Ye Yun was about to climb the wall as well, but the fence was topped with sharp vertical spikes that were somewhat dangerous. Shi Ting yanked him down: “Let me call President Zhou first.”

Ye Yun: “Right, right, right, call first.”

President Zhou was arranging a proposal ceremony at home today. If Xiangzhen stumbled upon it beforehand, the surprise would be ruined.

And he would have his salary docked for a second time.

Shi Ting dialed the number and waited for a bit, but no one answered. He guessed Zhou Sicheng was personally setting things up and didn’t have his phone on him.

He glanced at the high wall and, between walking to the main gate five hundred meters away and scaling the wall, he chose to climb the wall.

Only, once he climbed inside, even Shi Ting was a bit baffled, because President Zhou hadn’t told them which villa he lived in, and Xiangzhen was nowhere to be seen.

There was quite some distance between each villa, so Shi Ting quickly called Zhou Sicheng’s emergency contact secretary, Gao Ou, to inquire.

……

The landscaping in Jiangge was a meticulously designed artificial environment crafted by the developers. In summer, the foliage was lush, with tall trees casting deep, cool shade.

Once Xiangzhen entered the woods, he no longer hid his power as a spirit. No longer constrained by the limits of human running, he followed the fragrance of sunflower pollen in the air, running resolutely in one direction with a steadfast gaze.

Floating in the air were various floral scents unpolluted by car exhaust; midsummer was truly wonderful.

In the next moment, he appeared in front of a small house with golden sunflowers in full bloom before its entrance. There were many people at the door, including Uncle Zhang and others he didn’t know, all busy setting something up.

Xiangzhen crouched behind a tree, his eyes fixed intently on that patch of sunflowers.

Tears welled up and spilled from his eyes.

So many, so many… a vast field of them, even more than the sunflowers back in the original Hazelnut Forest.

After that great fire, Xiangzhen had run for a very long time holding a seed from the descendant of his biological family, but the seed had already been roasted through.

Thank goodness, thank goodness.

Life always found miraculous ways to proliferate.

Xiangzhen thought, the living conditions of these descendant sunflowers were just too wonderful—pampered with water and fertilizer, enjoying exclusive sunlight, growing tall and sturdy, every single one reaching two meters. Where would they ever have had such conditions in the past? Back then, they had to fight with the hazelnut trees for sunlight.

It was precisely because he hadn’t managed to catch much sunlight originally that he grew so slowly; and because he grew slowly, he couldn’t grab much each year. Only in deep winter, when the Hazelnut Forest lost all its leaves, would the faint, meager sunlight filter through the bare branches and fall upon Xiangzhen.

The winter sun wasn’t warm enough, far from enough to sustain his vigorous growth. The sunflowers had all withered, their seeds falling into the mud, leaving the entire mountain desolate and cold.

Occasionally, a Siberian tiger would tread through the rustling snow layers on its mountain patrol; Xiangzhen would shake the snow off his head and watch it walk away, swinging its tail.

The process of becoming a spirit was long and lonely, which was why spirits liked entering human cities.

Xiangzhen was very lucky; as soon as he entered the city, he met a sun that belonged exclusively to him, and he never had to worry about lacking sunlight again.

In fact, it was almost a bit too much—the sun shone on him as an individual sunflower alone.

Xiangzhen felt an itch inside his collar. Reaching in, he pulled out a tuft of white cotton.

It was a mature seed from a silk floss tree that he had caught while weaving through the woods just now.

The tiny black seed was hidden inside a large tuft of cotton; when the wind blew, the cotton would carry the seed off to venture into the world.

Plants didn’t have legs; this was plant mother’s way.

So, who was the original “cotton” that wrapped around that fortunate sunflower seed?

From his vague childhood memories, Xiangzhen dug up traces of human activity—a scientific expedition team had once passed through the Hazelnut Forest in late autumn.

A gentle voice had brushed across his leaves.

He tried with all his might to recall those humans.

Was the person who took the sunflower seed among the few people in front of him right now?

Xiangzhen widened his eyes, looking closely.

Suddenly, a face was projected without warning into his pitch-black pupils.

Zhou Sicheng walked out from the villa, wearing black trousers, a pure white shirt, neatly styled black hair, and deep-set facial features.

Beneath the sky’s light, he was as handsome as a heavenly god, his shadow cast upon the ground boasting sharp, three-dimensional lines.

Frowning, Zhou Sicheng raised a hand to interrupt the performing orchestra.

The symphony orchestra instantly fell silent.

The housekeeper respectfully brought over a hand towel: “Is Young Master Zhou dissatisfied with the repertoire?”

Zhou Sicheng had just personally arranged a batch of sunflowers, and his palms were covered in dirt. He took the towel and wiped them.

Although they were already married and were an old married couple,

he still hadn’t put a ring on Xiangzhen’s finger—he was missing a proposal.

A proposal should be romantic, but Zhou Sicheng himself wasn’t particularly romantic, only able to think of the most cliché methods.

He wanted to set the atmosphere for the proposal, but he was unsure whether Xiangzhen could appreciate it.

After all, his wife was a humanoid AI who repeatedly watched the first episode of cartoons and listened to noisy, mindless short-video voiceovers every single day.

Was the orchestra’s repertoire a bit too sophisticated?

Should he actually play trending TikTok songs, looping each one for fifteen seconds?

Zhou Sicheng: “Let me think a bit more.”

It was hot out. If it weren’t for the fact that Xiangzhen liked the outdoors and sunlight, indoors would be much more comfortable.

Zhou Sicheng waved his hand, letting the orchestra head inside to rest. He himself walked over to a grand piano.

He stood in front of the piano, unbuttoned his cuffs, rolled up his sleeves, and rested his slender fingers lightly on the keys. In an instant, fluent piano music resounded.

He played while standing—it was hot, so he couldn’t bring himself to sit down and play.

Surrounded by sunflowers, golden blooms waved like ocean swells beneath a blue sky and white clouds.

The Sun God in their midst kept his eyes lowered, filled with deep affection, incomparably noble and dazzling.

Was this really his husband?!

His husband’s hands were meant for holding a steering wheel or wielding a non-stick pan!

Was this… the true face of the sun?

Without realizing it himself, Xiangzhen had held his breath for a very long time.

Fierce running, sweating, tears, reuniting with kin who had survived a great disaster, witnessing a transformed lover…

Xiangzhen’s throat felt suddenly tightened, as if squeezed shut.

Drenched in sweat, Xiangzhen’s fingers trembled as he held onto the tree trunk, his legs so weak he could barely stand.

Staring at Zhou Sicheng for too long, he began seeing stars, yet he stubbornly refused to turn his neck away.

The longer he watched, the hotter his face felt, flushing with an unhealthy red.

He saw someone run out from the villa and hand a phone to Zhou Sicheng with utmost respect.

Zhou Sicheng took it, his expression shifting; in almost the very next second, his sharp gaze swept right toward him.

Xiangzhen raised a hand to cover his mouth.

In a single glance, Zhou Sicheng spotted his wife in the shade of the trees. That little face was abnormally red, and he was clutching his mouth tightly, as if terrified that making a sound would lead to being discovered.

Throwing his phone aside, he ran over in panic.

“Wife!”

Xiangzhen let out a dry heave and was caught in Zhou Sicheng’s arms.

Nausea surged continuously in his stomach. Xiangzhen squeezed his eyes shut—what was happening to him? He felt a fire burning within.

In his fading consciousness, he seemed to hear a doctor’s voice.

“Strenuous exercise, heatstroke, and dehydration, combined with emotional agitation, triggered a chain reaction in his stomach causing dry heaves.”

“Put him on a saline drip. No major issues; he can be taken home.”

Next, he felt as if he was lifted onto a bed and pushed a long way.

When he woke up again, Xiangzhen saw a very high ceiling.

Shifting his eyes, he saw Zhou Sicheng’s face.

A familiar burning sensation returned to his abdomen, and his face flared hot as if suffering an allergic reaction.

Xiangzhen fiercely suppressed the urge to turn his head away and faintly closed his eyes, “Husband.”

Zhou Sicheng’s voice was very soft: “I’m sorry, wife, I scared you.”

He held Xiangzhen’s hand tightly. He hadn’t expected Xiangzhen’s reaction to seeing him would be like that.

Clearly, when Xiangzhen saw him working at Zhoufu Headquarters, his eyes had been filled with sparkling stars. Bringing Xiangzhen into Zhoufu had been a test on Zhou Sicheng’s part, a way to gauge whether Xiangzhen adapted well to an elite husband. He had thought the outcome was what he desired—

However, right before Xiangzhen fainted, Zhou Sicheng had vaguely caught a glimpse of a terrified urge to escape in his eyes.

He must have misseen.

Xiangzhen: “Did you… lie to me?”

Zhou Sicheng: “I’m sorry. Actually, I wasn’t short on money. I’m the President of the Zhoufu Group, Zhoufu Bank is mine, and Little Sunflower Bag is mine too. I just wanted to find someone to live a simple life with, someone who wasn’t with me because of my status.”

This reason, stated now, sounded utterly ridiculous.

He had used this excuse to “test” Xiangzhen for a whole month, doing every single thing a married couple could do.

He was wretched to the core.

Xiangzhen blinked, his mind and body seemingly at war with each other.

His husband was both handsome and wealthy!

And yet, he felt somewhat like throwing up.

It was as if he had broken his vow to his husband. He had declared with absolute certainty, “From now on, I will only believe what my husband says,” yet as Zhou Sicheng spoke, his body was visibly trembling.

Was it because Zhou Sicheng saying he was wealthy was too huge a contrast, and deep down inside he still hadn’t accepted this version of his husband?

Could it be that having money or not having money could determine one’s character and soul?

Xiangzhen suppressed this instinctual trembling; he didn’t want Zhou Sicheng to notice it.

He didn’t want to hear Zhou Sicheng speak—he wanted to hear Little Sunflower Bag speak.

Turning over slightly, he turned on his phone and asked Little Sunflower Bag: “Xiao Kui, who is Zhou Sicheng?”

[Xiao Kui: @Zhou Sicheng is your penniless husband!]

Xiangzhen: “Who else is he?”

[Xiao Kui: Zhou Sicheng is also your handsome and wealthy master, as well as your strictest father figure! He is the President of Zhoufu Group, the largest shareholder of Zhoufu, mainly investing in internet technology, with wholly-owned subsidiaries including Zhoufu Bank, Little Sunflower Bag AI, Feichi Ride-Hailing… and more. His investment portfolio also extends to…]

Listening to these unfamiliar yet familiar titles, Xiangzhen clutched the bedsheet tightly.

His husband managed so many companies all by himself, his brain was far too good… wait, he felt like throwing up again.

So Little Sunflower Bag had long told him that Zhou Sicheng was married in name only; it was just that he himself had never searched for it.

Listening to Little Sunflower Bag’s cheerful tone, Zhou Sicheng felt a sense of profound irony.

Why wasn’t Xiangzhen looking at him anymore?

Why wouldn’t his wife look at him?

Was being so wealthy actually a mistake?

Without money, how could he give Xiangzhen the best life? Without money, how could he strike down the vicious dogs eyeing Xiangzhen?

Zhou Sicheng: “Wife, this is our new home. I brought over all the things from the rented apartment—the range hood, the sunflowers on the terrace—everything. We will live here from now on.”

Xiangzhen froze, looking at the high ceiling. It was no longer the ceiling in the rented apartment that Zhou Sicheng’s head would bump into whenever he held him.

The new home was so big! Zhou Sicheng truly was top-tier among husbands!

No, wait—lying on this bed made him feel somewhat uncomfortable; it was as if he was suffering from a lack of acclimatization.

Xiangzhen: “I think the rented apartment was better.”

Zhou Sicheng: “A detached villa is better. Wife, there are no mosquitoes to bite you here.”

He still hadn’t forgotten that look of wanting to escape in Xiangzhen’s eyes, which was why he had decisively moved all of Xiangzhen’s belongings over.

Doing this might not be right, but he had no other choice.

Xiangzhen and Zhou Sicheng looked at each other.

He seemed to understand Zhou Sicheng a little bit now, because he actually saw fear in Zhou Sicheng’s eyes.

Zhou Sicheng was afraid of the consequences caused by his lies.

How could his all-powerful husband show a look like that?

Zhou Sicheng: “Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere? Do you want to talk to a professional doctor?”

Xiangzhen: “No.”

“Husband, I want to rest by myself for a while.”

Zhou Sicheng’s body went rigid. The Xiangzhen of the past would never make this request, nor would he have evasive eyes.

He took a deep breath: “Alright, I’ll be right outside.”

Zhou Sicheng pushed the physical robot of Little Sunflower Bag over, placing it beside the bed: “Wife, this is Little Sunflower Bag’s physical body. You can talk to it.”

Xiangzhen gave a faint response, lacking enthusiasm.

Zhou Sicheng’s heart sank.

He walked out of the room. The room was very large, big enough for an adult man to take ten paces across—unlike the rented apartment—yet with every step he took looking back, his gaze never met Xiangzhen’s.

In the past, every single time he turned his head, he would catch his wife’s focused gaze.

Zhou Sicheng closed the door and said to Ye Yun and Shi Ting at the entrance, “Let’s talk.”

He already knew what kind of physical agility Xiangzhen had used to scale the walls of the villa complex.

In whatever way he could enter, he could leave the same way.

The latter was an unforeseen event that Zhou Sicheng could not bear to face.

Zhou Sicheng discussed with Shi Ting how to strengthen the security team, utilizing the latest high-tech AI patrols and infrared sensing.

Ye Yun sat off to the side, looking like he wanted to say something but held back. How did things reach this point? This… this… President Zhou and Xiangzhen don’t even have a marriage certificate! Captain, is doing this really legal?

……

Once his husband left, Xiangzhen let out a breath.

He had tried very hard just now to avoid showing any fear toward Zhou Sicheng; in truth, his calves had nearly cramped up.

He didn’t want to treat his husband like this.

A tear slipped from the corner of Xiangzhen’s eye. He clearly still loved his husband very much.

Xiangzhen pulled out his phone and contacted the other spirit.

[Xiangzhen: Manning, right now when I see my husband, I feel a bit uncomfortable and want to throw up.]

[Manning: What happened? Did he hit you?]

[Xiangzhen: I don’t know, no. Can you bring the Adult Guidebook over for me?]

[Manning: Okay! Maybe we can find the reason in there!]

Xiangzhen pulled up the blanket over himself. His fear was inexplicable and impossible to voice.

He could only keep it deep in his heart.

Only when a sunflower carried troubles in its heart could it truly be considered grown up.