Fourth, Fourth Help me pay the phone bill.

Su Muxue fell silent for a few seconds, digesting the three conditions.

Harsh?

From an official standpoint, they were somewhat demanding.

Especially the second and third clauses—they practically granted Su Qi near-total autonomy, placing him almost entirely outside the official chain of command. It was an easy recipe for unpredictability.

But… did they have a choice?

The reason she had come in the first place was precisely because of Su Qi’s "special ability," which seemed to disregard conventional hierarchies.

Such an ability was either useless or decisive at critical moments.

And Su Qi himself would be taking on immense risks.

"I understand," Su Muxue nodded solemnly. "I’ll relay your conditions verbatim to Guardian Jiang."

Su Qi could tell she was here for serious business, even if her approach had been off.

His tone softened slightly. "Take care. I won’t see you out."

The dismissal couldn’t have been clearer.

Su Muxue didn’t linger. After giving Su Qi one last deep look, she turned and strode away.

But before she’d taken more than a few steps, Su Qi’s voice suddenly called out urgently behind her.

"Fourth! Fourth condition!"

"Help me pay my phone bill!"

Su Muxue: ???

【Joy +666】

……

The sound of Su Muxue’s footsteps faded into the distance until silence returned.

Only Su Qi and Liu Yuan remained in the living room.

Liu Yuan tilted her head up, her small face etched with worry. "Big brother… was that really okay?"

She was referring to Su Qi’s firm stance and the stringent conditions he’d imposed on Su Muxue.

Su Qi reached out and gently ruffled her hair.

"It’s fine," he said, his voice back to its usual warmth. "We just need to live our lives well. As for the rest…"

Beneath the calm surface, however, a flicker of unease passed through his eyes.

"Descendants"… "Martial Exam"… "Deceptions within deceptions"… "Luring the tiger from the mountain"…

These fragments pieced together painted a picture of looming storm clouds.

He really hated trouble.

"Big brother… if it’s too dangerous…"

"I won’t take the Martial Exam."

For Liu Yuan, the exam itself hardly mattered anymore.

Seeing the concern in his sister’s clear eyes, Su Qi felt a warmth in his chest.

He patted her head again.

"Don’t overthink it. Even if you don’t take the exam, I’d probably still go to check things out."

He didn’t elaborate on the pros and cons—some things were better left for her to learn later.

"Oh…" Liu Yuan nodded, not fully understanding but obediently accepting it. Then, abruptly: "Big brother, I’m hungry!"

Su Qi: …

Definitely a little glutton today.

After stashing the "freebie" in his room, Su Qi headed to the kitchen. Soon, the clatter of pots and pans echoed from within.

His cooking skills were… passable. Barely.

For example:

Reheating pre-made meals over boiling water…

Or tossing a no-prep, no-chop "lazy pack" into a pot…

If he actually tried cooking from scratch, his best effort would probably be scrambled eggs with tomatoes.

But back then, they’d always eaten separately.

This was the first time he’d cooked for his sister…

Alone in the living room, Liu Yuan wasn’t sure what to do.

She absentmindedly picked up the long-forgotten remote and turned on the TV.

These days, television felt more like a relic than anything practical.

The screen lit up with a popular fantasy romance drama.

A cast of gorgeous actors, backed by what was rumored to be a billion-dollar production budget for flashy special effects.

Yet the plot was painfully bland, the leads’ chemistry dripping with the artificial sweetness of processed sugar.

The side characters were blatant tools—either plot devices or glorified extras, devoid of any human depth.

Somehow, the emptier the story and the more nonsensical the logic, the higher the ratings and online buzz.

Criticism never stopped, but the paychecks of these idol actors kept soaring, as if trapped in a bizarre cycle.

Meanwhile, veteran actors who actually honed their craft were slowly pushed to the fringes by the market and capital.

What a strange era.

Liu Yuan lost interest and turned it off.

Perched on the sofa, she swung her legs restlessly.

The sudden quiet felt almost oppressive.

Then she remembered something important…

What exactly was that "freebie"?

Curiosity prickled at her like a kitten’s claws.

Her brother had even taken it straight to his room before heading to the kitchen…

Liu Yuan twisted around, her knees sinking into the soft cushions.

Peeking over the backrest, her twin white hair buns swaying, she stole a glance toward the kitchen.

Su Qi’s back was turned, seemingly engrossed in something—probably wouldn’t emerge anytime soon.

But Su Qi’s senses were razor-sharp. The moment he detected her gaze, he abruptly glanced over his shoulder.

Liu Yuan ducked down, heart pounding.

After a full two and a half minutes, she dared another peek.

Su Qi was clearly struggling with the kitchen!

A bold idea sprouted in her mind.

Just one look!

She slid off the sofa soundlessly, her white-stockinged feet barely touching the floor.

Tiptoeing, she sneaked up to Su Qi’s door.

Bad news: It was locked.

Good news: Not fully.

Liu Yuan carefully pressed the handle, easing it downward.

Whether due to her height or fear of making noise, she even rose onto her tiptoes.

Bit by bit…

Until—click.

She froze, shooting a guilty look toward the kitchen.

No reaction from Su Qi.

Pushing the door open just a crack, she peeked inside.

Her brother’s room… wasn’t what she’d imagined.

Not messy, but far from tidy.

The bed was still unmade, blankets haphazardly piled to one side.

The desk was relatively clean—a few stacked books, and in the center, the "untouchable slide"…

Ahem, aka Su Qi’s computer.

The window was open, curtains fluttering in the breeze.

Liu Yuan’s eyes darted around the room.

Where was the "freebie"?

It had been in a plain paper bag, neither too big nor small.

Her gaze landed first under the desk.

Nothing.

Then the wardrobe.

She nudged it open a sliver—a few of Su Qi’s everyday clothes hung inside, with a pile of yellowed, long-unworn ones at the bottom.

Not there either.

Nightstand?

Just a charger and two snack packs that looked past their prime.

Under the bed?

After a brief hesitation, she crouched and peered beneath.

Only dust.

Weird…