The nomination for the Chen Award was not the end of Wen Ziying’s nightmare.
Half a month later, Xia Yu saw the news of Wen Ziying winning the Chen Award on a news feed.
He mourned for Wen Ziying for two seconds before closing the article.
Compared to Wen Ziying’s situation, Zhumei’s matter was more troubling to him now. It wasn’t because Zhumei was disobedient—she hadn’t shown any intention to act improperly, aside from her helpless bear-hugging antics, and had otherwise been quite well-behaved.
What troubled Xia Yu was the stance of District 14. Publicly, the uproar over the king’s assassination attempt had already passed, but pressure from District 14 had only increased. They were determined to bring Zhumei in for investigation.
Taking out his phone, Xia Yu called Yu Ningmeng to ask about how things were progressing.
“The anti-king faction has completely overwhelmed the pro-king side now. They’re eager to finalize Zhumeng Bing’s charges, so they just want Zhumei to go through the motions—they promise nothing will happen to her,” Yu Ningmeng explained their demands.
“What do you think?” Xia Yu asked, as he wasn’t skilled in these matters.
“I suggest allowing Zhumei to go along with the investigation. Our delegation will accompany her, so there shouldn’t be any problems,” Yu Ningmeng replied.
Xia Yu frowned. Although they said there would be no issues, who could really be sure?
Zhumeng Bing was just too good at running. If District 14 had captured him, they wouldn’t have turned to Zhumei instead. Still, you couldn’t really blame Zhumeng Bing—he was carrying a frame job.
“Haven’t they considered that it might have been the reactionary forces from District 232?” Xia Yu asked Yu Ningmeng.
“They only consider who’s easy to pin it on,” Yu Ningmeng hinted that the anti-king faction didn’t want external conflicts.
“Can we keep stalling?” Xia Yu tried to negotiate. “The medicine has already been produced in one version and is undergoing clinical trials.”
“So quickly into clinical trials already? How effective is it?” Yu Ningmeng’s attention was drawn elsewhere.
After listening to Xia Yu’s explanation about the drug, she consulted someone else and told him that delaying further wouldn’t be a problem.
After hanging up, Xia Yu relaxed.
He walked out of the bedroom and asked a maid to bring him a cup of coffee, sipping it while browsing recent games, thinking about which one to play.
When he finished his coffee, An Siyao and the others returned from shopping.
Zhumei pushed Xu Youxiang into the bedroom, and Hu Lianglu followed An Siyao inside.
Two minutes later, Zhumei came out. She walked behind the sofa and leaned down, hugging Xia Yu’s neck.
Xia Yu showed no reaction, continuing to browse the game store and watching gameplay videos online.
Feeling the moment was right, Zhumei reached her hand toward Xia Yu’s abdomen.
Xia Yu grabbed her hand: “No.”
He didn’t understand—his stomach wasn’t as soft as a bear’s, so what was the point of touching it?
“Why not?” Zhumei leaned close to his face and asked.
“Physical contact determines intimacy. I can switch to the golden eagle’s body for you to touch instead,” Xia Yu explained.
“So An Siyao and Xu Youxiang can touch you then?” Zhumei looked into Xia Yu’s eyes.
“Because they’re different from you,” Xia Yu replied.
“An Siyao might be different, but can’t Xu Youxiang be the same?” Zhumei muttered.
Her meaning was clear: An Siyao could become a wife, but Xu Youxiang couldn’t.
Xia Yu was also troubled by this. After hearing Zhumei’s words, he immediately lost interest in the games.
Sensing Xia Yu’s sadness, Zhumei reached out and gently patted his head: “It would have been better if you were in District 232.”
Marriage had no restrictions in District 232.
“It’s not about the district, but about people’s opinions around us,” Xia Yu explained.
“So you mean we need to make the people around us accept this?” Zhumei pondered.
“More or less that’s what I mean,” Xia Yu replied, putting his phone back into his pocket and standing up.
He returned to his room.
Zhumei didn’t follow. She sat where Xia Yu had just been, lost in thought.
Looking out the window, she saw two white clouds drifting from the south to the north, disappearing from sight. The sun also set from the sky, and night fell.
At dinner time, Xia Yu came out of his room and saw Zhumei holding her suitcase.
“I think it’s better if I go to District 14 myself,” Zhumei said.
“Did Yu Ningmeng tell you that?” Xia Yu rubbed his forehead.
“No, she didn’t ask me to go. I just feel it’s better to go and settle things properly,” Zhumei looked at her suitcase, her fingers feeling the surface of the handle.
Xia Yu thought deeply. Since Yu Ningmeng said there would be no problem, it probably wouldn’t go wrong. Even if something did happen, it would most likely just be detention—nothing life-threatening.
At that point, he could use the golden eagle’s body to threaten whoever illegally detained Zhumei and successfully rescue the girl.
He nodded and agreed to Zhumei’s decision, driving her to the airport.
Using his mind sense, he checked the bodyguards assigned to protect Zhumei, confirming there were no traitors among them, before returning home.
By then, it was already 11 PM. He quickly took a shower, used his daily game-time opportunity, and arrived at Wen Ziying’s place.
After a moment of darkness, Xia Yu saw a pile of blank pages.
Looking around, there was nothing but blank pages—Wen Ziying hadn’t written a single word.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked her.
“I’m just having such a hard time,” Wen Ziying replied in a voice devoid of hope.
“Maybe you should just focus on writing a good book?” Xia Yu thought. Perhaps he should change his approach to completing his mission—guiding Wen Ziying’s life rather than trying to lead her away from writing. He could instead guide her toward positive, productive writing.
He picked up the pen: “You’re thinking about a new book. Want to discuss it together?”
“The publishing house didn’t set any special requirements, just wants something meaningful and adaptable for adaptations,” Wen Ziying said.
“Then how about a story about a muggle becoming a wizard?” Xia Yu casually borrowed an idea.
“No, that’s too shallow,” Wen Ziying rejected the suggestion.
“Want depth? Then how about a legendary story spanning seven generations, depicting a fictional history?” Xia Yu mentioned the concept of *One Hundred Years of Solitude*.
“That sounds too boring. Who these days wants to read something like that?” Wen Ziying rejected it again.
Still aiming for popularity?
Xia Yu then mentioned *The Three-Body Problem*.
“Science fiction? But I don’t understand that!” Wen Ziying criticized again.
He continued suggesting other books, but Wen Ziying rejected them all.
“What exactly do you want then!” Xia Yu almost got angry enough to go take a shower.
Wen Ziying was silent for a while, her voice filled with confusion: “Maybe I should just retire from writing. Can you still get me that translation job?”
Xia Yu was surprised. He had already prepared to change strategies, but after going in a full circle, he ended up back where he started?
“What made you think this way?” Xia Yu asked, puzzled.
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