Li Guihua felt like she was about to faint. Little Zhen had only been out working for two months, yet he had been duped into getting pregnant by this man right in front of her, with no idea where he had run off to.

She had been so foolish. She only knew that going into a factory to work on an assembly line made one vulnerable to being tricked by men—how could she have known that being a customer service rep carried its own risks? Weren’t all his colleagues supposed to be female?

She had nagged him repeatedly: if he found a boyfriend, he had to bring him over for her to inspect first, yet Xiang Zhen hadn’t let a single word slip.

Xiang Zhen wasn’t the kind of rebellious child who would nod to your face while defying you behind your back. Something must have happened.

Li Guihua grabbed a large iron shovel resting by the courtyard wall: “What did you do to our Little Zhen?!”

The blaring sun made Zhou Sicheng’s lips turn even paler: “I’m sorry. I was the one who lied to him.”

Li Guihua snapped: “Did you two sleep together or not?!”

Zhou Sicheng hadn’t expected his mother-in-law to be so direct. Realizing there was no longer any point in claiming to be just a friend, he stated: “We are legal lovers.”

“Legal?” Li Guihua spat, answering in such a roundabout way just meant they had slept together, which made it an eighty percent chance Xiang Zhen was pregnant.

Zhou Sicheng added: “As long as it’s not breaking the law, it is legal.”

Li Guihua raised her voice even louder, “Do you have any idea my son never went to school?! Have you no conscience? Do you think you’re impressive for taking advantage of an illiterate?!”

Zhou Sicheng turned the question back on her: “Why didn’t you let him go to school?”

Li Guihua’s aggressive momentum flickered for a second: “Uh, the family didn’t have the means back then.”

Zhou Sicheng glanced back at the three-story small villa behind her. Judging by the style of the tiles, it had been built at least ten years ago. Ten years ago, Xiang Zhen was only ten. They had the money to build a house, but no money to send a child to school? Compulsory education didn’t even cost anything.

Li Guihua wasn’t about to take Zhou Sicheng’s word for it. Remembering that Manning and Xiang Zhen lived together, she dialed Manning’s number: “Manning, why didn’t Zhenzhen tell me he was in a relationship?”

Had he told her, she would have at least warned him about what to do in case of a pregnancy.

Dou Manning explained: “Because at first, Zhou Sicheng lied to Zhenzhen about being in debt. Zhenzhen was embarrassed to tell you he found a broke husband. He wanted to wait until he earned money before returning home in glory, fearing his husband would lose face.”

Li Guihua: “…Fine. When you start dating, you must tell me.”

The phone leaked audio slightly, and Zhou Sicheng heard every word crystal clear.

So his wife had actually held such thoughtful, delicate worries for him.

At this very moment, he truly felt stripped of all pride and dignity right in front of his mother-in-law.

“Manning, when he said he lied to Little Zhen, did he mean tricking him out of money to pay off debts?” Li Guihua narrowed her eyes. A scumbag like that deserved to be gathered up and beaten by every sprite in existence.

Zhou Sicheng interjected: “No.”

Dou Manning added: “Zhou Sicheng used the persona of a worker to go on blind dates, but he’s actually a despicable capitalist.”

Li Guihua blinked: “Huh?”

Dou Manning continued: “Marx once said that capitalists appropriate surplus value through labor… The Guidebook also states that the proletariat and the bourgeoisie are inherently opposed.”

“I think, mm, that’s right.” Li Guihua usually just liked playing mahjong, so this sounded like absolute gibberish to her.

Dou Manning earnestly reported his recent intellectual achievements, sounding like a big kid who had just returned home from school.

Li Guihua felt her head spin. Since when had these two sprites become so cultured? City education really was something else. She could only echo: “You two have learned so much. Your teacher taught you so well.”

“So, do you know why Little Zhen was vomiting?”

Dou Manning replied: “Because his husband is a big capitalist, and he feels like vomiting whenever he sees a capitalist.”

“Right, right…” Li Guihua’s brain did a quick lap—Zhou Sicheng was a big capitalist; wait, big capitalist = rich person. What kind of condition made someone want to vomit upon seeing a rich person?

“Wait, that’s not right.” Li Guihua almost got tangled up in the logic. She remembered Zhenzhen didn’t harbor a hatred for the rich.

In the past, Xiang Zhen used to always say he wanted to find a Sun God. Fearing he would focus solely on looks, Li Guihua had casually bluffed, “Then you need to find someone rich—rich people have strong energy.” Back then, Xiang Zhen hadn’t been repulsed by the idea at all.

Dou Manning asked: “What’s not right?”

Since no one could refute Marx, Li Guihua shifted the topic: “Does Little Zhen vomit all the time? Is the reaction really that severe?”

Dou Manning answered: “Only when he’s in front of his husband.”

Li Guihua summarized: “So Little Zhen was simply disgusted into running away?”

Zhou Sicheng’s breathing hitched. When he heard Li Guihua say something wasn’t right, he had thought there was a turn of events.

He had been indulging in wishful thinking. None of the methods he tried—whether gentle or extreme—had worked.

Dou Manning stated solemnly: “Yes. Zhenzhen’s husband used a hunger strike to force him to suppress his nausea, and Zhenzhen ran away because he was afraid he’d die.”

Li Guihua shuddered violently: “Who went on a hunger strike? Who’s going to die?”

Dou Manning: “His husband.”

Li Guihua let out a sigh of relief, hung up the phone, and looked at the pale-lipped man standing before her with a gaze full of agony.

“…”

Oh, so the person throwing a hunger strike fuss was this guy.

Li Guihua felt at a loss on how to mediate this. Well, she had never been good at mediating the love-hate tangles between sprites and humans anyway, nor had the village mediation center ever invited her to learn.

Li Guihua knew Xiang Zhen was a sunflower, but she didn’t understand the habits of sunflowers.

She couldn’t accurately gauge the cause of Xiang Zhen’s vomiting either—whether he was pregnant or simply disgusted by capitalists.

Her impression of Zhou Sicheng shifted slightly. Little Zhen was clearly still deeply in love, and Zhou Sicheng was equally head-over-heels.

Before Little Zhen returned, Zhou Sicheng had better not end up dying at her house.

Li Guihua looked at her son-in-law, who was visiting for the first time. During the Dragon Boat Festival a while back, she had received a large truckload of anonymous festival gifts, which she had assumed came from Bai Qi’s family.

Thinking about it now, it must have been from her new son-in-law.

As his nominal mother-in-law, Li Guihua spoke up: “Come sit inside. I’ll make you a sweet egg soup with goji leaves.”

Zhou Sicheng replied: “Forgive the intrusion. If Xiang Zhen isn’t here, I plan to look for him elsewhere.”

Li Guihua felt that if he kept searching like this, he’d end up losing his life. She urged painstakingly: “Did he mention to you that he would come back?”

Zhou Sicheng: “Yes.”

Li Guihua: “Then rest easy and wait. That child has been fast on his feet since he was little—even I can’t track him down.”

Zhou Sicheng: “I can’t rest easy.”

Li Guihua sighed: “Ah, young people… If you trust your Auntie Guihua, go get a good night’s sleep. Our Little Zhen cares very much about looks. Keeping yourself in good health is more important than anything.”

How could a exhausted-looking sun that seemed ready to plunge into the ocean win the favor of a sunflower?

“Was Xiang Zhen trained when he was little? He jumped down from the second floor during a thunderstorm.”

Zhou Sicheng asked suddenly, staring fixedly at Li Guihua’s reaction.

Li Guihua rubbed her palms together: “Y-Yes. He and Manning received training from a young age. They had a master with peerless martial arts, which is why neither went to school. Little Zhen probably went into the mountains to seek guidance from his master.”

Li Guihua still preferred flinging herself onto the ground to throw a tantrum over dealing with a high-IQ CEO.

Next time, could Manning bring back a total idiot instead?

Zhou Sicheng pressed: “Where is this master?”

Li Guihua: “His whereabouts are unpredictable.”

Dou Manning trained too?

Zhou Sicheng remained silent for a moment, deciding to have Shen Ku feel out Dou Manning later.

“Thank you. May I take a look at Xiang Zhen’s room?”

Li Guihua: “It’s the one on the second floor with a tiny sunflower sticker on the door.”

Zhou Sicheng walked up to the second floor and stopped in front of a door. Right in the middle was a cartoon golden sunflower cut out from a picture, its edges jagged and messy, resembling a preschool craft made by a three-year-old.

He couldn’t help but wonder: Did my wife ever even attend preschool?

Li Guihua seemed somewhat pungent, yet she was exceptionally affectionate when speaking with Dou Manning on the phone and cared deeply for her children.

This family seemed to hold many secrets.

Zhou Sicheng surveyed his surroundings. There were several doors on the second floor, two of which were labeled “Coffee” and “Snake.”

Zhou Sicheng turned the door handle and stepped into a small bedroom filled with sunflower elements.

A small single bed with a white square mosquito net, and numerous sunflower ornaments hanging on the wall—none of which were bought, but rather handmade cutouts from various packaging materials.

Zhou Sicheng spotted a golden packaging bag from a popular brand of melon seeds. Featuring a large sunflower head on the pouch, Xiang Zhen had actually collected over a dozen of them and pasted them onto a fan frame, creating a waterproof hand fan.

The corners of Zhou Sicheng’s lips twitched upward as he recalled the boba tea bucket in the rented apartment. The first time he caught Xiang Zhen picking up used boba cups discarded by others, he had lost his temper with him.

If time could turn back, Zhou Sicheng wouldn’t lose his temper anymore.

He just wanted to hug this adorable wife who had been collecting packaging bags since he was little.

Even though Xiang Zhen had been away from home for two months, the tiny room remained spotless, regularly cleaned by Li Guihua.

Standing in this cozy bedroom, Zhou Sicheng completely discarded his hypothesis about Li Guihua being a child trafficker.

He noticed a stack of practice paper on the desk. Picking it up, he saw it was children’s calligraphy tracing paper, every single page filled to the margins.

Xiang Zhen had progressed quickly, though he clearly didn’t even know how to hold a pen at the start.

There were dates written at the top… Zhou Sicheng froze on the spot. Why did he only start practicing writing last year?

Was his wife truly that completely illiterate before the age of nineteen? To the point of not knowing how to hold a pen?

Did he really practice martial arts from a young age alongside Dou Manning?

Zhou Sicheng checked the other items on the bookshelf. There were elementary and middle school textbooks. Flipping them open, each book had only a few pages of notes, as if he had only attended a handful of classes that semester.

There were also some homework assignments, such as essays.

A 400-word semi-prompt essay: I Am—

Xiang Zhen had written: I Am a Sunflower in the Daxing’anling Mountains. The character for “stalk” was something he didn’t know how to write initially, so he first wrote “one item” and “one creature,” crossing them out three times before getting it right.

What an imaginative wife.

Reading Xiang Zhen’s handwriting, Zhou Sicheng felt as though Xiang Zhen were reading it right in his ear. He felt a long-absent wave of drowsiness wash over him. Lying down on the bed Xiang Zhen used to sleep in, he closed his exhausted eyes.

When he woke up, a bowl of sweet soup with two poached eggs rested on the desk.

Along with waking up, Zhou Sicheng’s sense of hunger returned.

Li Guihua was no longer at home. Whether Zhou Sicheng asked the neighbors or made phone calls, he couldn’t get in touch with her—she seemed to be intentionally avoiding him.

Zhou Sicheng left a large red envelope on the table.

He took a ride to the airport, preparing to head toward the Daxing’anling Mountains.

The Daxing’anling Mountains mentioned in Xiang Zhen’s essay was definitely no coincidence; it was Xiang Zhen’s spiritual home.

Zhou Sicheng was certain that Xiang Zhen was already in Daxing’anling.

Across the vast land, mountains and rivers intertwined.

Following the mountain veins and water paths, Xiang Zhen shrank smaller and smaller to make better time, turning into a palm-sized little sunflower with the posture of a butterfly and the speed of a high-speed train.

His flower head felt heavier, or perhaps it was because he hadn’t been a top-heavy sunflower in a long time.

Xiang Zhen came to a halt, coiling his roots to sit down while holding up his flower head with two leaves.

Suddenly, he looked toward the north. Dark, heavy storm clouds were gathering, forming a squall line ahead along his path. Xiang Zhen cautiously backed away a bit…

Then, he spun right around and bolted.

He wasn’t going to Daxing’anling anymore!

He missed his husband so much.

Besides, for some unknown reason, his feet felt sore and weak; he couldn’t walk all the way to Daxing’anling anymore.

He wanted his husband to fly him there in a private jet.

After turning back into a sunflower, Xiang Zhen discovered that not only could he not look directly at his husband, but he also feared the blazing sun. He kept traveling beneath the cool shade of trees to avoid being scorched by the intense heat.

Was it because he had used up some of his solar power, rendering himself fragile?

Xiang Zhen morphed back into human form, sitting on a clean stone by a clear stream in deep thought, his delicate eyebrows slightly furrowed.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up!

He found the reason!

He understood now! He was actually a sunflower that couldn’t handle high temperatures and intense sun exposure. Summer was too hot and he feared the sun, which inadvertently affected his connection to his other “sun” husband.

Once summer break ended and the temperatures dropped, he would be able to cuddle with his husband again.

Xiang Zhen peered through the gaps in the tree leaves, casting a reproving look at the scorching sun.

It was all because he had overly associated Zhou Sicheng with the sun.

Xiang Zhen chanted silently in his heart: “Zhou Sicheng is not the sun. He is just my human husband.”

It actually seemed to work! No wonder humans invented monks chanting scriptures.

Xiang Zhen decided to find a spot to beat the heat, waiting until the weather cooled down before heading back to find his husband.

The clear stream flowed gently, its water splashing with white foam. Xiang Zhen dipped his toes into the water, letting out a comfortable sigh.

His clothes could conceal or materialize along with him, though every time he transformed, the clothing suffered a bit of wear and tear.

Xiang Zhen adjusted his frayed cuffs, bending down to scrub the elbow area. When he jumped down and tumbled onto the ground, he had gotten his clothes all dirty.

What a pity for the clothes—Yueyue had mentioned these clothes were very expensive.

Xiang Zhen washed himself until he was nearly soaked all over, then lay flat on the stone to dry off.

He had left in too much of a hurry earlier and forgotten to put on shoes.

Without shoes, he couldn’t travel in human form; the soles of his feet hurt too much from the sharp stones.

Plant form, on the other hand, wasn’t so delicate and could take root in any harsh environment.

Xiang Zhen drank a bit of water and looked at his reflection in the stream.

The reflection in the water was a sunflower.

Huh?

A sunflower’s flower head ranges from greenish-yellow to bright yellow, packed with tiny tubular flowers brimming with pollen.

Based on his growth rate, his blooming period could last for decades, maintaining the most beautiful floral display throughout.

Why was there a patch that had turned brown from exposure? Xiang Zhen nudged it—had it been bitten by an insect?

Or was it because… Xiang Zhen’s face flushed hot. Could it be because this spot was frequently nudged by his husband?

…

Xiang Zhen wandered aimlessly.

He needed to find a mountain closest to his husband to cultivate.

How about West Lake? Would Bai Qi, that snake, be at West Lake?

When Manning was forming coffee beans a few years back, he found a high-altitude spot so the resulting beans would be of superior quality.

…

Zhou Sicheng stayed in the Daxing’anling area for nearly half a month.

The former hazel wood, after the fire, had been replanted with artificial Korean pines.

Zhou Sicheng secured a forest protection “job” locally.

Didn’t Xiang Zhen envy Dou Manning’s husband for being a noble worker?

Now he was one too.

With his feet on the ground, keeping company with the forest, Zhou Sicheng’s demeanor grew far more grounded and steady.

Yet, Xiang Zhen never showed up.

Perhaps he had come, saw that the place differed from his imagination, and quietly slipped away again.

Half a month later, Zhou Sicheng became certain Xiang Zhen wouldn’t come.

Master Zhou set down his axe and prepared to head back.

He had truly gone mad, letting Xiang Zhen’s essay coax him into waiting here day after day.

He should return to his office and plaster missing person posters of Xiang Zhen across the entire world.

…

On August 24th of the solar calendar, exactly one month since Xiang Zhen’s disappearance.

It was the twelfth day of the seventh lunar month, marking the end of the hottest summer period.

A bolt of lightning struck a certain mountain. With a loud BOOM, the top of a giant boulder shattered, sending a sharp-edged fragment crashing down.

Xiang Zhen let out a yelp, dodging the falling stone just in time.

Over the past month, he had been hiding behind this giant boulder, poking his head out whenever he wanted to bask in the sun and retreating into the shade when it got too hot.

On nights when he missed his husband, he would transform into human form, sit atop the boulder, gaze up at the Milky Way, and try to spot which star was Vega and which was Altair.

He didn’t know; he had never studied it.

Xiang Zhen picked at the frayed hole on the knee of his trousers, which had worn down from transforming several times.

He had heard that most stars that shone were main-sequence stars, and the sun was a main-sequence star too, just closest to Earth.

Xiang Zhen opened his eyes to look, feeling that every single star resembled his husband.

—His husband had now turned into a cold, distant star far away from him.

He couldn’t feel his husband’s warmth, nor could he feel the ebb and flow his husband stirred within his body.

Xiang Zhen fell asleep counting the stars that looked like his husband.

…

The stone shattered into pieces on the ground, leaving Xiang Zhen with lingering fear. The lightning had struck so suddenly that when it hit the boulder, it even singed a lock of his hair.

He felt the lightning had come specifically for him. It was clearly a bright, sunny day; whenever it rained and thundered, he would hide in the crevices of the rocks—he wasn’t stupid.

Amidst his shock while clutching his head, Xiang Zhen heard the cracking sound above him and quickly leaped away. Though he dodged it, several sharp stone splinters scraped his fair instep.

Tiny traces of blood trickled down his foot, but Xiang Zhen felt no pain.

As thunder vibrated, all things awakened, and sprites gained enlightenment.

In that lightning-fast moment, Xiang Zhen suddenly caught sight of that brown patch on his sunflower head—it wasn’t an injury! Among the hundreds of tiny flower tubes, one had been successfully fertilized and was currently nurturing a plump, round sunflower seed.

Heaven had bestowed yet another tiny life upon the sunflower.

Xiang Zhen couldn’t believe it. His entire flower head remained perfectly intact with no other changes, sitting in a state of endless full bloom, except for this single seed quietly forming deep within.

He had thought that being a boy meant he couldn’t bear children.

The golden-haired, dark-eyed youth stood barefoot at the edge of the blue-skied cliff, staring blankly at his lower abdomen.

A subtle curve bulged there.

A gust of wind blew past, popping another button off his tattered suit jacket, which clattered all the way down the mountain.

Xiang Zhen blinked, reaching out to gently cover his lower abdomen as he recalled vomiting for the first time two months ago when seeing his husband.

Was this… human morning sickness?

So he actually hadn’t been disgusted by his husband’s wealth? Was it because Zhou Sicheng was always too intense during intimacy, causing his body to develop a self-defense mechanism after becoming pregnant to guard against Zhou Sicheng?

Because his husband was simply too capable.

Xiang Zhen reminisced about every dashing moment of Zhou Sicheng.

The hottest summer period was over. Husband, I’m coming home.