Chu Ren stared intently at Bai Qi from afar. Having shared a bed with him for over a decade, he had never known that Bai Qi had two younger brothers.

Thinking back, it was indeed strange. He had brought up bringing Li Guihua to the city for her retirement several times, but she had never been willing, showing rather weak maternal feelings.

Yet this brotherhood that had popped up out of nowhere… was deeply affectionate and surprisingly exclusive.

Noticing that Bai Qi was the only one drinking that cup of coffee, Chu Ren thought with suspicion: Were Xiang Zhen and Dou Manning ganging up to feed Bai Qi some kind of potion? When they went home tonight, would Bai Qi suddenly develop a hatred for capitalists too?

“Watch,” Chu Ren declared. He wanted to see what kind of trickery was going on.

Shen Ku added, “I have no objection.”

Though both were illiterate, Dou Manning enjoyed reading books in his spare time, meaning his knowledge updates weren’t as fast as Xiang Zhen’s short-video scrolling, nor were they as sharp as Bai Qi’s early exposure to human society. As a result, he was constantly being brainwashed by the other two. Hearing Xiang Zhen tell Dou Manning to stand in the rain when pregnant, Shen Ku suddenly understood the ancient story of Mencius’ mother moving three times for her child’s education.

Xiang Zhen alone was enough of a headache; now there was Bai Qi from the entertainment industry as well. Shen Ku didn’t dare predict what kind of brainwashing Dou Manning would end up with.

However, Zhou Sicheng suddenly spoke up: “I object.”

Xiang Zhen was innocent and pure, pouring his heart out to his friends and telling them everything. Whenever he learned a rare word, he absolutely refused to let Dou Manning remain illiterate, sincerely exchanging knowledge with his friend. His customer-service-minded wife was the most talkative person alive; one simple question and all his inner thoughts came tumbling out, unlike others who always held back with hidden motives.

Xiang Zhen’s adorable words were meant for his ears only—why should they be broadcast to anyone else?

These three deep, calculating men thus cherished their own wives like treasures while indiscriminately guarding against everyone else’s wives like bad influences.

Fate had matched their wives with two illiterate rivals, while matching themselves with two useless teammates.

The Anti-Illiteracy Alliance instantly collapsed into internal strife.

Chu Ren found it absurd: “Zhou Sicheng, how are you so fickle?”

Zhou Sicheng replied, “We didn’t sign a contract.”

Aside from his eternal love for Xiang Zhen, Zhou Sicheng was a thoroughly fickle man.

Shen Ku sighed, “If it doesn’t work out, let’s just disband. Either way, I’ve known Manning for the shortest amount of time; I have plenty of time ahead.”

The two men present—one who had known his partner for ten years, and the other who was getting engaged today—felt subtly targeted.

“Wait,” Zhou Sicheng summoned the Little Sunflower robot. “Little Sunflower, connect to camera number K08, monitor and transcribe the chat contents of those three. You don’t need to send me the full transcript—just summarize and filter out any contents that violate human common sense.”

“Pay special attention to whether they are plotting plans that defy human nature, science, or harmony in marriage.”

“Keep it brief and concise, no extra fluff, no speculation, and make sure to filter out private bedroom talk.”

“Okay, master! Analyzing now,” Little Sunflower replied obediently. The little sunflower atop its round head wobbled left and right at a high frequency—the faster it moved, the more complex the content being analyzed.

Zhou Sicheng had already modified Little Sunflower’s underlying code to accept that “two men can marry and have a child,” so it would no longer make inexperienced comments regarding Xiang Zhen’s pregnancy.

He curled his lips in complete physical and mental satisfaction. Technology changes lives. Eavesdropping was shameless, but if handled by AI, it was foolproof—at worst, Little Sunflower could take the blame.

Thirty seconds later, Little Sunflower shook its sunflower head, read the non-human content, and promptly broadcasted: “Master, your wife is a spirit.”

Zhou Sicheng lowered his head to stare at the robotic Little Sunflower, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pierce through its code processing.

Is your CPU alright?

Little Sunflower had followed its master around social interactions earlier, so the identities and relationships of everyone present were already entered into its database. It turned toward Shen Ku.

“Your wife is a spirit too.”

Shen Ku frowned: “Is it lagging?”

Chu Ren couldn’t stop laughing, resting his palm on the table. How are there so many jokes around Zhou Sicheng?

“Zhou Sicheng, is this your company’s product? To think I bought a top-tier model just to remind my wife to eat and drink water on time.”

Little Sunflower spoke with utmost seriousness: “Don’t laugh, your wife is a spirit as well.”

Chu Ren: “Ha.”

Shen Ku: “…”

Zhou Sicheng: “…What kind of spirit?”

Little Sunflower: “I don’t know~”

Zhou Sicheng sighed. You really are disappointing. Just because I said to monitor for anti-human, unscientific content, you go ahead and invent a spirit for your father?

Logically speaking, after several iterations, Little Sunflower was no longer supposed to play along with users’ nonsense.

Zhou Sicheng was already used to losing face.

Yet the truth still needed to be investigated.

Zhou Sicheng asked, “What are they doing right now?”

Little Sunflower answered, “They are watching The Legend of White Snake.”

Zhou Sicheng finally realized where the “spirit” answer had come from.

Chu Ren noted, “The spirit is Xu Xian’s wife.”

Zhou Sicheng remarked offhandedly, “Don’t jump to conclusions too early; Bai Qi’s surname is Bai too.”

Chu Ren raised an eyebrow: “They must be watching through Bai Qi’s account. President Zhou, your wife has truly suffered without a VIP membership.”

Zhou Sicheng countered, “Childish. It might not even be him who wanted to watch; Xiang Zhen only likes watching short videos.”

If Xiang Zhen enjoyed long dramas—if he had ever watched a show in bed instead of stepping on his abs while scrolling through short videos—Zhou Sicheng would have remembered to buy him a tablet and a top-tier SSVIP membership long ago.

Shen Ku felt complete despair over having two executives in a three-man team.

Damn it, the construction site hated this situation the most—not a single person actually doing real work.

Over by the coffee table.

The three gathered around to watch the show Bai Qi mentioned, observing the scene where Xu Xian was scared to death by the transformed snake spirit.

Bai Qi dragged the progress bar: “Starting from here.”

Back then, every summer, major TV stations broadcasted The Legend of White Snake on loop. The moment Bai Qi turned on the TV, he was forced to watch it several times.

Xiang Zhen stared at the dated, low-res picture quality, his phone screen reflecting a somber small face.

If they scared their husbands to death, they wouldn’t have husbands anymore.

Then they wouldn’t be able to stay in the city, and the widowed little spirit would have to return to Spirit Village covered in dust, bid farewell to Auntie Guihua, and go back into the mountains to live in the wild.

Xiang Zhen’s eyelashes fluttered. He couldn’t be separated from his husband; one month was already his absolute limit. The plot was too heart-wrenching, so he pulled out his phone, opened a short-video app, and swallowed a super-fast recap version whole.

Seeing the happy ending at last, Xiang Zhen breathed a sigh of relief.

“Bai Qi, are you really not planning to tell Chu Ren at all?”

Bai Qi narrowed his long, slender eyes. He had always disguised himself extremely well—a successfully socialized spirit with no risk of involuntary transformation and no need for voluntary transformation.

His relationship with Chu Ren was stable; there was no need to introduce unnecessary variables.

Xiang Zhen had a sudden brainwave and instructed, “Just in case you get caught, carry a baby like Bai Suzhen did! The child is the key to resolving the crisis. When the baby grows up, have them take the civil service exam, and Chu Ren will forgive everything!”

Bai Qi froze. Was that how the show went? Ever since he discovered he could freely choose what to watch on the Changsheng Media app without waiting for TV channels, he had quietly avoided all White Snake themes.

With too many dramas stuffed into his head, Bai Qi couldn’t quite remember clearly.

Bai Qi said, “It’s very difficult for a spirit to conceive a human’s child.”

Xiang Zhen replied, “But I’m pregnant, and my husband is getting suspicious.”

Bai Qi’s eyes widened in shock: “A spirit getting pregnant triggers a heavenly lightning tribulation!”

“Ah.”

Xiang Zhen touched his golden hair, which was now a section shorter, realizing belatedly that the reason he got struck by lightning on a clear, sunny day was because of a lightning tribulation.

He had felt like that lightning was aimed straight at him; thank goodness the large stone had helped block a strike for him.

Bai Qi observed, “The baby in your belly is a lucky little spirit baby.”

Xiang Zhen urged hurriedly, “Then you two shouldn’t get pregnant!”

Xiang Zhen looked at Dou Manning apologetically: “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have urged you to get pregnant. Whether I confess or not has nothing to do with your pregnancy anyway—you should quickly let Shen Ku get that vasectomy.”

Bai Qi added, “Maybe it’s not strictly necessary, I’ve been fine for ten years… though forget it, maybe you plant spirits fertilize more easily, so a vasectomy is safer.”

Dou Manning thought it over and decided there was no need to risk getting pregnant: “Alright, I won’t stop him from getting a vasectomy anymore.”

Shen Ku ignored the bickering management duo, crouching down to communicate patiently with the robot: “Besides spirits, did they reach any other conclusions?”

Little Sunflower reported, “They unanimously agreed that you should get a vasectomy.”

Shen Ku: “…”

Although this topic was absurd, it was far more reasonable than spirits.

Chu Ren: “?”

Wait, meeting for the first time and they’re already discussing bedroom matters? That was completely out of his wife’s character.

Zhou Sicheng sat on the single sofa, his dark, unreadable gaze shifting back and forth between robotic Little Sunflower and Xiang Zhen.

“Shen Ku, Chu Ren, have either of you ever seen your wives’ physical abilities?”

The moment those words left his mouth, both Shen Ku and Chu Ren fell silent.

Vaguely, it felt a bit hard to put into words.

Chu Ren recalled, “Once, I almost got into a car accident, and Bai Qi pulled me back.”

Zhou Sicheng proposed, “Let’s run an experiment.”

Chu Ren asked, “How do we test it?”

Zhou Sicheng came up with an idea: “You jump down from the third floor. I’m certain Bai Qi will catch you.”

Chu Ren snapped, “Why don’t you jump?!”

Zhou Sicheng remained silent. His wife was pregnant; how could he put his wife through a test?

Unfortunately, despite such a brilliant plan, no one was willing to make the sacrifice.

Zhou Sicheng picked up a glass of pear-white liquor. He hadn’t drunk any alcohol today, yet why did he feel intoxicated?

When science failed to explain things, seeking answers in metaphysics was entirely normal, wasn’t it? Zhou Sicheng didn’t mind making a fool of himself over superstition one more time.

“Little Sunflower, answer me again: is Xiang Zhen a spirit?”

Little Sunflower wobbled its flower: “Yes, master! Based on their conversation, Baby Xiang Zhen and Dou Manning are plant spirits~”

Zhou Sicheng’s grip on the glass tightened abruptly.

He remembered seeing Xiang Zhen’s essay back at Li Guihua’s home—I am a sunflower in the Daxing’anling Mountains.

He remembered in the rented apartment, beside Xiang Zhen, those sunflowers planted in tiny milk tea buckets that grew wildly vigorous nonetheless.

Zhou Sicheng had raised sunflowers before; he had understood them since childhood.

He remembered his wife vanishing after leaping into the bed of sunflowers, and that night when standing amidst the flowers, he had intensely felt his wife’s presence.

He even remembered the biological trait of sunflowers stopping their rotation toward the sun after setting seeds—and how Xiang Zhen hadn’t dared to look at him.

Was he the sun that Xiang Zhen’s eyes eternally pursued?

The sun forged all life on Earth; no human dared to compare themselves to the sun.

Was this Xiang Zhen’s deeper, more passionate form of love?

Seeing Zhou Sicheng’s expression gradually turn solemn, Shen Ku and Chu Ren also fell into silent recollection.

Among them, Zhou Sicheng possessed the strongest ability to analyze and predict the bigger picture.

If Zhou Sicheng was taking it seriously, how could they remain blindly ignorant?

What if… what if… what if?

Their worldview crashed down and shattered into pieces.

Xiang Zhen said, “Then let’s come up with a story. I want to confess to my husband that I’m a spirit without dragging you guys down.”

“How about I say I cultivated into a spirit later in life?”

Reversing the narrative would make him seem hardworking and remarkable, sharing the same roots with humans.

Bai Qi’s screenwriter brain kicked in: “That works. We’ll say the three of us orphans had exceptional innate talents since childhood, taken in and taught to cultivate by Auntie Guihua’s father. But only you succeeded in becoming a spirit, while we failed and went out to work.”

Auntie Guihua’s father had passed away ten years ago, leaving no living witnesses.

Xiang Zhen said, “I’ll call Auntie Guihua to align our stories.”

Li Guihua answered while playing mahjong, “Got it, Zhen’er! My dad’s nickname was Master Li—what a coincidence, right?”

Xiang Zhen asked further, “Auntie Guihua, does a spirit getting pregnant get struck by lightning?”

Li Guihua advised, “Don’t worry! During the first three months of pregnancy, stay in the city where there are lightning rods, and don’t go out into the wild.”

Xiang Zhen replied, “It’s fine, Auntie. I’ve already been struck.”

Li Guihua asked, “Are you hurt? It shouldn’t be too severe, just scary.”

Xiang Zhen said, “No, I’m completely fine.”

Xiang Zhen hung up the phone and turned to Manning and Bai Qi: “Let’s go with that story.”

“Three spirits are enough to form a party branch! We can hold meetings to discuss issues whenever we have them in the future.”

Holding meetings felt so good.

Xiang Zhen brought over two glasses of juice, handing one to Manning: “Quench your thirst.”

Bai Qi declared, “I’ll buy a house specifically dedicated to holding our meetings.”

Known in the industry as the man behind Chu Ren and the golden touch for hit dramas, he had earned a lot of money himself and invested quite a bit into the Spirit Foundation.

“Bai Qi, when you and Chu Ren join forces, running a family business is the most profitable!” Xiang Zhen swore. “I want to become someone who stands shoulder to shoulder with the Sun God too!”

Bai Qi was puzzled: “There are sun spirits too?”

“It’s my husband,” Xiang Zhen said with complete seriousness.

Zhou Sicheng had never denied being the Sun God.

He just was.