Zhou Sicheng sat up straight and gallantly extended his hand toward Sui Zhen: “Come up.”

Sui Zhen feigned normalcy: “Hubby, my butt hurts.”

Zhou Sicheng’s passionate overindulgence was built upon the freedom granted by his wife’s extraordinary natural physical endurance. But hearing Sui Zhen say this, a bizarre, uneasy alarm that conflicted with his medical knowledge rang out in his heart.

He had been careless; it was highly possible that his wife was simply too good at enduring it.

In a flash, Sui Zhen was scooped up by one arm hooking underneath his knees and another bracing his back, before being laid flat onto the bed.

The next second, Zhou Sicheng probed inside with his middle finger.

The exterior showed no signs of anomalies. When probed deepest, his fingernail returned slightly slick and oiled, but aside from that, there were no traces of blood.

Sui Zhen let out a soft whimpering cry, completely caught off guard by the abrupt, swift entry.

Hearing this short, emotional cry, Zhou Sicheng let out a sigh of relief. He smoothly slapped him once on his buttock and pulled up his pajama pants.

“Scaring your husband like that.”

Sui Zhen climbed up with a flushed face. Witnessing Zhou Sicheng’s transformation from a tyrant into a doctor, and then getting slapped—it wasn’t hard, but it left a fierce, burning sensation.

“Hubby.”

“Lay down properly.”

“Oh.”

Right after, Sui Zhen felt his ankles gripped by a pair of large hands. Drawing from experience, he prepared to flex and spread his legs, but an opposing force pressed down on his ankles, pinning his legs flat against the mattress.

“Don’t move.”

Zhou Sicheng’s voice came from the foot of the bed. “My wife walked around the construction site all day today; you must be exhausted. I’ve learned a bit of foot reflexology techniques myself.”

Sui Zhen froze. He had studied it before, so he could immediately discern that Zhou Sicheng’s movements were those of someone who had seriously trained in it.

Zhou Sicheng curled his index finger and applied heavy pressure with his knuckle right into an acupoint on the sole of Sui Zhen’s foot.

Controlling Sui Zhen’s ankles was an effortless task for him, and applying the exact amount of force required no strain at all.

“It hurts.”

As a sharp, aching soreness struck him, tears welled up at the corners of Sui Zhen’s eyes. He twisted his body into a side-lying posture on the bed. When his vision finally focused a moment later, he caught sight of the book Zhou Sicheng had tossed onto the headboard. The title turned out to be Traditional Chinese Meridians, rather than AI Algorithms.

He had clearly been the one who wanted to give his husband a massage, yet in the end, it was his husband massaging him.

In a momentary lapse of focus, his body was suddenly tugged forward. Just as Sui Zhen thought he was about to collide into Zhou Sicheng’s chest, the soles of his feet slipped into a basin of hot water.

A faint scent of Chinese herbal medicine wafted past his nose.

Sui Zhen propped himself up on the bed and looked down at the pitch-black foot-soaking broth.

Belatedly, two words crossed his mind: Foot spa.

It felt so good.

Zhou Sicheng must be way more expensive than that master technician wearing a cheongsam he saw earlier, because Zhou Sicheng’s massages possessed real strength.

“Hubby, you must definitely be at the 598 RMB tier.”

Is Shanghai only 598? Zhou Sicheng lost his hold on his laughter: “Do you even know what services are included in the 598 tier?”

Sui Zhen licked his lips: “The buffet?”

Zhou Sicheng: “You’ll know once you’re done eating the buffet.”

Zhou Sicheng fished his feet out, rested them across his own thighs to dry them off, and set up the small over-bed table. Then, he went to fetch two plates of seared steaks, a bowl of vegetable salad, a pastry platter, a plate of fried rice and fried noodles, and a sampling of various beverages.

“This is exactly what a foot spa’s buffet looks like.”

Zhou Sicheng said, “I can recreate it all for you. No matter what your underlying purpose is for going to a foot spa, it is absolutely forbidden under my roof.”

When they became wealthy in the future, they could just hire professional masters to come to their house.

Sui Zhen stared at the table laden to the brim with a complete buffet. There were even several varieties of drinks, served in tiny, single-sip cups.

The first time he ever had a buffet, it was actually at home!

Zhou Sicheng sliced up the steak for him. Considering that Sui Zhen didn’t like touching raw meat, he had seared it to medium-well.

Brandishing his knife and fork, Sui Zhen speared a piece of steak from the edge and popped it into his mouth. With his left hand, he lifted a mini pearl milk tea, chewed a bit, swallowed the steak, and washed it down with the milk tea.

Delicious.

He twisted up another forkful of fried noodles. It had ham sausage mixed in, which tasted incredibly fragrant. Fried noodles paired even better with cola, so Sui Zhen took another sip of cola.

So this was what eating a buffet felt like. Zhou Sicheng had even prepared eight different kinds of desserts for him, even though each one was only the size of a ping-pong ball.

No wonder his husband had been home so early; preparing all of this must have taken the entire afternoon. He had completely misunderstood his husband.

Sui Zhen handed the sampled cola over to Zhou Sicheng and lifted a cup of dark plum juice himself. “Hubby, cheers.”

It wasn’t a crystal goblet and it wasn’t red wine, but the deep hue faintly resembled it.

Zhou Sicheng gladly clinked his glass.

Zhou Sicheng: “If you like buffets, I’ll take you to a seafood buffet tomorrow.”

Sui Zhen shook his head solemnly: “No way, we need to save up to buy a house. I already have my eyes on a property.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Which housing development?” He wanted to make his move first.

Sui Zhen: “The ‘Wangxi No. 1’ that opens for pre-sales next year.”

Zhou Sicheng looked down on it: “There’s no need to turn yourself into a mortgage slave.”

Sui Zhen: “Don’t worry, Hubby, I’ll be the mortgage slave. Fan Hao said I can qualify for a loan.”

Zhou Sicheng fell silent. The mere thought that he wouldn’t even have the freedom to take his wife out for a seafood buffet in the future made him feel like he was truly fully immersed in the life of a corporate slave.

“Why are you in such a rush to buy a house? Do you not want to squeeze into this rented apartment with me anymore? Do you feel like the space is too small and we’re crammed too close together?”

“Hubby, I didn’t think that at all.”

“Let’s wait for a better one.”

Carrying a heavy, sorrowful silhouette, Zhou Sicheng gathered the dishes and chopsticks and walked over to the sink to wash them.

Sui Zhen sat on the bed, rubbing his thoroughly stuffed belly when his WeChat chimed with a notification.

It was the coffee spirit looking for him.

His true form was a Mandheling—a deep-roasted coffee bean with no acidity, stark bitterness, and rich aroma, making it perfect for iced Americanos.

He had actually descended the mountains a few years earlier than Sui Zhen. Armed with Auntie Guihua’s startup capital, he hadn’t entered the city right away. Instead, realizing the climate was suitable for growing beans, he had tracked down a high mountain at an altitude of 1,500 meters, where his self-pollinating nature yielded an abundant harvest of coffee beans.

The phenomenon of cleistogamous self-fertilization occurring right inside the flower buds meant they grew just like human hair—harvest after harvest.

Having completed the primitive accumulation of his means of production, he had joyfully descended the mountain to sell coffee.

These coffee beans were of exceptional quality; selling them at 40 RMB a cup wasn’t expensive in the slightest.

[Mandheling: The tin shack is leaking water, and it’s thundering tonight. I need to take shelter at a customer’s place. Do you think I should rent an apartment?]

All spirits were naturally afraid of thunder, and the long summer ahead would bring many rainy, thunderous days.

Sui Zhen’s eyes darted around as a mutually beneficial brilliant idea struck him: “I’ve rented two apartments. I can sublet one of them to you for 200 RMB a month.”

[Mandheling: How did you end up renting two? Did you strike it rich?]

[Sui Zhen: I didn’t make a lot of money, but I got married. One of them belongs to my husband. Don’t tell Auntie Guihua.]

[Mandheling: Husband?]

Speaking of his husband, Sui Zhen had endless things to share, and his fingers flew across the screen typing a response.

[I found an incredibly excellent human husband. Ever since I got a husband, someone picks me up and drops me off from work, there’s food waiting when I get home, someone washes the clothes, someone clears the dishes, someone gives me a massage when I’m tired from work, someone splits the down payment to buy a house, and someone talks to me before bed.]

Sui Zhen sneaked a glance at Zhou Sicheng who was currently washing dishes, and summarized: [Having a husband is truly exceptionally wonderful.]

[Mandheling: It sounds like your husband really is great.]

Sui Zhen’s lips curled upward. The coffee spirit was the very first person to speak well of his husband—as expected, spirits truly understood spirits best.

Yu Yuetue was a girlfriend, but Mandheling was a true brother.

[Sui Zhen: You can look for a husband too.]

He absolutely had to write this marvelous conclusion into the Guide to Becoming Human.

Right, speaking of the Guide to Becoming Human, each spirit could only keep custody of it for five years. Did the coffee spirit have it?

[Mandheling: I haven’t read it, because I spent the last few years working as a coffee tree up on the mountain.]

To think he was a pitiful spirit traversing human society without the assistance of the Guide to Becoming Human; his steps must be filled with hardships.

Sui Zhen: “Then you should move over tomorrow, we can read the book together.”

[Mandheling: Thank you, I will repay you with lots of coffee beans.]

Sui Zhen was just about to say that he preferred milk tea when he suddenly remembered that Zhou Sicheng was a programmer, so he might drink it during work.

If one wanted to drink coffee, there wouldn’t be anything higher in quality than what was in the coffee spirit’s hands.

Sui Zhen climbed off the bed, wrapped his arms around Zhou Sicheng’s waist from behind, and asked, “Hubby, do you like drinking coffee?”

Zhou Sicheng: “Occasionally.”

Sui Zhen: “Then I’ll deliver coffee to you tomorrow at noon!”

Working at a bank was great; he got a three-hour break every day at noon, which was more than enough time to make a trip.

Zhou Sicheng tactfully declined, because doing so would mean he’d have to scramble to find an office venue just to play out the charade.

Sui Zhen: “I bought a cup for Fan Hao yesterday, it cost forty RMB.”

Zhou Sicheng: “You bought coffee for Fan Hao?”

Sui Zhen: “I didn’t expect it to be so expensive.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Then I want it too.”

Sui Zhen: “Great! Hubby, I’ve rented out Room 1620 to my friend.”

“What kind of friend? Do they have a family?” Zhou Sicheng grew vigilant. Renting out 1620 didn’t matter to him—where would he find the time to go work out at night anyway? He could get plenty of exercise right on the bed.

Sui Zhen: “He doesn’t have a husband.”

Zhou Sicheng found himself experiencing a bizarre sense of relief. Not having a husband was fine; a single bachelor without a wife was what wouldn’t fly.

“When did you meet?”

Sui Zhen: “Today.”

Zhou Sicheng was left speechless. Meeting someone today and immediately renting an apartment to them—Sui Zhen had clearly just found a random tenant and lied by calling him a friend.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to crush his wife’s homemaking enthusiasm. In the future, he would have an immense portfolio of real estate to hand over to Sui Zhen for distribution anyway.

Zhou Sicheng: “When is your friend moving in?”

Sui Zhen: “Tomorrow morning. He currently lives in a tin shack right next to the construction site. Can you help him move? Hubby, you’re just too wonderful.”

The trunk of Zhou Sicheng’s BYD had plenty of space; cross-city moving wouldn’t even be an issue.

Zhou Sicheng: “…” Did he ever say he was going to help move?

He pondered over his schedule for tomorrow morning; it wasn’t like he couldn’t break away. If the other party turned out to harbor ulterior motives, he would simply reject them on the spot.

Zhou Sicheng finished washing the dishes and wiped his hands dry: “Fine, tomorrow noon it is. But first, I need to collect a little compensation.”

Sui Zhen covered his rear, fully understanding the implication.

Seeing his reaction, Zhou Sicheng only found it amusing. He pinched his cheek and said, “I won’t go inside tonight, and you don’t need to take off your clothes either.”

Before Sui Zhen could even rejoice, he watched Zhou Sicheng pull out a mist-blue, waist-cinching cheongsam from the wardrobe.

When he put it on, it felt as though it had been tailor-made for him. The slit was so high that it would flip right up with a single tug. How was this any different from wearing nothing underneath?

Sui Zhen lay anxiously flat on the bed, the cheongsam accentuating the elegant curve of his dipped waistline.

The sound of rushing wind and approaching heat drew near from behind. Sui Zhen’s eyelashes fluttered up and down restlessly as he felt Zhou Sicheng mount him, looking down from above to admire his cowering form.

The back hem of the cheongsam was hitched up and rolled to his waist, and the tightly wrapped underwear was pulled down three inches, exposing a palm-sized patch of snow-white skin.

And so, Zhou Sicheng went to work within that small square of space.

Sui Zhen closed his eyes, his cheeks burning a deep crimson. The stray hairs near his temples were pinned back by a sunflower hair clip, with a few strands dangling down, swaying with the rhythm of his breaths.

The eruption of the sun’s scorching flames found no oceanic trench to absorb it, so it was entirely caught by that tiny piece of fabric underneath.

With every breath, Sui Zhen could feel how thick and concentrated it was down there. It would have been better to just have it inside; inside, he would only feel fullness and heat.

Being on the outside left him with a panicked sensation of fluid flowing everywhere.

Zhou Sicheng propped him up: “Aren’t you going to wash your underwear? It’s about to seep through to the bedsheets.”

Sui Zhen was completely dazed: “Wash, have to wash it out.”

Otherwise, not only would it seep into the bedsheets, it felt as though it might try to creep back inside.

Clad only in the empty cheongsam with his slender, white legs supporting him, Sui Zhen stood before the sink. With trembling hands, he held the bundle of fabric beneath the faucet.

Zhou Sicheng generously turned on the tap for him—a thin, weak stream with minimal rinsing power.

As Sui Zhen scrubbed it with his hands, he could almost hear that… squelching, viscous sound produced by the combination of the substance, the fabric, and his palms.

Being stared at by Zhou Sicheng while washing his underwear made him realize for the first time that washing his own undergarments could be this humiliating.

Zhou Sicheng had produced such a massive volume, yet he only turned on such a tiny trickle of water for him.

“A ton of water costs five RMB. We need to conserve, baby.”

The next day at noon, Driver Zhou, having collected his compensation in full, arrived as promised to help Sui Zhen’s friend move.

Driving his BYD to the construction site Sui Zhen had specified, he spotted a tin-box coffee shop.

Fan Hao had been looking for Zhou Sicheng to sign some paperwork but found no trace of him. Having made a wasted trip, he had no choice but to call him: “Where are you? Your itinerary clearly says you’re having lunch at the headquarters building.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Out having coffee.”

Fan Hao: “You’re actually in the mood to drink coffee?”

Sui Zhen introduced his husband to the young coffee barista: “This is my husband, Zhou Sicheng.”

The youth stared at the brand-new BYD—large, white, and spotlessly clean, entirely unlike the transport trucks he usually saw around the construction site. “Is this the car your husband bought?”

Sui Zhen nodded, saying from the bottom of his heart, “It was a bit pricey.”

The youth likewise expressed from the bottom of his heart, “Your husband is so rich.”

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

Sui Zhen had truly managed to make a genuine friend.

Hearing the voice of the coffee shop owner over the line, Fan Hao instantly deduced where Zhou Sicheng was. He recalled the cup of coffee he had drank yesterday—so bitter it was agonizing and induced insomnia. Anyone who could down that with an unmoving face absolutely possessed true love for the shop owner.

“The Madam is treating you to coffee, is she? Drink up then, make sure you have a few more cups.”