The 30th day of the twelfth lunar month, New Year's Eve.

Before dawn had fully broken, the kitchen was filled with the clatter of pots and pans. Song Min had already initiated "New Year's Eve Dinner Sprint Mode."

Lu Zhixian stumbled out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed, around seven o'clock. Just as he was about to lend a hand, Song Min pushed him out, along with his apron.

"Go, go, go. You're just in charge of eating; don't come in here and add to the mess."

Well, a top star's status in the family was crystal clear.

Lu Jianguo was assigned the only KPI for the day—putting up the spring couplets.

He moved a small stool over and stood on it, while Lu Zhixian hurriedly acted as a human support frame below.

"Dad, move it to the left. Yeah, that's it. Too high, too high, come down a tiny bit."

"I know, stop nagging."

Lu Jianguo complained with his mouth, but his hands honestly followed his son's "human navigation" to make micro-adjustments.

The father and son worked in tacit understanding. The spring couplets had been carefully selected by Song Min, gold characters on a red background, with the horizontal scroll reading: Family Happiness.

After finishing, Lu Zhixian stepped back a few paces, took a photo, and posted it to his social media.

The caption was extremely simple: "Happy New Year."

By the morning, New Year's greeting messages started bombing his phone as if they had all agreed on it.

Jiang Cheng was the first to send a thirty-second voice message. Upon tapping to listen, it was a New Year's rap with a broken rhythm and lyrics so cringey they made one want to claw at the floor, topped off with a leaky beatbox at the end.

After listening, Lu Zhixian almost couldn't resist throwing his phone out the window; it was pure mental pollution.

Su Qing's message was much more normal: a handmade card with "New Year Surpasses the Old" written in elegant handwriting, accompanied by gentle blessings.

Shi Lei was the most hardcore; he just threw a red packet in his face.

The amount: 66.6.

Lu Zhixian laughed in spite of himself. He casually sent Jiang Cheng 8.8, wishing him continued "prosperity" (the kind that sounds like 'going crazy').

He sent Su Qing 88 for good luck.

When it came to Shi Lei, Lu Zhixian smirked, entered 66.6, and bounced it right back.

The reply came in seconds: "You brat, you did that on purpose, right?"

Lu Zhixian replied with a "cat shrugging" sticker, mastering the art of reading but ignoring.

Lin Shiya's message didn't arrive until after two in the afternoon.

It was very much in line with her cold and aloof persona of not joining in the hustle and bustle.

"Happy New Year, Teacher Lu."

Below it was a photo. A large, river-view apartment, overcast sky, a scented candle lit on the table by the floor-to-ceiling window, next to a glass of red wine and an open book.

The composition was impeccable, and the atmosphere was maxed out.

Lu Zhixian replied: "Happy New Year, Teacher Lin."

His fingers paused, and he impulsively added a jab: "You can't hold your liquor, don't drink too much."

After sending it, he felt he had been a bit meddlesome. To his surprise, a question mark popped up from the other side quickly.

"?"

Lu Zhixian typed righteously: "Guessed it."

The "other party is typing" indicator at the top of the chat flickered for a long time, and finally, three words were sent.

"...Guess you're right."

Lu Zhixian looked at the screen and laughed out loud; this diva was quite tsundere.

At four in the afternoon, the New Year's Eve dinner officially began.

Song Min had soloed for the whole day, producing twelve hearty dishes that filled the large round table.

"Twelve months, may every month be prosperous!" Song Min took off her apron and announced with great gusto.

Lu Jianguo took out his prized white liquor, poured a small cup, and tilted his chin at his son: "Want some?"

"I'll just have a can of beer." Lu Zhixian opened a chilled one.

The family of three sat around; the Spring Festival Gala was playing on the TV, the volume low, becoming the liveliest background noise.

Song Min raised her glass: "In the new year, never mind anything else, as long as our family of three is doing well!"

"Right, doing well," Lu Jianguo echoed, clinking his glass with his son's.

Halfway through the meal, the topic inevitably slid toward that abyss exclusive to older single youth.

"Little Xian, you're twenty-eight this year," Song Min placed a piece of fish into his bowl, the trap finally sprung.

"Working outside, have you… taken a fancy to any suitable young lady?"

"Cough, cough!"

Lu Zhixian almost spat out his rice. Old Lu, who was picking at peanuts nearby, clearly had his ears perked up like antennas.

"Mom, my career has just started, I'm busy." Lu Zhixian tried to muddle through with the universal excuse.

Song Min wasn't buying it.

"Career and personal matters don't conflict! I saw that girl you sang with at the awards ceremony… Lin something, was it? That girl is really pretty, and her temperament is good too. You two… are close, right?"

Lu Zhixian's chopsticks paused. Good heavens, his mom's marriage-pressure radar had accurately scanned all the way to the diva.

"...We know each other, it was just a professional collaboration." He explained, biting the bullet.

"Just professional?" Song Min's look seemed to say, "Guess whether I believe you."

At the critical moment, Lu Jianguo raised his glass, breaking the awkwardness with a definitive statement.

"The child's business, let him handle it himself, stop worrying blindly."

After saying that, he took a sip of liquor, hiding his merit and fame.

After the meal, the family huddled on the sofa to watch the Spring Festival Gala.

Song Min turned into a barrage machine, outputting wildly at every program.

"This breathing is too weak, not even half as steady as our Little Xian."

"What kind of skit is this? It's not funny at all."

Lu Zhixian leaned on the sofa, listening to his mom's complaints, smelling the aroma of the food, and feeling an indescribable sense of stability in his heart.

This feeling was more satisfying than winning the Golden Song Awards or having an album hit the top of the charts. It was just sitting simply in this warm living room, with the two people next to him who treated him as their whole world.

He pulled out two thick red packets he had prepared earlier and handed them over.

"Dad, Mom, New Year's money."

Song Min took it, felt the thickness, and immediately wanted to stuff it back: "This is too much! You have big expenses outside, earning money isn't easy, Mom doesn't want it!"

Lu Zhixian held her hand down, his tone firm.

"Mom, I can earn money now. You raised me this big, this is what I should honor you with."

He turned his head and handed the other one to Lu Jianguo: "Dad, take it."

Lu Jianguo looked at the red packet, remained silent for a long while, then reached out and took it.

He didn't say thanks, nor did he decline; he just nodded heavily and tucked the red packet into his inner pocket.

Lu Zhixian saw that his dad's weathered eyes were faintly turning red.

The clock struck midnight, fireworks exploded outside the window, and the entire small town was drowned in deafening celebration.

Lu Zhixian stood on the balcony, looking at the brilliant sky.

Just then, a faint blue system light screen suddenly popped up before his eyes.

[Ding! Detected that the host has completed the hidden side mission: Go home for the New Year.]

[Mission Description: A true superstar belongs not only to the stage but also to the people who love him.]

[Mission Reward: Intermediate Variety Show Sense.]

[Skill Description: Significantly improves on-site reactions in variety shows, sense of humor, and camera presence, making you the most dazzling kid in the crowd.]

Lu Zhixian looked at the notification, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile.

This system was actually quite humane.