were worried not just about delays, but that the chill would affect his condition in the exam hall.

So, he followed their wishes.

Early in the morning, Xiao Yuanbao bustled back and forth helping to pack.

Qi Beinan placed his brush and ink into his book chest. When he turned around, he saw a massive bundle already tied up on the table.

“I’m going to the county to take the exam, not traveling to the capital for the imperial exams. Why is there so much stuff?”

Xiao Yuanbao wiped the sweat from his forehead, and seeing that Qi Beinan thought it was too much, he began explaining, “You’re staying in town for three nights—four days in total. Even though it’s still cold in early February, you can’t go that long without changing clothes. A scholar has to stay clean.”

“Then there’s your toothbrush, tooth powder, towels—those toiletries are all must-haves. You use them every morning and night at home; it’s not like you stop using them just because you’re taking an exam.”

Qi Beinan nodded. “That’s reasonable. But the face towels and such—inns usually have them. We don’t need to bring extra.”

“The inn may have them, but how many people do you think have already used those? And who knows if the attendants cleaned them properly before giving them to the next guest? Better to bring one of your own—won’t hurt.”

Xiao Yuanbao added, “Besides the essentials, I packed four good candles. If you study at night, you can light one. They don’t smoke, smell nice, and are bright.”

Qi Beinan pulled out a long box—sure enough, there were four red candles inside.

“Where did these come from?”

Candles were more expensive than oil lamps. Most families, including the Xiao household, used oil lamps and rarely bought candles.

“I bought them with my saved-up money. Red candles give a ‘bright and prosperous’ feeling.”

Xiao Yuanbao said, “The candle seller claimed that a previous exam taker used their red candles and passed the scholar’s exam right after.”

Every exam season, vendors in the county would push stories like that—how so-and-so ate at a certain place and made the honor roll, how someone else bought a certain item and suddenly became brilliant…

It was all a sales pitch, and plenty of people bought into it, hoping to borrow some luck. Many of them hadn’t put in real work and were simply clutching at straws.

Although Qi Beinan had always felt that way, he didn’t reject Xiao Yuanbao’s gesture and carefully closed the box.

“Candles like these burn out fast. It’s kind of expensive.”

“We’ll buy more for your next exam,” Xiao Yuanbao replied cheerfully. “I also prepared some food: six braised preserved mustard and meat pancakes, some sliced pig’s head meat, and a rabbit leg. Second Sister already arranged with the inn’s kitchen—they’ll heat them for you.”

The inn in town was one that Fang Jie’er had helped him find. She’d lived in the city a few years and had connections.

“Did you bring any of the pickled chili vegetables? I want a jar to eat with porridge or steamed buns.”

Xiao Yuanbao slapped his forehead. “Right, right! I packed it up already—if you hadn’t asked, I’d have forgotten it outside. I’ll go get it.”

Qi Beinan’s brows lifted slightly. He had just complained about packing too much, yet here he was adding even more to the pile.

He followed Xiao Yuanbao, thinking it’d be better to put the jar of pickles in the book chest so it wouldn’t break during travel.

Xiao Hu also stayed home that day. When Qi Beinan was nearly finished packing, he handed over two strings of copper coins.

“Buy yourself a couple of good brushes.”

“I’ve got brushes already—ones I’m used to. No need for new ones.”

Spring planting was about to begin, and Xiao Hu and Tian Ken would be busy—not to mention they still needed to buy seeds. Money would be tight, and Qi Beinan didn’t want to take their hard-earned coins.

“It’s not much. Just take it. I don’t know much about these exam things, so I don’t have advice to give. Just don’t skimp on food and comfort while you’re away.”

Xiao Hu forced the coins into his hand. “I’m heading to the fields.”

Qi Beinan understood his good intentions and didn’t argue further. He placed the coins in his room.

He was carrying a tael of silver and some small change—too much money on him would only be inconvenient.

That afternoon, Xiao Yuanbao walked him to the village entrance. Qi Beinan left with a large bundle and a book chest, heading toward the city by ox-cart.

Xiao Yuanbao watched until the cart disappeared from sight, rubbed his hands together, and finally trudged back home through the muddy road.

He couldn’t help but worry—what if Qi Beinan didn’t pass?

When Brother Zhao passed the tongsheng exam, the village head was overjoyed and proudly introduced him to local elders and gentry. It was such a moment of pride.

But if Qi Beinan didn’t pass, the village gossip would surely start again.

Sigh…

Xiao Yuanbao let out a quiet sigh. He was more nervous than the one actually sitting for the exam.

Meanwhile, Qi Beinan arrived at the county seat. It had just rained, and everything was damp and soggy.

He didn’t linger around the city but went straight to the inn that had been reserved in advance.

Tongsheng’s examination drew boys from villages all over the region—many had come early.

By the time Qi Beinan arrived, the inn was already bustling. In the main hall, several scholars were gathered and chatting, likely boys from the same village who had come together to look out for one another.

In years without exams, this time of year usually left the inns quiet and deserted. But now, the entire city’s commerce was invigorated by the influx of candidates.

At the front desk, Qi Beinan collected his room token. A tall attendant, upon hearing his name and recognizing his connection to Fang Jie’er, became quite warm and enthusiastically helped him carry his bundle to the room. He even brought up hot water for soaking his feet.

After soaking, Qi Beinan gave him the marinated meat dishes that Xiao Yuanbao had prepared, asking the attendant to take them to the kitchen to be reheated.

He planned to have that with a bowl of thick porridge for dinner, delivered around early evening.

He also handed the man a flatbread as a thank-you, which the attendant happily accepted.

Having finally shrugged off his travel wear, Qi Beinan prepared to lie down and rest. To speak truthfully, the child scholar exam was far from difficult for him—he didn’t need to cram during these final hours.

He had just unfastened his belt when a soft knock came from the door.

He reluctantly tied the belt back on, assuming the attendant had returned. But when he opened the door, it was a thin, short man with shifty eyes—glancing around as if up to no good.

“Greetings, young master.”

Qi Beinan frowned slightly. “Do I know you? What do you want?”

The man lowered his voice. “You must be tired, young master—alone in this room. Why not let someone soft and gentle attend to you? Relax your body and mind, and you’ll surely perform better on the exam tomorrow.”

Qi Beinan immediately understood what this man was offering and turned cold. “You know I have the exam tomorrow and you’re still here trying to peddle such filth? You’ve got some nerve.”

The man flinched and gave a servile smile. “No need to be angry, young master. If you don’t want company, I’ll go. But truly, she’s lovely and well-mannered, even knows a few characters…”

Qi Beinan glared as the man continued to push. “One more word and I’ll report you to the authorities.”

That shut the man up. He hunched his shoulders and slunk away.

Qi Beinan watched him for a moment, unsure if he’d try another room, but the man eventually disappeared. Only then did he close the door.

These underground brothels were becoming outrageously brazen—openly soliciting scholars taking government exams, without a care for the damage it could do to the country’s future.

…

The next morning, Qi Beinan packed his book chest and headed to the examination hall.

Unlike the provincial or metropolitan exams, the county-level child scholar test was more relaxed. After each session, candidates were allowed to return home or their lodgings.

As he locked his door, he saw a gaudily dressed woman leaving the room across the hall, her hair partially undone and reeking of heavy makeup and perfume.

She swayed away, followed moments later by a man in his thirties carrying a book chest.

Qi Beinan looked at him with contempt. No wonder someone that age was still stuck at the tongsheng level—spending even the night before the exam with women. How could a scholar like that ever succeed?

The county exam was administered by the local magistrate and consisted of five sessions.

One session on the afternoon of day one, then two each on the following two days—for a total of three days.

The material was relatively basic: poetry composition, recitation, and interpretation of the Confucian classics. Even policy questions had been removed in recent years and pushed to the provincial exams.

Any scholar who had memorized the Four Books and Five Classics would find this test manageable.

Seated in the exam cubicle, Qi Beinan touched the koi fish and lotus blossom sachet at his waist and smiled faintly.

Five tests? He might as well consider them handwriting practice.

After the session ended, Qi Beinan exited the examination hall and found Zhao Guangzong waiting for him.

As Qi Beinan emerged from the back section of the exam grounds, a crowd had already gathered at the entrance.

“Well? How’d it go?”

Zhao Guangzong had rushed over after finishing his own lessons. The county school was only a short distance away, and he had known Qi Beinan would be testing that day. He’d wanted to visit earlier but didn’t want to be a distraction—so he waited until the first session was over.

“I heard someone say the poetry portion was pretty obscure this time. Might trip people up.”

Qi Beinan’s brow tightened slightly, making Zhao Guangzong nervous.

Then Qi Beinan gave a serene smile. “Didn’t find it particularly difficult.”

Zhao Guangzong relaxed, his book chest bouncing on his shoulder. “I thought so! You even guessed that passage from the Classic of Filial Piety when I was testing—no way this stuff would stump you.”

“You’ve worked hard these days. Come on, let me treat you to some tea.”

Qi Beinan smiled. “Let’s just head to my inn. I can pack up while we’re at it—planning to head home later.”

The two of them sat in the inn for a while, chatting about their studies. They agreed to travel together in June to Linzhou to participate in the prefectural exam.

After the last prefectural exam, Zhao Guangzong hadn’t made the list, so he had studied diligently at the county school for two more years. He felt more confident this time around.

If Qi Beinan passed the county exam this year, he wouldn’t have to travel to the prefecture for the next level of testing. Due to recent reforms, the provincial education officials were now dispatching examiners locally, saving everyone a great deal of trouble.

As the sun dipped westward, Qi Beinan finally parted ways with Zhao Guangzong and headed home to the village.

After getting off the ox cart at the village entrance, he walked all the way to his house—but surprisingly, no one had come to meet him.

Thankfully, there was already smoke rising from the chimney. As soon as he stepped into the courtyard, the scent of chicken soup greeted him.

Had it not been for the smell of a good meal, the quiet of the house might’ve made him think his return had been completely forgotten.

“Brother!”

Xiao Yuanbao had just returned from outside. Seeing a familiar figure in the courtyard, his eyes lit up and he ran over joyfully.

He took Qi Beinan’s book chest from him and asked, “Why are you back so late?”

“I thought you were staying another night in town.”

Qi Beinan replied, “I told you this morning I’d be back today—how would I delay without reason? The sun’s nearly down and still no one came to meet me.”

“I was on my way, but I got distracted—some villagers were gossiping on the road, and I stopped to listen. Before I knew it, I’d missed you.”

Then Xiao Yuanbao mumbled, “Didn’t they say the final session ended in the late afternoon? Why are you only getting back at night?”

Qi Beinan chuckled lightly and explained, “Guangzong came to meet me after the exam. We chatted a bit before I came back.”

That made Xiao Yuanbao drop his pout. He hadn’t seen Qi Beinan for a few days, and it felt like the days dragged on forever.

“I boiled hot water. If you want to wash up, it’s ready. Are you hungry? The chicken should be just about done—I used the dried mushrooms we picked last year. It smells amazing.”

He dashed to the kitchen and brought out a bowl of chicken soup to cool.

“Father and Brother Tian Ken should be back soon too.”

Although Qi Beinan had bathed at the inn the night before, after a full day of exams and traveling home, he was covered in sweat again.

The second day of the second month had been drizzly and cold, but once the sun returned, it felt like summer by midday.

For those who had bundled up for the exam, it was miserable—crowded exam cells left many students sweating as if it were the dog days of summer.

Qi Beinan guessed the weather was going to keep getting warmer from now on.

“You mentioned some gossip—what was it that had you so caught up?”

Qi Beinan washed up while chatting with Xiao Yuanbao.

“Oh right! I was so happy to see you, I forgot.”

Xiao Yuanbao said, “Qiao Niangzi said that Bai family’s Liu Jie’er has been betrothed.”

Qi Beinan raised a brow. “To whom?”

“I heard it’s a well-off family in the neighboring county. They’re merchants and want for nothing.”

Qi Beinan said, “Didn’t the Bai family say they didn’t want their daughter to marry far away?”

Given their status and Bai Liu’s appearance, it wouldn’t be hard to find her a wealthy match.

“I thought the same,” Xiao Yuanbao said, “but the man’s the only son of his family. He has a good appearance and reputation too. The Bai family saw his portrait and agreed. They’re planning to host a banquet soon, which is how the news came out.”

He didn’t know about Bai Liu and Fang Youliang’s past feelings, and simply felt happy for her finding a good match.

But then he added, “Fang Ge’er said that after Brothrr Fang heard the news, he sat alone on the big rock halfway up the mountain for ages. Do you think he regrets not courting Liu Jie’er now that she’s getting married?”

Qi Beinan exhaled slowly and patted Xiao Yuanbao’s head. “Brother Fang’s a grown man. He knows what he’s doing. Now that Liu Jie’er has found a good match, best not to bring up the past.”

Xiao Yuanbao understood. If people found out Liu Jie’er had once liked Brother Fang, it could hurt her reputation.

He didn’t know Brother Fang’s true feelings, but perhaps it was just that he himself was young and didn’t understand the burdens of life—he still felt it was a bit of a shame.

“Who did the Bai family hire to cater the banquet?”

“They hired my teacher.”

Xiao Yuanbao added, “But I’m not planning to help this time.”

“Why? Did the Bai family offend you? I thought you loved helping at village banquets.”

“It’s because their wedding day falls on the same day the county exam results are posted. I want to go with you to check the list—how can I find time to help?”

He had originally thought that if Liu Jie’er and Brother Fang were the ones getting married, he’d have to consider carefully whether to attend the wedding or go see the results.

But now that Liu Jie’er was marrying into another county, the choice was easy.

County exam results came quickly, as the grading was done locally and announcements were posted soon after.

Postings had already been put up, though a single exam didn’t mean much. Even if you passed, it wasn’t something to be too proud of—you still had to pass the prefectural exam for it to really count.

On the fifteenth day of the second month, early in the morning, the bulletin board outside the county academy was packed with people.

Qi Beinan and Xiao Yuanbao went to see the red list.

It was a sea of heads, and with the dry weather persisting for over half a month, the heat made the air feel like the smoldering aftermath of a furnace—hot enough to warm water without boiling it.

Xiao Yuanbao had grown quite a bit taller—this time when they came to see the list, he no longer had to be squashed at the bottom like the past two years when he came with Zhao Guangzong, unable to see a thing.

He dove into the crowd and squeezed his way up to the front by himself.

Not long after, his tousled head emerged from the sea of people, his big eyes filled with sparkling excitement.

He grabbed Qi Beinan’s hand tightly: “You made the list! Brother, you made the list!”

Qi Beinan had already been fairly certain, and coming to check the results was more of a formality.

But seeing Xiao Yuanbao so thrilled, he couldn’t help but let a smile tug at the corner of his lips. “Look how happy you are. This is just the county exam—it doesn’t even qualify one to enter the county school yet.”

Xiao Yuanbao quickly shook his head. He wanted to shout with joy, but thought that would be too showy. So instead, he clutched Qi Beinan’s hand tightly and said, “Your name is right at the very top! You’re first place in this county exam!”

“Brother Zhao said that if the county school still has spots, even if you don’t pass the prefectural exam, being in the top three of the county exam can still get you in!”

The bright smile on his face wouldn’t go away. “And besides, if you ranked first in the county exam, how could you not make the list in the prefectural one?”

“You make a good point.”

Qi Beinan smoothed down Xiao Yuanbao’s fluffed-up hair and led him out through the crowd. “With that kind of encouragement, your brother will definitely pass the prefectural exam too.”

“But this is just the first step. No need to get ahead of ourselves—once we’ve passed both, then we’ll celebrate properly.”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded eagerly.

There was still a month and a half until the prefectural exam—no room for slipping now.

But his brother was so amazing, he ought to be rewarded!

“Let’s go to the market and buy two fresh pig brains to stew and nourish your mind.”

Qi Beinan rubbed his chin: “I think my brain’s still working just fine, might not need the extra boost~”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚