Tang Wen reached the door of Ziye’s room and knocked. Once, no answer.

He knocked again, and still, no one responded. He pressed his ear close, unable to detect any movement from inside.

Back when the soundproofing of windows and doors hadn't reached its zenith, people felt their privacy was compromised. Now that doors and windows boast near-perfect insulation, those same busybodies begin to grumble about how too effective the soundproofing is...

Tang Wen felt deeply wounded lately. That heartless Ziye, having An Junlie, had immediately tossed him aside, ignoring him completely!

In the span of his twenty-plus years, he had always been the one courted; it was his role to give others the cold shoulder. No one, not even his father, had ever given him the cold shoulder.

And now, he was being utterly dismissed by a young girl! What was he supposed to do?

Tang Wen’s consciousness automatically split in two. One side argued: Don't be too forward, or she’ll look down on you.

The other side countered: You must be proactive, or An Junlie will snatch her away. The two sides wrestled back and forth until Tang Wen grew agitated.

He picked up his comm unit, intending to dial Blan’s number. As he unlocked the screen, he suddenly realized—why was he calling Blan?

Why not just call Ziye’s comm directly! He made a swift decision and dialed Ziye’s number.

To his surprise, it wouldn't connect. The system's response was: “The number you have dialed is outside the service area.” For the first time in his life, Tang Wen felt the urge to smash the door down.

She was clearly inside the room, yet the damn comm unit claimed she was out of service range! He gave up on Ziye’s number and tried Blan’s instead.

To his mounting fury, that line was also unreachable, yielding the exact same reply. Now, Tang Wen didn't just want to smash the door; he wanted to throw his comm unit against the wall!

He leaned against the door in pathetic sorrow, his hand weakly tapping the wood, then letting it drop, tapping again. Suddenly, the door opened from within.

Tang Wen instantly straightened up, regaining his composure and elegant demeanor. However, Ziye was not the one who opened the door.

He blinked as a small doll flew down from the top of the doorframe and made a face at him. Tang Wen suddenly found Little Sprout quite endearing and smiled, “Where is your Ziye?” Little Sprout flapped its wings and replied, “If you bribe me, I’ll tell you.” Tang Wen feigned arrogance, “I won't.” Little Sprout folded its wings and bumped right into his nose.

Tang Wen quickly raised a hand to block it, but Little Sprout simply settled down in his palm, chilling out leisurely, “Really?” Tang Wen pinched his fingers slightly, “Or?” Little Sprout immediately flattened into a bean sprout, its wings flapping anxiously, “You can’t bully people like that! Waaah, I’m going to tell Ziye the little dummy that you bullied me!” Tang Wen remained unmoved.

Little Sprout continued its threat, “If you keep harassing this great master, I’ll badmouth you in front of Ziye every single day!” “Badmouthing who?” Ziye emerged from the bathroom after her shower, hearing Little Sprout’s voice, and walked over. Her hair wasn't very long, and after washing, it draped over her shoulders like a straight waterfall.

It was only half-dry, and the tiny droplets clinging to the ends of her hair were so crystalline they seemed to glow. Holding a towel, her pure face flushed a soft pink as she stepped out of the bathroom, her beautiful eyes clear and moist.

She was wearing a very wide, off-white bathrobe, cinched at the waist, making her middle appear exceptionally slender, fully embodying a young girl’s subtle allure and texture. Tang Wen awkwardly shifted his gaze away for two seconds before returning, his tone tinged with pity, “I called your comm, and you didn’t pick up.” Ziye shot him a look, “This place naturally blocks comm signals.

Did you forget?” Tang Wen lowered his head innocently, “I forgot.” Ziye sighed, “I knew it. Without Blan by your side, you can’t survive.” Tang Wen nearly suffered an internal injury.

In her eyes, was he just a child who needed constant care? Ziye tossed the towel aside and pushed him toward the door, “Hurry back and clean yourself up.

Don’t you hate being dirty? You have insect eggs all over you; be careful they don't decide to settle down on your body.” As she pushed him a few steps, Tang Wen suddenly turned back, his expression incredibly serious.

“Ziye, when you lived with him before, did you wear clothes like that too?” Ziye paused in stunned silence for a beat, then raised her hand and smacked the top of his head, “What exactly is going on in that head of yours?” Receiving no answer, Tang Wen retreated to his room, looking pitiful and despondent. Ziye returned to her own room, dried her hair, washed and scrubbed Little Sprout until it was clean, dried it too, changed her clothes, and then dashed downstairs: “Alien, is the Tiger Head Feast ready?” An Junlie emerged from the kitchen at the sound of her voice, suppressing a smile as he saw her whirlwind entrance, “Almost ready.

Sit down for a moment first.” Ziye sat obediently at the dining table. “Okay.” The table was still bare for the moment.

Ziye propped her chin on her hands for a while, inhaling the rich aroma wafting from the kitchen, her stomach beginning to rumble loudly. Becoming restless, she asked the kitchen robot to bring out the tableware first.

Holding her utensils, she stared with longing eyes at An Junlie’s silhouette in the kitchen, pouting slightly, “Alien, I’m hungry…” Tang Wen descended the stairs just in time to see Ziye sprawled across the table, acting spoiled. His usually refined face darkened by a shade, and he turned to head back upstairs.

Ziye, clutching her cutlery and on the verge of charging into the kitchen, was stopped as An Junlie emerged with a large bowl of soup, placing it before her with a gentle smile, “Drink this first. You’ll have your meal shortly after.” Inhaling the deep, meaty fragrance, Ziye felt completely healed.

The greatest joy in the world was having a steaming bowl of rich meat presented when one craved it... Ziye sharpened her intentions, ready to dig in, but An Junlie quickly stopped her, “It’s hot.

Let it cool a bit.” Ziye puffed out her cheeks and glared at him—the inability to eat what one can clearly see was the most annoying thing! She looked left and right, studying the texture and muscle density of the tiger meat in the bowl.

The more she "studied" it, the more saliva she produced. She couldn't hold back, jumping up, “Tang the big bastard hasn’t come out yet.

I’ll go find him.” Out of sight, out of mind. After leaving the dining table, Ziye swallowed hard, finally suppressing the urge to devour the meat.

She ran upstairs and knocked thunderously, “Hey, Tang the big bastard, time to eat!” Tang Wen was sulking in his room and paid no mind to Ziye banging on the door like a tremor. Assuming he was still washing up, Ziye let her imagination run wild, “You didn’t drown in the bathtub, did you?” Tang Wen’s face grew grayer and grayer.

Ziye sighed, “Don’t worry, I’ll call A121 to help you.” She opened her comm unit, about to summon A121, when the door swung open from the inside. Tang Wen appeared before her, his expression icy cold.

Ziye noticed his mood was vastly different from when they were in the forest and couldn't help but ask, “Are you unwell?” Tang Wen proudly turned his face away, refusing to answer. Ziye really wanted to pat his head, but he was too tall.

She settled instead for tugging the corner of his coat, soothing him, “There, there, the alien’s cooking is really good. After we eat, I’ll go into space with you to find that suicidal weirdo.

He can cure any intractable ailment.” Tang Wen’s eyes finally brightened slightly, “We’re going back to space?” Ziye nodded, “Yes. Your wish is fulfilled, and we got the Base Tiger Gall.

In a couple of days, the Sprout Group opens for sales, and we have other matters to attend to; we can’t stay here any longer.” Her use of “we” hit the sweet spot for Tang Wen, making him much happier. “Fine, we’ll go back after we eat.” Hmph—once Ziye leaves, An Junlie, even if he nests in the cuckoo’s spot, will be meaningless!

In the dining room, the tiger meat soup had cooled slightly. The thoughtful An Junlie had already portioned a bowl for Tang Wen, and five other dishes now adorned the table.

Ziye’s craving was instantly rekindled. She trotted eagerly to her seat and loudly asked, “Alien, can I drink now?” An Junlie, having just set down the final dish, smiled, “You can eat now.” Tang Wen watched their easy exchange—it felt like a world belonging only to the two of them, leaving him as an outsider.

He snorted softly internally and moved to claim his own bowl, “I want this one.” Ziye was startled by his shamelessness. She used both hands to shield her bowl, “You have your own; you are not allowed to steal mine!” Tang Wen persisted, “I just want yours.” Ziye hopped two steps away, hugging the bowl, “No, this is mine; you can’t have it.” After a moment’s thought, she added, “Seeing as you’re the patient, I can spare you a small piece.” An Junlie had initially considered Tang Wen a major rival, but seeing him and Ziye squabbling like two underdeveloped children over food, he suddenly felt a weight lift from his chest.

In a certain sense, Tang Wen was of the same kind as Ziye. They both possessed extraordinary talent regarding mecha, were equally high in IQ but low in EQ, couldn't cook, and shared childish temperaments...

In his view, all children deserved to be spoiled. Although Tang Wen was just as tall as he was, in that moment, An Junlie saw him as a child, just like Ziye.

No matter how well two children played together, they wouldn’t end up together. Because they weren't the people each other truly needed.

He was confident that he was the person Ziye needed. He possessed the qualities Ziye lacked!

An Junlie sat down across from Tang Wen and smiled faintly, “Let’s eat; the dishes are getting cold.” Ziye scurried back to her spot and stingily picked a small piece of tiger meat from her bowl, dropping it into Tang Wen’s bowl, muttering, “This is all I can give you; eat it.” Tang Wen glanced at Ziye, then stealthily peeked at An Junlie. Seeing An Junlie sitting composedly like Jiang Taigong waiting for his fish, he temporarily called a truce and began to eat.

The rich yet non-greasy tiger meat soup hit his palate, and Tang Wen’s taste buds were instantly conquered. He suddenly understood why Ziye was so kind to An Junlie; no true epicurean could resist the temptation of a master chef!

If An Junlie had been an ordinary man, Tang Wen would certainly have tried every means to poach him as a personal cook. Ziye finished her large bowl of soup, licking her lips with deep satisfaction, and said with immense pleasure, “Tang the big bastard, isn’t the alien’s cooking especially delicious?” Tang Wen had already admitted it in his heart, but admit the skill of his romantic rival?

Hmph, not a chance! “It’s alright…” he began, but Ziye glared at him, brewing an increasingly potent anger in her gaze.

He immediately corrected himself, “A bit better than alright.” An Junlie looked up and offered a slight smile, “I am honored.” Tang Wen stared at him, their gazes meeting once more, sparking intense friction!