Chapter 140

The reason Su Huaijing only told Rong Tang about Tongtong on the fourteenth of the third month was because he was worried that if Rong Tang found out too early, he’d start looking forward to it, become restless, and wouldn’t be able to settle down.

But by the next day, it became clear that even this timing might’ve been too early.

The young prince, who usually never got out of bed before the sun was well up, opened his eyes just after the second cockcrow, when the sundial marked the early hours of the Yin period. Still half-asleep, he blinked a few times and stared blankly at a fixed spot in the sky.

Su Huaijing hadn’t even woken yet, but Rong Tang, after a dazed pause, instinctively shuffled over and snuggled into his arms.

Tangtang was obedient as ever, letting him mess around, and as the mood slowly turned more intimate, he suddenly asked, “Did Tongtong say when it was coming back? Why haven’t I seen it yet?”

“…”

Whatever feelings Su Huaijing had been hiding instantly deflated by half. For a moment, he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or resigned. After a long silence, he admitted, “Should be this evening. Last month it only turned up after dinner.”

“Oh.” Rong Tang yawned and wriggled under the covers, then, without much emotion but still not perfunctory, gave Su Huaijing a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll keep sleeping then. Make sure you nap on the way to court later.”

“…”

The main villain was quiet for a long while, then let out a helpless, bitter smile. In the end, he consoled himself. At least Tangtang still remembered to kiss him and sweet-talk him a little, so he wouldn’t get too jealous and lose his balance entirely.

Rong Tang spent the entire day waiting, too distracted to focus on anything. As dusk fell and the moon climbed the treetops, he went for a walk, then locked himself in his room. Su Huaijing, sensing the mood, sensibly withdrew to the study to handle some paperwork.

Thus, His Highness, Young Prince Rong brewed a pot of tea, picked up a storybook, and quietly waited for the system to appear.

The moment the last sliver of twilight faded from the sky, the candlelight on his desk briefly flickered and stilled. Rong Tang paused, blinking, and finally felt the tightness in his chest ease.

He had waited all day, but now that it was here, there was no rush.

He set down his book, took a sip of tea, and said softly, “Come out.”

His tone was cool. Nothing like how the young prince usually spoke to anyone.

But after the words fell, there was only silence. The system didn’t respond.

Rong Tang sighed quietly and asked, with faint resignation, “Are you unbinding from me and off to find someone else to help your male protagonist?”

“I am not!” a childish voice suddenly piped up right in front of him.

Rong Tang blinked. Two seconds later, a glowing orb materialised out of thin air, hovering right in front of his nose.

It had no face, just a puffed-up little ball of light, bouncing furiously in place and shedding sparkly motes with every jolt. “I’m not helping that stupid male protagonist!”

Rong Tang glanced at the falling light particles on his desk, then back at the puffed-up little system. After a brief hesitation, he couldn’t help himself. He reached out and gave the ball a good, satisfying squish, just like fluffing a cotton ball.

The system’s voice broke into panicked shrieks: “T—Tang—Tang—what are you doing?!”

It was furious… but it was also adorable.

The more Rong Tang kneaded it, the more relaxed he became. The system gave up struggling after a short bout and simply let him get on with it.

Eventually, when he’d had his fill of playing, Rong Tang cradled the glowing orb in his palms and gently stroked the soft fuzz along its edges. “Where have you been all this time?” he asked.

The system went quiet for two seconds. “Secret.”

Rong Tang narrowed his eyes slightly, fingers twitching, but didn’t press. Instead, he asked offhandedly, “So why are you here today?”

“…Because today’s the only day I can come,” the system mumbled.

If it had been using its old robotic voice, such hesitation would’ve come across as guilty. But now, with the sound of a child and the look of a fuzzy lightball, even its lack of confidence came across as endearing.

Rong Tang suspected he might be wearing rose-tinted glasses, but he just couldn’t stop himself from wanting to pet the system. Even the righteous indignation he’d prepped earlier was now hard to hold onto.

He coughed twice, trying to sound stern. “You can come on the fifteenth of every month?”

“Mhm.” The system bounced in his hand, the nod turning into a whole-body jump. “I can sneak through when there’s a full moon.”

Rong Tang: “…”

What now? I can’t even stay mad…

He reined in his urge to squish it again and asked, “Then why didn’t you come on the fifteenth of the first month?”

The little lightball wilted mid-bounce, collapsing in his palm like a deflated dream. It spoke in a tearful, pitiful voice, “I thought… you didn’t want to see me.”

Rong Tang: “…”

He asked, “Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”

“No,” the system said miserably. “I got forced out on New Year’s Eve.”

Just in time to see Sheng Chengli’s eyes trembling in confusion, right as it wanted to say sorry to Tangtang. Then boom, ejected from the system space.

Rong Tang was surprised. That possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind.

He hesitated, then asked again, “Still not going to tell me where you went?”

The system: “…”

Silence fell again. After a while, Rong Tang sighed and murmured, “Forget it. Doesn’t matter.”

He twirled the system round in his hand twice and asked, “Did anyone bully you?”

The system trembled, then suddenly couldn’t hold it in. Little glowing tears began to fall, as it sobbed incoherently, “N-no… I just went to pick fights with people…”

Rong Tang sighed and caught it in one hand, stretching out the other to catch the falling light droplets, until he had another cluster of light about half the system’s size glowing in his palm.

He waited a moment. The little cluster didn’t fade or dim.

Raising a brow, he got up and took a piece of gauzy fabric from the wardrobe, then bundled the lights up carefully.

The system, hiccupping through the tail end of its crying, asked, “Tangtang, what are you doing?”

Rong Tang held up the cloth bundle and grinned. “Look—electric lights!”

System: “…”

Rong Tang said, “Give me a bit more before you go, yeah? Save some energy, use fewer candles.”

System: “…What is wrong with you.”

It turned around, full of grievance and irritation. Rong Tang rubbed its face and asked with a grin, “Still feel like crying?”

System: “I’m not saving you candle money. May you be broke forever. Then you won’t have to waste it on that scummy man or keep fretting about leaving him an inheritance!”

Rong Tang couldn’t help laughing. “I’ll leave some for you too. Our poor little Tongzi’s been so wronged.”

“It’s Daddy Tong,” the system corrected him, using a cutesy three-year-old voice. Rong Tang had no choice but to indulge it: “Alright then, Daddy Tong.”

“Hmph—” The system perked up a little, mood stabilising somewhat. Rong Tang waited for it to speak again. After a moment, it piped up: “Once I realised I couldn’t get back, I wanted to go and settle things with the mainframe. That big idiot… lied to me and lied to you too.”

Rong Tang: “That rhymed. Daddy Tong, you’re brilliant.”

The system paused, and two pink dots of light appeared at the top of its glowing little dumpling body. Rong Tang finally figured out where its face was.

The system made a few grumbly noises. Rong Tang asked, “Found it yet?”

“No,” it mumbled. “Absolutely nothing.”

Back when it was in Rong Tang’s mind, the mainframe issued tasks and punishments, and the system passed them on. Most of the communication was one-way. On the three-dimensional map, sometimes a light would descend from the sky. That was how the other side got in touch.

But the return link? That only had a single fixed channel, located at Sheng Chengli’s old residence, the Cold Palace.

When it realised it couldn’t get back to the system space, it thought maybe it could try the real world.

It wandered around the Cold Palace in Dayu for three days, found nothing. And it was New Year, too—festive and lively everywhere. It felt utterly wronged, flew back to Tangjing Residence, hovered round Rong Tang, softly calling “Tangtang,” but Rong Tang couldn’t hear a thing.

It stayed the whole night, then flew back to the Cold Palace. This time, it finally spotted something.

It was incredibly proud as it recounted the discovery, glossing over the sneaky return trip, puffing itself up as it said, “There’s a pear tree in the Cold Palace. If you fly up along it starting from the third day of the lunar month, when the moon first appears, and keep going, eventually you’ll hit some kind of barrier. I reckon if I push through, I might reach the mainframe!”

The system chirped happily, but Rong Tang just stared at it for a long time without saying anything. Eventually, he asked, “How many days will it take to fly?”

The system froze, silent.

Rong Tang asked again, “How many days… round trip?”

The system drooped. “I don’t get tired.”

It didn’t know why it could only take form on the fifteenth of each month. Maybe it had something to do with the full moon. But that was the only day it could see its host, so it always flew down, just to check.

Neither of them said it out loud, but they both knew what the other meant.

After a long silence, Rong Tang sighed and lightly tapped the system on the head. “You’re such a dummy.”

“You’re the dummy,” the system snapped back, annoyed. “You got tricked twice.”

“So did you,” Rong Tang said.

The system fell quiet. Then muttered, “Then we’re both dummies.”

Rong Tang chuckled. “A foolish host and a foolish system. Perfect match.”

The system rubbed itself against his hand, then finally nestled into the crook of his neck. “Tangtang, wait for me. When I find that idiot mainframe, I’m going to ask it exactly what it was playing at. Why it picked on you, and then I’ll find a way to get you a proper, healthy body.”

Rong Tang didn’t really care about that. Even if he did want to get to the bottom of it all, to fight for something, that was his business. Not something for a poor little system to be hurling itself into the sky for, day and night, blindly searching for some hidden gateway in a barrier, and racing back down before the fifteenth each month, just to try again after it passed.

It was… exhausting.

Even just thinking about it wore him out.

But the system was so full of drive that Rong Tang couldn’t stop it. Otherwise the silly little thing would have no idea what it could still do.

So he only asked, “Will you come see me again on the fifteenth next month?”

The system was quiet for two seconds, then answered in a small, proud voice, “If you miss me, I’ll be gracious enough to come down for a visit.”

Rong Tang broke into a smile, open and sincere. “Of course I miss you.”

The system let out a couple of pleased hums and rubbed itself against his neck. “Then I’ll come down~”

“Thanks, Tongbao*,” Rong Tang said.

(TN: “Bao” meaning “treasure” or “precious.)

“It’s Daddy—” the system corrected, then gave up, “Oh, fine, Bao works. Tangtang, go on out. The big bad villain’s probably looking for you. Come back later.”

Rong Tang’s smile faded a touch. He saw the glow on the system start to dim, turned his head and noticed clouds beginning to drift across the moon. He didn’t move. The system urged him again: “Come back later!”

Rong Tang hesitated for a couple of seconds, rubbed the system twice more, then finally stepped outside.

But he didn’t go looking for Su Huaijing. He just stood under the eaves, gazing up at the moon overhead.

Spring’s light filled the sky, soft and tender.

Su Huaijing walked in from the moon gate, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. Rong Tang raised a finger to his lips and gave a small shake of the head.

So Su Huaijing simply came over to stand beside him, silent, the two of them watching the moon and the night together—until the clouds fully smothered the moonlight.

Rong Tang let out a quiet breath, turned and headed back into the room… only to stop cold, one foot just over the threshold.

All the candles had been blown out. The lanterns hanging on the stands now glowed with a soft, steady light.

Four lanterns lit up the corners of the room, each one bright and gentle.

On the table sat a teapot, and the gauzy robe he’d crumpled earlier to distract the system.

Inside the robe: a small glowing ball of light. Beside it, four more. Neatly arranged, similar in size but varying in brightness.

Rong Tang came out of his daze and walked slowly to the table, gently touching the glowing motes.

The system was no longer visible. He felt the shimmer flowing over his fingertips, and murmured under his breath, “How much did you cry…”

“You really are a little fool.”