Author Archives: Thingyan

At the entrance of the childhood tutoring center, two new benches have been added. Lu Yao and Budu sit at the entrance, with a few plump cats cuddled up between their feet and the benches. These cats are wild ones from the neighborhood, recently tamed by the staff who have been feeding them, and they often come around looking for food.

On sunny days like this, the cats enjoy lying around and soaking up the sun.

A chubby orange cat, as large as Erxin, lazily licks its paws while lying on Lu Yao’s lap.

Budu looks over enviously.

Even with a name now and no longer casually radiating cold air, he still seems inapproachable .

On such a cold winter day, apart from Erxin, very few cats are willing to come close to him.

Lu Yao reassures him that when summer comes, the cats will like him.

Budu doesn’t understand why but starts secretly wishing for summer to arrive quickly.

Bai Yi brings out some mulberries and greets Lu Yao at the entrance.

It has been a while since Sang Li first attended tutoring, and today she leaves looking pleased, seemingly satisfied with the results of her session.

Bai Yi is also happy, standing at the door and saying, “According to your suggestion, we adjusted the tutoring schedule to start from the time Sang Li was isolated. At the end, I read her the materials you had given me before, and after looking through them, Sang Li cried for a long time. But when she left, she said she was glad she came to the tutoring.”

Lu Yao nods, “It seems you are starting to understand the core of this job.”

Sang Li is a somewhat special student.

What she wants is not to correct the bullying incident from her school days but to gain the strength to break free from her predicament.

Throughout a person’s life, they will encounter countless physical, psychological, and spiritual challenges. The important thing is not how to avoid difficulties but how to overcome them.

Bai Yi revealed that she didn’t do much this time; she simply befriended Sang Li during her loneliest and most confused period as a transfer student and accompanied her until she graduated.

As the tutoring was coming to an end, four classmates apologized to Sang Li when they switched seats in class, awkwardly saying that after getting to know her, they realized she was not at all like the person they had heard about.

Bai Yi suspects that Lu Yao secretly adjusted the data, which is why such feedback occurred.

Lu Yao shakes her head, “I didn’t adjust anything.”

Sang Li’s predicament is different from Xu Xiaoxiao and Hu Jiao; it doesn’t require widespread data adjustments.

The situation she encountered during tutoring was likely predicted by Alfred based on the tutoring plan and the data from the time key, calculating the possible feedback that might occur at that time.

After the tutoring ended, the materials Sang Li received could be considered a consolation gift, providing updates about some of her former classmates.

Sometimes, viewing things from a further perspective allows one to see different aspects.

Zhuang Li failed the capability test for her preferred university and was assigned to a remote and obscure college. The person who often secretly threw Sang Li’s books and homework into the toilet acted too flamboyantly in college, offending some tough seniors and getting bullied privately, with no one to come to her aid. A former classmate who had secretly helped Sang Li was facing emotional troubles and was in a low emotional state.

People who possess the freedom to determine their own words and actions must also bear the consequences that come with them.

Some influences do not appear immediately.

Over a long life, the ups and downs are quite ordinary.

Sang Li’s middle school years were lonely and painful; she couldn’t make friends, didn’t have the troubles of romance, and spent almost all her time alone studying. This time investment paid off by helping her get into a school she liked and providing her with more opportunities for self-improvement, without encountering the interpersonal dilemmas she faced in middle school.

What was originally the most regrettable thing—the disappointment in humanity and interpersonal relationships left by the bullying incident—was compensated through childhood tutoring.

The time span of childhood tutoring can sometimes be long, and the impact it brings does not immediately cause a significant change in the students’ lives and perceptions; it only continuously provides hints in the following time, helping them slowly walk down the path they most deeply desire in their hearts.

Bai Yi briefly reports the situation to Lu Yao and prepares to head back to the office to write the work report while the emotions are still high.

After taking a few steps, she suddenly turns back and asks, “Shopkeeper, are the treatment times for 222 and 696 after work today?”

Lu Yao said, “Hmm, what’s wrong?”

Bai Yi also wanted to visit Sanhua City from sixty years ago.

Lu Yao politely declined.

In the past few days, Lu Yao and Budu had explored Sanhua City thoroughly, collecting many samples from sixty years ago, including tree branches and stones, tiles from old houses built sixty years ago, and antiques found in various shops. They had taken samples one by one to create keys.

Lu Yao had already gone through the area once in advance with Budu.

There were some strange things in Sanhua City sixty years ago, the reasons for which were temporarily unknown, and Lu Yao didn’t want to involve Bai Yi.

After listening to the explanation, Bai Yi accepted it and dropped the subject.

…

After leaving the childhood tutoring center, Sang Li went straight back to school.

When she got out of the car at the entrance, she felt a bit hungry and stopped by the snack street for something to eat.

As she stepped out, she saw a hair salon by the roadside. After hesitating for a few seconds, she walked in, suddenly in the mood for a new hairstyle.

The stylist began cutting her hair, and Sang Li couldn’t help but recall the information she had seen at the childhood tutoring center.

Xu Tian, someone she often encountered on her way to school before.

She was a bit chubby, loved to eat and laugh, and was the first to say that Sang Li was not at all like the rumors suggested.

It wasn’t during tutoring that Xu Tian actually told her this.

At that time, Sang Li viewed everything as hypocritical, and afterward, she no longer walked with her.

The material from the childhood tutoring center noted that Xu Tian had recently gone through a breakup.

Sang Li stared at the opened chat interface, hesitating for a while, before sending a message.

After sending it, she turned off her screen, preparing to put her phone away.

Ding—

A new message notification sounded.

She received a reply almost immediately.

Sang Li paused for a moment, as several messages followed from the other side.

With cheerful emoticons and stickers, Sang Li chuckled; it seemed Xu Tian wasn’t as downcast as described in the material.

…

Before closing in the afternoon, a new customer arrived at the tutoring center.

A lady in her fifties walked in with her daughter, who was in her thirties.

Bai Yi and Xie Molin were wrapping up their work, while Lu Yao was responsible for welcoming the mother and daughter.

The lady sat down and immediately began to express her feelings. Her daughter, Zhou Yishan, was understanding and obedient from a young age, smart, eager to learn, and had strong abilities. When she graduated from university, her capability test score was only at the C level, but she managed to secure an offer from one of the top fifty large groups in the country based on her solid professional skills.

The lady had always been proud of her daughter, but years after graduation, Zhou Yishan still hadn’t found a boyfriend.

A year ago, Zhou Yishan had confessed to her mother that she didn’t plan to get married.

This left the lady very anxious, trying every possible way to persuade her, but Zhou Yishan was resolute, not wanting to date or settle down.

After a year of prolonged “combat,” the lady had almost given up hope when she happened to hear from an acquaintance about the childhood tutoring center and decided to bring her daughter to take a look.

While talking, the lady became very emotional, her eyebrows and eyes furrowing into a knot, almost to the point of tears.

Zhou Yishan sat beside her, appearing completely indifferent and lifeless.

Lu Yao took out two childhood testing forms and handed one to the lady and one to Zhou Yishan.

The lady looked surprised, “I have to fill one out too? I thought only the students had to.”

Lu Yao replied, “You seem to be quite well-informed, Auntie. We want you to fill one out as well to better understand Miss Zhou’s situation.”

After hearing this, the lady put down her pen, “It’s her who’s attending tutoring, not me. I won’t fill it out.”

Lu Yao didn’t insist, “Alright.”

Zhou Yishan filled out the form seriously and took almost half an hour to complete it.

By this time, it was already the tutoring center’s usual closing time. Lu Yao had an appointment, so she quickly skimmed through the important questions on the form and prepared to help Zhou Yishan retrieve her bone and create a time key.

The aunt had originally looked forward to it, but upon hearing that they were going to retrieve bones, her expression changed slightly, and then she immediately switched gears, pulling Zhou Yishan to leave.

Zhou Yishan, on the other hand, became interested in the tutoring, sitting still and even rolling up her sleeves, intending to ask Lu Yao to retrieve her bones, but was forcibly dragged away by her aunt.

Lu Yao felt a bit strange and couldn’t quite recall what was off.

Xie Molin stood at the door of her office, lightly tapping on the glass: “Shopkeeper, this side is ready.”

Lu Yao came back to her senses: “Okay, just a moment.”

Upon hearing that 222 and 696 were going to undergo treatment, 444, who was also very interested in the time-traveling journey, begged Lu Yao to take him along. Unable to resist, she agreed.

Thus, the group for this time-traveling trip was quite large, consisting of Lu Yao, Budu, Lin Xue, Xie Molin, and three test subjects.

Given the unknown situations learned from the previous trip and to prevent uncontrollable issues, Lu Yao distributed protective items before the time travel.

Lin Xue held up a silver ring and observed: “Is it enough to just wear this?”

Lu Yao explained: “Although it’s a disposable item, once you wear it, it will activate a protective barrier that instantly rebounds damage in case of danger, isolating toxic substances and unknown elements. It’s invisible to the naked eye, but it does exist.”

444 said, “You can’t tell it’s such a powerful item.”

222 added, “It’s better if you can’t tell; otherwise, it feels like wearing protective clothing while roaming around the research institute.”

696’s expression slightly darkened: “Don’t mention the research institute.”

With so many people to bring, Lu Yao took out Alfred’s main body, and the familiar silver light enveloped everyone.

As the silver light dissipated, no one was left in the tutoring room.

Lu Yao and Budu had investigated in advance, and they knew their landing coordinates were on a sparsely populated riverbank.

As the group opened their eyes, they found themselves surrounded by overgrown weeds, the river water flowing quietly, with a bleak sight all around. The area was so quiet that they could only hear the wind, with no trace of a bustling metropolis in sight.

“Is Sanhua City really this desolate sixty years ago?” Lin Xue found it hard to believe.

Lu Yao held Budu’s hand and chose a direction, leading them as she said, “Let’s head this way. If we walk for a while, we’ll see houses; there are still quite a few people in the city.”

A century can feel neither long nor short. While walking along the deserted riverbank, it didn’t feel very pronounced, but when they encountered an old boat docked by the river and spoke to the boatmen using a strange dialect, they finally felt the reality of their time travel.

As they walked along the riverbank, they encountered more boats and boatmen who made their homes on the water.

Those people looked at Lu Yao and her group with surprise, observing their polished attire, fair skin, and varied expressions.

Lin Xue felt uncomfortable being scrutinized so openly and quietly moved behind Lu Yao.

Strangely enough, despite being the only one in the group without abilities, she felt the safest near the shopkeeper.

The three test subjects behaved calmly. 696 noticed Lin Xue’s confusion and explained, “Test subjects have to have their daily excretions checked and recorded; we’ve gotten used to being looked at.”

Lin Xue: “…”

They encountered a bridge with a toll station.

To cross the bridge, one had to pay a copper coin for a crossing ticket.

Lu Yao was already prepared.

After purchasing the tickets, the group walked onto the river bridge.

Once they crossed the bridge, it felt like entering a city.

The number of pedestrians increased, and there were shops open for business.

Old-fashioned sedans, ox carts, and horse carts were on the road, creating a strikingly jarring and impactful scene for the time travelers.

444, in high spirits, looked around and showed a puzzled expression: “It seems like the pedestrians all have frowns on their faces. Is something wrong?”

696 nodded in agreement: “They look like the test subjects locked up in the research institute.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

“Good morning, boss.”

Number 444 was arranging the shelves when he saw Lu Yao holding Lu Budu’s hand as they entered from outside. He paused his work and respectfully bowed.

He had been working at the Childhood Tutoring Center for three or four days and had fully adapted to the role of store clerk.

Number 444 was extremely enthusiastic about this job, perhaps because he had been confined at the research institute for so long. When interacting with customers at the store, he would transform into a social butterfly, particularly enjoying chatting with them.

Despite being nearly forty, his expression was somewhat blank, and his figure was tall and thin. He worked earnestly and passionately and was a good listener.

In just a few days, some regular customers would sometimes make time to chat with him.

When there weren’t many customers, Number 444 would pick up Erxin and sit in the wicker chair, lost in thought. From a distance, he looked more like the owner of the store than Lu Yao.

One day, Hu Jiao deliberately took a few candid photos of Number 444 and Erxin, edited them, and posted them on the official account, unexpectedly stirring up a bit of buzz.

“Suddenly got the appeal of the ‘uncle circle’!”

“The older gentleman has a clean, serene vibe, holding that chubby cat—it feels like a truly peaceful moment in life.”

“Work is so busy and annoying, but seeing the old man and the cat gives me an inexplicable sense of healing!”

…

Hu Jiao showed the online feedback to Number 444.

Feeling embarrassed, Number 444 scratched his head awkwardly. “Someone like me doesn’t deserve such praise.”

Hu Jiao frowned in disagreement. “Uncle, be more confident. Don’t underestimate yourself. The customers all appreciate you, even Xiaoxiao said you might steal her job.”

Having spent time at the Supernatural Research Institute, Hu Jiao felt particularly conflicted when seeing these test subjects.

They had once been ordinary people who, for various reasons, became test subjects.

Even though they had left the institute, they could no longer see themselves clearly or form normal connections with those around them. This was likely the source of their pain.

However, since arriving in Sanhua City, 444 had found a (temporary) job and, with the help of Xie Molin and the sanatorium, rented an apartment next to Xie Molin’s.

Compared to his initial state, his life had greatly improved.

The sanatorium called daily to check on him, confirmed his significant improvement, and decided to send over two more test subjects.

This time, the new arrivals were one male and one female. The female subject, Number 222, was, like Number 444, a survivor from the previous mass rescue.

After 444 left, 222 remained at the sanatorium, physically and mentally in a weak, numb state that showed no signs of improvement.

The other male subject was relatively young, appearing to be under thirty, and was assigned Number 696.

He was also tall and thin like 444 but was quiet and not very talkative.

Accompanying the two was a doctor from the sanatorium. As this was a collaboration, it wasn’t appropriate to simply hand over all the patients to the Childhood Tutoring Center without support.

In addition to procedural and financial assistance, the sanatorium’s staff also came to confirm 444’s condition and learn from the tutoring center’s experience.

The person who came this time was coincidentally the secretary from the meeting Xie Molin had previously attended.

The secretary’s surname was Lin, with the given name “Xue,” and she was a young woman around twenty-five or twenty-six years old.

Lin Xue was extremely curious about Lu Yao and was very enthusiastic during their first meeting.

However, after meeting Lu Yao, her attitude changed slightly. Occasionally, she would observe Lu Yao thoughtfully, as if pondering something.

After a brief exchange of greetings between the two groups, Lin Xue decided to stay temporarily at the Childhood Tutoring Center to help out.

Number 444 was delighted to see 222 and 696, and during his free time at work, he loved talking to them and sharing stories about his life in Sanhua City.

Although both companions remained silent and rarely responded, 444’s enthusiasm never waned.

Lu Yao observed them for a while. Unlike 444, 222 and 696 had different personalities. They were withdrawn and showed little curiosity about their surroundings after arriving at the center.

Lu Yao called Lin Xue and Xie Molin to the office and shared her plan.

Lin Xue blinked, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. “Are you saying you want to arrange a time-travel experience for 222 and 696? Is that really possible? And is there theoretical support for such a treatment plan?”

Recently, many self-proclaimed students of the tutoring center had anonymously shared their experiences online. The Childhood Tutoring Center did not require confidentiality from its students, so some shared details that spread whispers.

Many people didn’t believe the stories, but a significant number were curious about the so-called time machine.

Lin Xue actually believed in the concept of the time machine. As a researcher and therapist, she had come across many cases and data related to superpowers. Despite superpowers having existed for about sixty years, many mysteries remained.

However, experiencing it firsthand was different. Even being near a time machine still felt surreal to Lin Xue.

She had never encountered someone who used superpowers so boldly.

Lu Yao’s idea was straightforward and direct. “I just want to give them a change of scenery to lift their spirits. I can’t guarantee how effective it will be, but it’s worth a try to stimulate their emotions. For this, I plan to set the time coordinates to sixty years ago.”

Lin Xue’s heart skipped a beat. “You mean the era before superpowers existed?”

Lu Yao nodded.

Xie Molin, who had been sitting quietly, spoke up. “Store owner, I’d like to go to the world from sixty years ago as well.”

Lin Xue slapped the table, excitement in her voice. “I want to go too!”

By the time they were born, superpowers were already an integral part of the world.

But in the distant past, before superpowers appeared, they all wanted to see how people lived.

Lu Yao tapped the desk lightly and nodded. “The time will be set for two days from now. For now, let’s get back to work.”

…

In the afternoon, Xin Xin came to the Childhood Tutoring Center again and immediately noticed the increased number of people, frowning. “It’s one thing to have students, but taking in so many test subjects—is the boss planning to conduct Supernatural research?”

Lu Yao was just seeing a student off when she heard Xin Xin’s complaint and tapped the back of her head lightly. “Why did the young lady come by herself?”

Xin Xin crossed her arms. “Zhou Jing has an important auction event tonight.”

After a brief explanation, Xin Xin stepped forward, trying hard to stand on her toes as she whispered to Lu Yao, “Store owner, you’re not collaborating with the research institute, are you?”

Lu Yao took a step back, raised her eyebrows slightly, and didn’t answer. Instead, she asked, “Judging by your tone, it sounds like you don’t think highly of the institute. Why’s that?”

“I’d like to hear too,” came a voice before Xin Xin could respond.

Lu Yao looked up and saw Xiao Mei, Number 52, and an unfamiliar man—likely another test subject—standing at the doorway.

Even in casual clothes, researchers and test subjects had a certain demeanor and characteristics that set them apart from ordinary people. Lu Yao could almost identify them at a glance.

The one who spoke was Xiao Mei. Xin Xin recognized them as people from the research institute, scoffed lightly, and, without explaining, carried a small basket of snacks into the tea room.

Xiao Mei, unfazed, naturally began talking to Lu Yao. “Auntie.”

After greeting her, she glanced around, searching for the child Du Qiuling mentioned in his messages earlier.

Lu Yao pretended not to notice and turned to lead the three into the tutoring room. “Why are you here today?”

Inside the tutoring room, Xiao Mei immediately spotted Lu Budu sitting in the corner and muttered, “He really does look exactly alike. When Senior Du mentioned it, I thought he was exaggerating.”

The man beside Number 52 also saw Lu Budu and a hint of surprise crossed his usually calm eyes.

Lu Yao thought Xiao Mei was saying that Budu looked like her and smiled. “He does, doesn’t he?”

Xiao Mei couldn’t help but turn around and stare at Lu Yao in surprise for a moment before quietly pulling out her phone. “Can I take a picture? He’s so cute.”

Lu Yao waved it off. “You’ll have to ask him.”

Xiao Mei had completely forgotten about the main task of the day and quickly walked over to Lu Budu, striking up a conversation with the child.

At this point, Number 52 also noticed that the child looked familiar and felt slightly surprised, but he hadn’t forgotten their main purpose. They were taking a significant risk with this visit.

If they failed, they would likely have no chance to approach the store owner through normal means again.

Number 52 pointed to the man beside him and introduced, “Store owner, this is Number 10, a friend of mine. He’s interested in learning more about the Childhood Tutoring Program.”

Lu Yao followed Number 52’s gaze and studied the man beside him. When their eyes met, she paused.

His gaze was intense and somehow familiar, but she couldn’t quite place where she had seen it before.

Lu Yao stood up and invited Number 10 to the office for a detailed conversation, including a childhood assessment.

In the office, Number 10 casually glanced at the papers handed to him and reached out to take them, brushing against the store owner’s fingers.

Lu Yao didn’t pay it any mind and handed him a pen.

Number 10’s lips curved slightly as he accepted the pen and looked at her with a smile. “Is the time machine really a machine the store owner made using her superpower?”

Lu Yao felt an odd sensation. This test subject was unusual, with a low-numbered designation, but she couldn’t discern any ill intent. She nodded as an answer.

Number 10 gave a short laugh, leaning forward slightly, his light brown eyes looking straight into hers as he spoke in a deep voice, “Little—liar.”

The sudden, odd remark from the guest was jarring, but if not for his serious expression and tone, which dispelled most of the oddness, Lu Yao might have burst out laughing.

Even so, she lowered her gaze, fighting the urge to laugh, took a deep breath, composed herself, and said, “What did you say?”

Number 10 raised an eyebrow, displeased. “What are you laughing at?”

Lu Yao touched her face, feigning innocence. “Did I laugh?”

Number 10 stated confidently, “You did.”

Not only did she laugh, but it was rather audacious.

As if… she thought he was a fool.

Lu Yao looked down, her shoulders shaking slightly. “I’m sorry, I just remembered something that made me happy.”

Number 10: “…”

Lu Yao composed herself, raised her head again, and said, “Let’s continue.”

About ten minutes later, Number 10 left Lu Yao’s office with an unhappy expression.

In the end, he did not sign up for the tutoring program and hadn’t even finished filling out the childhood assessment form.

Lu Yao followed him out, standing at the doorway as usual to see the three off.

Once Xiao Mei, Number 52, and the disgruntled Number 10 boarded the research institute’s car, Lu Yao turned back into the tutoring room.

“Did that guest leave?” Bai Yi couldn’t help but ask.

Very few guests personally received by the store owner ended up leaving immediately, and the one earlier had left with a particularly sour expression.

Lu Yao shook her head, looking regretful. “It was probably my fault; I couldn’t hold back a laugh.”

Bai Yi’s gossip radar beeped wildly. “What happened? Is there a story?”

It happened to be their usual afternoon tea time, and Xie Molin and Hu Jiao came out of their respective offices, with even Budu moving closer.

Lu Yao suppressed a smile and shook her head. “Nothing.”

..

Late at night, in the underground restricted room of the Supernatural Research Institute.

Number 52 lightly tapped on the glass, standing in the shadows by the door. “How did it go?”

X opened his eyes and slowly sat up, a surprising light flickering in the depths of his eyes, as still as an ancient well. “She truly is a non-powered individual. The fact that I couldn’t steal her ability is the best evidence.”

“Then what about the time machine?” Number 52 was puzzled.

He had attended the tutoring sessions and was sure that the machine was no hoax.

X said, “It might be an instrument made by another superpowered individual that she happened to acquire. Regardless, our plan requires her.”

Number 52 asked, “What’s the next step?”

X replied, “To be safe, we need to find a way to provoke her. Ensure that she never awakens any superpower while pushing her to our side.”

…

In Sanhua City, someone shared a photo of a child in the work group chat of the Supernatural Research Institute.

The silent chat suddenly came to life, as if a switch had been flipped.

[Colleague 1]: Huh? Is this An Yan as a child?

[Colleague 2]: So cute! It’s a shame he grew up to be such an ice-cold person.

[Colleague 3]: Shasha, where did you get this photo? Professor An was adorable as a kid.

[Shasha]: It wasn’t me. Xiao Mei sent it this afternoon. Do you all think it looks like Professor An?

[Colleague 4]: What do you mean? Is it Professor An’s relative? A cousin? A nephew?

[Shasha]: Probably not. Xiao Mei said she saw him at the Childhood Tutoring Center. It seems he’s the son of the center’s owner.

…

Xiao Mei came back to the institute in the afternoon feeling dazed and low-spirited. She fell asleep as soon as she got home, completely unaware that her well-meaning colleague had spread the news thoroughly.

By the time she woke up in the morning and checked the chat, it had already grown into hundreds of messages.

An Yan had surely seen it too.

But he hadn’t responded.

Xiao Mei lay on her bed, wishing she could buy a train ticket and leave Sanhua City overnight.

She must have been out of her mind yesterday. Otherwise, why would she gossip with Jiang Shasha, who had a big mouth, and even send her Budu’s photo?

An Yan, on the other hand, saw the group chat messages that morning. He glanced at Budu’s photo with an indifferent expression, scrolling down casually and skimming the chat for key phrases.

[Professor An’s child?]

[Is Professor An married? And to the tutoring center’s owner?]

[Divorced? Did he lose custody?]

[Tsk, what a pity.]

…

An Yan raised his hand and gently pinched the bridge of his nose.

It was just a prop, after all, but it looked so much like her.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Lu Yao came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray in her hands. “Hu Jiao, come in and sit.”

Hu Jiao stood at the doorway. “What’s going on?”

Lu Yao turned to set down the tray and walked to the entrance. “Hu Jiao, always being stuck in place doesn’t do any good. Just think of this as the last tutoring session. You can do whatever you want, no matter the outcome, I’ll always be on your side.”

Little Hu Qi probably didn’t understand and tilted his head to look at Lu Yao. After a few seconds, he turned back to Hu Jiao, his eyes full of confusion.

Hu Jiao frowned, pressed his lips tightly, and silently turned to leave.

Since the time he was saved on the overpass, he felt that Lu Yao was like a demon, always able to see straight into a person’s heart.

Not only that, but she also seemed completely unafraid to draw out the deepest, darkest thoughts within someone.

After everything he had been through, what did he want now?

Hu Jiao’s eyes grew deep as he returned to the Hu household, thoughts swirling in his mind.

Father Hu had already gone to the company, and Chen Jing was still asleep.

Hu Jiao tried using his superpower. Indeed, his abilities were not restricted by this physical body.

Skillfully, Hu Jiao used Chen Jing’s phone to register a social media account and started broadcasting for an hour each day.

His broadcasts were simple. Each afternoon after school, he would go live to practice the piano.

Hu Jiao’s superpower could be understood as having spider-like characteristics, not only possessing eight eyes but also being able to produce silk.

After years of developing his ability, he could even share the images within his field of vision with others.

Just like when he used to do outdoor live streaming.

Occasionally, Lu Yao would watch Hu Jiao’s streams and roughly understood what he was thinking.

After a week, Hu Jiao had gained quite a few followers online, and Father Hu finally came home, drunk.

When Father Hu’s fist came down, Hu Jiao turned off the live broadcast but used Chen Jing’s phone to record evidence of Father Hu’s abuse. He called the police and notified the community’s women and children protection association.

These were things Hu Jiao had researched while considering his next steps.

When he was young, he didn’t know that the community women and children protection association even existed. He felt anxious making the call, not expecting much, but the response was quicker than he imagined.

The injuries on Hu Jiao and Chen Jing had not yet been concealed by Father Hu, and with video evidence, Father Hu was immediately separated from Chen Jing and their son. The fact of domestic violence was publicly announced to the entire community.

Before long, Father Hu was forced to divorce Chen Jing and lost his job.

The staff at the women and children association assessed that Chen Jing was unable to raise Hu Jiao on her own and prepared to take Hu Jiao into their care.

Lu Yao expressed her willingness to adopt Hu Jiao.

Although Lu Yao was a single mother, she had a stable job, and her assets and personal records were impeccable, proving she could care for two children. With Hu Jiao’s consent, the association allowed him to stay with the Lu family.

Lu Yao then moved with Lu Hu Jiao and Hu Qi out of the Kumquat District, purchasing a new property closer to Kumquat Elementary School.

Hu Jiao asked, “When did you find out about the women and children association?”

In his memory, such an organization didn’t exist, but it had come up during tutoring, indicating that Lu Yao had researched it beforehand.

Lu Yao said, “It’s common knowledge. Nothing unusual. Do you regret it?”

The violence and neglect Hu Jiao suffered as a child weren’t a lie, and his resentment couldn’t be dissolved with a few words.

During the tutoring, he had many ways to deal with Father Hu but chose the most restrained option.

Even during tutoring, he didn’t indulge in his own anger.

In other words, he had controlled himself.

Lu Yao was a bit surprised by this.

Hu Jiao had indeed struggled internally, wanting to beat Father Hu as he had been treated in the past, even considering exposing Father Hu’s actions online to use public opinion to escape his situation.

Hu Jiao’s eyes softened, and he gently shook his head. “I thought about many things, but I just don’t want to be bound by them or the past anymore. At the Supernatural Research Institute, I saw many test subjects who were powerless and out of control. I’m lucky. I don’t want to waste more time, and I don’t want to become someone like that.”

His trauma was rooted deep in his heart, but when the shopkeeper brought him out of the Supernatural Research Institute, it had started to heal.

The old Hu Jiao was lost, weak, and defeated, not knowing what kind of person he should become or what his purpose was—until he met the girl in front of him.

She wasn’t the kind of beauty that took one’s breath away or a sharp, distinct individual, but being with her made it feel like no matter how difficult things got, one could get through them step by step, feeling an inexplicable sense of peace and an urge to become a better person.

Lu Yao smiled, gently ruffling Hu Jiao’s soft hair. “You took a step forward.”

This might not be a particularly satisfying ending, but Lu Yao was pleased with the actions Hu Jiao took after thinking for himself.

On the long and lonely road of life, there are many things we cannot control.

Be able to pick things up, and put them down.

The troubles of life won’t lessen, but life will certainly become much more pleasant.

In the final tutoring session, Lu Yao, Lu Hu Jiao, and little Hu Qi lived together for ten years, until the two young boys grew up to be sixteen.

“The tutoring is over,” Lu Yao said softly.

Hu Jiao opened his eyes and returned to the familiar tutoring room.

The childhood memories of Hu Qi gradually returned to his consciousness. Hu Jiao leaned over the desk, unable to control his emotions.

Lu Yao patted the young man’s shoulder and stood up to leave the office.

Having stayed in another world for too long, her mind was also exhausted, even though only three minutes had passed in reality.

Lu Budu was waiting by the door. When he saw Lu Yao come out, he immediately reached out to support her, his eyes full of worry. “Mother.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Lu Yao said, gripping Bu Du’s small hand tightly.

…

In the afternoon after five o’clock, the small convenience store experienced a rush of customers.

Number 444 had been sitting in the wicker chair since returning at noon, observing for the entire afternoon and had already memorized the prices of most of the store’s goods.

Seeing the peak hour arrive and the young female clerk struggling to keep up, Number 444 put aside his doubts and stood up to help greet the customers.

He hadn’t interacted with anyone outside the research institute and sanatorium for many years. Imitating Xu Xiaoxiao, he quickly got the hang of it.

By the time they closed up in the evening, Xu Xiaoxiao, who was counting the inventory and cash, was delighted to find everything balanced. She said happily, “Thanks to Number 444 for helping out this afternoon. Actually, the store has been hiring recently. Would you like to give it a try?”

Number 444, who was eating, paused slightly at her words, glanced at Xu Xiaoxiao, and instinctively looked at Lu Yao. “Someone like me… can I work?”

Xie Molin, hearing that Number 444 seemed interested, felt the treatment results were incredibly effective, even without using a time machine.

Hu Jiao, still caught up in the lingering emotions of the tutoring session, was distracted while eating but couldn’t help commenting, “Why wouldn’t you? As long as you want to.”

Lu Yao nodded. “If you’d like to, you can come for an interview.”

Number 444 set down his utensils, and a ripple appeared in his eyes, usually as deep as a dried-up well. “If I work at the store, can I ask the store owner to use the magic that makes food taste good?”

Except for Xie Molin and Lu Budu, the others didn’t understand what he meant.

Lu Yao nodded again. “Of course. It’s actually a type of healing magic, but its effects here are slower. With around twenty consecutive casts, your sense of taste and smell will gradually return.”

Number 444 blinked and slowly lowered his head. “I’d like to try.”

That evening, Lu Yao and Xie Molin discussed the matter of Number 444 joining the Childhood Tutoring Center over dinner.

Number 444’s employment was not yet official; everything he did at the Childhood Tutoring Center was part of a new treatment plan. Even his salary was funded by the sanatorium.

Xie Molin handled the negotiations and liaison with the sanatorium, which found 444’s progress incredibly remarkable. The procedural steps moved unusually quickly.

The Childhood Tutoring Center and the sanatorium quietly established a collaborative relationship.

444 began his internship at the tutoring center’s convenience store under the guidance of Xu Xiaoxiao.

Hu Jiao, who had completed his tutoring, officially joined the Childhood Tutoring Center as well. Lu Yao entrusted him with the monitoring room duties and the management of the official account.

The position of monitor was crucial, a role Lu Yao had prepared for in order to ensure the continued operation of the store after the task ended.

Whether it was the staff in the shopping street or those in Sanhua City, none could truly handle Alfred.

When Lu Yao was not present in the store, the progress of other tutoring teachers needed constant observation.

Hu Jiao’s abilities seemed tailor-made for this job; with the necessary permissions, his eyes could observe different situations across various timelines and contact the store owner when needed.

More importantly, the monitor would come into contact with much of the guests’ personal information, making the position a true test of character and a role that required absolute trust from the store owner.

Even though confidentiality agreements could enforce discretion, Lu Yao took great care when choosing the candidate.

After fully understanding the monitor’s responsibilities, Hu Jiao privately struggled for a long time. He felt inadequate for such an important position but was also quietly delighted by the shop owner’s trust and didn’t want to refuse.

The system, listening to Lu Yao explain the monitor’s duties to Hu Jiao, held back its comments.

When their discussion ended, it could barely contain its curiosity and questioned: “When did you come up with this plan?”

The system was agitated, its speech unclear, but Lu Yao understood.

“Around the time I spent ten million,” Lu Yao said without guilt. She had indeed recognized Hu Jiao’s potential very early on.

The system muttered quietly: “I forgot, you never make a loss in business.”

Lu Yao chuckled, “I consider myself fair. If one day you also want to do business with me, don’t hesitate to ask.”

The system scoffed: “You’ve been acting quite bold lately.”

Lu Yao didn’t mind at all.

In any case, the Childhood Tutoring Center was gradually settling into a stable routine.

A few days later, Lu Yao received a long-awaited task notification.

“Lu Yao’s snack shop has been well-managed, attracting a large crowd and surpassing one billion in total revenue, upgrading to a nine-star shop. The reward is a license to open a branch +1, with a rights protection period of fourteen days. Please decide before the deadline or forfeit the reward. Keep up the good work, store owner!”

Lu Yao: “???”

The system exclaimed in disbelief: “How long did it take to reach a billion?”

Lu Yao had never considered the possibility of opening a branch and was momentarily stunned. “What does ‘branch license’ mean?”

The system replied: “Does this really need explaining? It’s literal: the store owner has earned the right to open another store in Dreamland. However, as a branch of the snack shop, this store must primarily sell food and have a real storefront on the shopping street.”

Lu Yao: “And what does ‘rights protection period’ mean?”

The system explained: “The branch license is a special reward that comes with the snack shop’s upgrade to a nine-star shop. The store owner can choose to accept or decline. If the owner hasn’t decided within fourteen days, it will be considered a voluntary forfeiture of the reward.”

This was essentially what Lu Yao understood, and it left her in a dilemma.

The task for the snack shop had long been completed, so opening a new branch in Dreamland would only be a waste of money and effort, serving no real purpose.

But letting go of such a reward felt somewhat unsettling.

Lu Yao raised her hand and gently massaged her brow. “Let me think about it.”

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444 froze for a moment, his hands unconsciously stirring the dark brown hot cocoa as he fell into thought. “A life lesson?”

Xie Molin looked over in surprise, as if Lu Yao had just said something particularly strange.

Only Budu sipped his hot cocoa in small, careful sips, his jewel-like red eyes shimmering with admiration and affection as he watched Lu Yao.

Lu Yao smiled lightly and tapped Budu, placing a fruit cream puff on the plate in front of him. She picked one up herself and took a delicate bite. The light, fluffy cream mixed with the natural sweetness of the fruit filled her mouth, making her squint happily.

After a few seconds, she looked up at the two men across from her. “Wild animals that are rescued or raised in captivity must undergo rewilding training before being released back into the wild to ensure they can find food and survive on their own.

“It might sound harsh, but right now, 444, you’re like an animal that has been completely domesticated by humans and has lost the ability to survive.

“Worse still, because humans have more complex thoughts, emotions, and social connections, reintegrating into society is even harder than it is for ordinary animals. Not only have you lost your ability to survive, but you’ve also lost your purpose for living.”

“How cruel,” Qin Xing, who hadn’t walked far, muttered to himself. For the first time, he saw the true nature of the store owner.

Someone so gentle and easygoing could also speak with words that cut like knives.

“Domesticated by humans?” 444 slowly repeated, sinking into thought.

Qin Xing shook his head and sighed.

At some point, the existence of test subjects had stopped being a secret, and even many struggling people willingly walked into the research institutes.

But for most people who could live normally, the thought of the superhuman research institutes and experimental subjects was terrifying.

Qin Xing remembered the annual physical exams where he lay exposed on the machines for thorough inspections. That feeling of having even his soul probed was unsettling and terrifying, no matter how many times he endured it. The treatment test subjects received was undoubtedly even more invasive—little more than lab rats in human form.

The store owner’s words were direct and hurtful.

444 raised his head, and a faint light began to form in the depths of his lifeless eyes. His voice was hoarse, “You’re right.”

Qin Xing paused mid-step, turning back to glance.

444 didn’t notice the attention from afar. He fixed his gaze on the store owner. “The moment we step into the laboratory and receive our subject number, we lose our rights as human beings. That’s the truth, yet for some reason, everyone remains silent. Whether in the research institute or later in the recovery center, our lives remain unchanged. Life is like a stagnant pool where you can see the end at a glance. Everyone ignores it, but you bluntly exposed it. Strangely, I feel… relieved.”

Xie Molin was more surprised than before.

He had looked after 444 for a long time, but this was the first time he’d heard him speak so much and with such vivid emotion.

Xie Molin felt a mix of joy and an inexplicable sadness.

He and his colleagues at the rehabilitation center had truly wanted to help, but nothing seemed to work.

“No big deal.” Lu Yao pushed the plate of fruit cream puffs towards 444 and said softly, “Don’t worry. The river of life sometimes flows into stagnant pools, but even in still water, a small stone can create ripples.”

“What should I do? Teacher Lu, please tell me,” 444 asked sincerely.

Xie Molin took a sip of coffee to mask the uncontrollable emotion on his face.

On the way back from Tanhuashi, he had worried about causing trouble for the store owner. The condition of ill test subjects was far more serious than that of regular clients, so even if tutoring was possible, it would likely take more energy and time.

The biggest concern was 444’s potential resistance to tutoring. Yet within just half a day, he was actively seeking advice and even calling her “teacher.”

Lu Yao propped her chin on one hand, gently stirring her coffee with the other. She said casually, “Don’t be too anxious. How about just playing around for a few days? Stop thinking of yourself as a test subject. Wander around like the people on the street, taste the local food, explore the shops, and maybe even try making friends. Just like a little animal exploring its surroundings.”

444 turned to look out the window.

As noon approached, the street outside became busier, especially at the small restaurants across the way, where people crowded together, waiting for their meals. The nearby fruit shop, milk tea shop, and small supermarket were also starting to fill with customers—men, women, the elderly, and children of all ages, each dressed differently and wearing varied expressions.

To 444, these scenes seemed particularly vivid, so different from the sterile white coats of the research institute or the doctors and patients at the rehabilitation center.

But going out alone for a casual walk was still a big challenge for him. However, observing the outside world through the window felt enjoyable—something he could do for hours without growing tired.

444 slowly put his thoughts into words and, with a hint of nervousness, shared them with Lu Yao.

Lu Yao listened intently and pointed across the street. “Can you see the wicker chair in the shop? Sitting there is nice too, and Erxin can keep you company.”

444 looked up and immediately recalled when he first heard Xie Molin describe his initial encounter with the shop owner. He had struggled to imagine the scene at first, but now he could picture it perfectly.

The warm winter sun poured down, and someone bundled up in cozy clothes sat comfortably in the wicker chair, with a chubby, fluffy cat curled up in their lap, enjoying a lazy afternoon together.

When the four of them returned to the childhood tutoring center, the shop was bustling with customers. Lu Yao carried three portions of cream puffs and hot drinks, calling out, “Xiao Xiao, Bai Yi, Hu Jaio, I brought you some snacks and coffee.”

“Love you, boss!” Bai Yi came out of the tutoring room, a bit excited as she took the paper bag.

Things tasted different from one world to another, and Bai Yi was particularly fascinated by these variations.

As the lunch break ended, the number of customers buying toys, snacks, and desserts gradually decreased. 444 found an opportunity to sit on the wicker chair to bask in the sun. Before long, a warm, furry presence brushed against his legs—it was Erxin.

Erxin was heavy, and holding her was difficult for 444.

But even with the cat weighing down his legs, he couldn’t bear to set it down.

The cat’s body was warm and soft, unlike his own.

Inside the tutoring room, Lu Yao walked into the office with Hu Jaio.

Lu Yao adjusted the new information and prepared for Hu Jaio’s tutoring session.

The familiar white light enveloped them, and when they opened their eyes, they were back in the familiar yet strange Jinju Community in Orange City.

Hu Jaio sat on the familiar bed, looking down at his hands and feet, his skin beneath the pajamas bruised and swollen from beatings. A thin thread of fear crept into his heart.

This time, he was back at the Hu house.

He was back—so where was Little Huqi? And Lu Yao?

Hu Jaio rolled off the bed, opened the door, and ran out.

The living room was silent, the main bedroom’s door was shut, and the man’s usual shoes were absent from the entrance. Pepper exhaled slowly, grabbed the keys with careful hands, and opened the door to run to the next unit and ring the bell.

The door opened, and a boy slightly shorter than Hu Jaio stood in the doorway, surprise shining in his eyes. “Hu Jaio-gege, good morning.”

Hu Jaio felt a sense of relief but also confusion. “Why are you at my house?”

“Who’s here?” came a familiar woman’s voice from inside the room.

Little Huqi turned back and said softly, “Mama, Hu Jaio-gege is here.”

Hu Jaio’s heart skipped a beat.

Mama?

Was he calling Lu Yao?

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Lu Yao noticed Mumu slumped in the corner of the sofa, looking listless, and walked over to poke him.

“What’s wrong?”

Mumu lowered his head, a bit embarrassed. “Budu looks a lot like you.”

Unlike him, Lu Yao had said that Budu was her child.

Lu Yao patted Mumu’s smooth forehead and sat beside him.

Not far away, Budu was sandwiched between Harold and Si Jin, reading a comic together. Harold had quickly accepted the role of “uncle” much better than Lu Yao had expected, which made her think a little deeper about things.

Lu Yao took the torn photograph from her pocket and handed it to Mumu. “This is what Budu originally looked like. I still don’t know where he came from. But he’s gentle and cute, just like Mumu. Today, he came from far away, called me ‘Mother,’ and said he would protect me. It reminded me of the day I first met you.”

Mumu’s round eyes filled with a sheen of moisture, bright and glistening as he looked at Lu Yao.

Seeing her smiling back at him, Mumu hesitantly reached out, tugged at her sleeve, and rubbed against her. “If Lu Yao likes Budu, Mumu will like Budu too.”

Slimes really were the most soothing creatures.

Lu Yao picked up Mumu and cuddled him, laughing. “Lu Yao likes Mumu, and Budu will like Mumu too.”

Ambrose, sitting nearby, watched the scene play out, even nudging Edward.

Edward shook his head, resigned.

This human had everything thought out; he didn’t even feel like meddling anymore.

But, after all, she was just a human, with a fleeting lifespan of around a century.

For beings like them, favoring a human was just a momentary diversion in their long existence.

As the night deepened, the other non-human staff members went upstairs to rest. Budu was arranged to stay on the first floor.

Lu Yao called Harold into the break room for a talk, first asking about his studies.

As an independent young dragon, Harold had no issues with his coursework.

Lu Yao also wanted to discuss Budu with Harold. Seeing Mumu’s reaction had made her thoughtful.

After listening to Lu Yao’s explanation, Harold’s tail was secretly wagging with joy, though he maintained a mature demeanor. “Lu Yao, I’m not a kid anymore. Budu is less than ten months old. As his uncle, I’ll take good care of him.”

Having spent nearly a century alone, the little black dragon had found something he never dared hope for through this human: treasures and companionship.

He was no longer alone, and his world had expanded.

He was a dragon, born to be strong.

He cherished this human and was willing to protect all that she wanted to keep safe.

Lu Yao looked at Harold in surprise. This guy had really grown up.

Is this what made raising someone rewarding?

But Lu Yao’s evident care and attention still made Harold feel bashful yet delighted.

A human’s strength was never in raw power but in a heart and mind full of warmth and intelligence.

With Lu Yao’s warm and approving gaze fixed on him, Harold’s ears grew hot. Feeling like he couldn’t sit any longer without wagging his tail, he abruptly stood and waved stiffly. “I’m going to bed. You should rest too.”

“Alright. Goodnight.” Lu Yao returned to her room in good spirits, washed up, and fell peacefully asleep.

In the adjacent room, Lu Budu sat on the floor with his back against the door, knees bent and eyes downcast, with a persistent, dark glow shimmering in his bright red eyes.

He, too, wanted to be a tool useful to his mother.

…

At the intersection of No. 66 Safflower Road, diagonally across from the “Childhood Tutoring Center,” was a café named “Happiness Café,” run by a young man in his thirties named Qin Xing.

Recently, Qin Xing found himself unconsciously glancing at the tutoring center across the street. Initially, it was out of a peculiar curiosity, wondering how long that shop in the so-called “death zone” would last. Gradually, it turned into a habit—something he would check on now and then.

Since that live stream, the tutoring center had started gaining attention, even benefiting nearby stores with increasing business.

The café was busy around eight in the morning, mostly with customers ordering take-out.

Qin Xing and his staff bustled about, making coffee and packing orders.

By nine-thirty, he could finally take a breather.

Qin Xing made himself an Americano, picked up his breakfast, and sat by the window. This spot was popular among customers, and he wouldn’t usually occupy it for himself.

But ever since the tutoring center opened, its owner would often sit in a wicker chair with a chubby cat, basking in the sun, occasionally sharing pastries with her staff, looking entirely at ease.

Qin Xing had seen it many times and couldn’t help but try it himself. It soon became a ritual.

After all, weekday mornings between nine-thirty and eleven-thirty were slow.

As he sipped his coffee and nibbled on his breakfast, Qin Xing glanced up and noticed a peculiar white van parked in front of the tutoring center.

New visitors?

The van bore the distinctive logo of the Supernatural Research Institute. Rumors had been circulating online that the institute was interested in collaborating with the tutoring center, but nothing concrete had come of it.

Could it be true that a test subject was being brought to the tutoring center for treatment?

While Qin Xing was lost in thought, the van had already left.

He saw two people entering the tutoring center, one after the other, and began to question his theory. If the research institute was indeed collaborating with the center, why would the van leave after dropping off just two people?

Besides, one of them looked familiar, possibly a tutor from the center.

Qin Xing’s thoughts spun in circles, and he wasn’t sure why he even cared.

At the tutoring center, Xie Molin led Subject 444 straight into the tutoring room.

They had arrived at just the right time, as Lu Yao had just finished a session with another student.

That student’s initial tutoring session had gone well. After receiving the memory of the session, the student felt mentally exhausted and was sitting aside, drinking tea and having snacks to regain energy.

Hu Jiao was taking photos and conducting a brief interview to gather material.

Feedback like this was essential for managing the official account, but most students were reluctant to reveal much about their private experiences. Hu Jiao’s material-gathering efforts were thus restrained, with interviews remaining text-based, and materials were not posted immediately.

Subject 444 sat nearby, curiously watching the scene.

Once the student left, Lu Yao came over to greet Xie Molin and Subject 444.

Subject 444 had changed out of the hospital gown from the rehabilitation center and wore casual clothes. However, he still looked terribly thin, even more so now than when he wore the hospital attire.

Lu Yao greeted him and gestured for him to sit down. “You came overnight—have you had breakfast?”

Subject 444’s jacket pocket held a droplet-shaped seal pup plush. While Lu Yao spoke, his fingers lightly squeezed the plush’s body, nodding stiffly.

Lu Yao checked the time; the morning’s appointments were over, leaving a window of free time. She continued, “First time in Sanhua City?”

Subject 444 didn’t know what the owner’s plan was and felt anxious, eager to skip the small talk and start the tutoring session. He lowered his eyes, nodded twice, and kept touching the plush, wondering if she wanted to check his experiment records first.

Lu Yao stood up and said, “How about we take a stroll around town? After the morning rush, I’m a bit hungry. There are some nice snack shops on this street, and it’s a good time with fewer people around.”

Subject 444 and Xie Molin were both taken aback, but before they could respond, Lu Yao turned to the quietly seated Budu. “Can you come with me?”

The other residents of the shopping street couldn’t cross into the other world, nor could the people from the other world enter the shopping street.

Lu Yao had considered why Budu had appeared so suddenly. If, as he said, he existed to protect her, then he must possess some special permissions.

Lu Budu, suddenly called upon, jumped off the table with joy. “Yes, I can go anywhere with Mother.”

As expected.

Lu Yao smiled softly, adjusting Budu’s scarf and putting a hat on him before holding his hand and preparing to leave. “Bai Bai, Xiao Xiao, please watch the store for me. We’re heading out for a bit.”

Xie Molin and Subject 444 exchanged glances, puzzled by what the owner was planning but not stopping her.

Sanhua City was also in winter, but it rarely snowed; instead, it was dry and windy, with a biting chill.

Lu Yao led Budu by the hand and turned to call back to the two lagging behind. “There’s an old man selling roasted sweet potatoes up ahead. Want some?”

Budu had never tasted roasted sweet potatoes, but he could already smell the sweet aroma from afar.

Xie Molin hadn’t eaten a roasted sweet potato in years and found the idea of eating one out on the street a bit embarrassing.

444 had eaten them when he was very young, but after years of being a test subject, his sense of smell and taste had dulled. He couldn’t remember the taste anymore and felt indifferent.

Lu Yao had already made up her mind, pulling Budu along faster.

When they reached the sweet potato stand, she handed Budu some money and showed him how to buy them.

By the time Xie Molin and 444 caught up, the sweet potatoes had been purchased.

Wrapped in sturdy paper bags, the soft and piping hot sweet potatoes radiated warmth through the bag into their hands. Holding one end, a gentle break revealed a sweet, fragrant aroma that filled the air.

Xie Molin, despite his initial reluctance, found himself swallowing involuntarily.

Lu Yao handed the last roasted sweet potato to 444, calling out to him before he could take a bite. “Hold on, let me cast a spell to make it taste even better.”

444 paused, glancing at Xie Molin, whose eyes clearly said, Is your boss serious?

From the first time he saw Lu Yao, 444 had felt something odd about her. The more they interacted, the more his intuition seemed correct.

Ignoring their reactions, Lu Yao drew a silver-white magic circle in the air and gently pushed it toward 444.

The others couldn’t see the magic circle and assumed the owner was just playing around. Only Budu saw the silver circle shrink and float into 444’s mouth.

It was a light magic, imbued with healing power.

As long as they weren’t in a place like the shopping street, where magic was completely cut off, Lu Yao’s healing magic would work, with the only difference being the degree of its effect.

This world was low on magic, but that didn’t mean magic was ineffective.

As 444 bent down to take a bite of the golden, soft sweet potato, a sweet, mellow flavor blossomed on his tongue, and his expression softened.

Xie Molin noticed. “What’s wrong? Did you burn your tongue?”

444 shook his head in a daze and slowly said, “The sweet potato… really does taste good.”

Xie Molin was speechless. “…”

There was no need to exaggerate so much.

444 saw that Xie Molin didn’t believe him and couldn’t help but explain, “I lost my sense of taste a long time ago, but this sweet potato tastes sweet.”

Xie Molin remembered 444’s experiment records. Because of his strong reaction to the experimental drugs, he had undergone many related trials, with the side effect being the loss of his sense of taste and smell.

But how had the owner noticed?

Lu Yao and Budu had already reached a stall selling pan-fried buns. When Xie Molin and 444 caught up, she pointed at the buns and said, “These fresh meat buns are especially delicious, especially when they’re fresh out of the pan. How about a serving for everyone?”

This time, 444 received his serving and stood to the side, waiting expectantly for Lu Yao.

Lu Yao was puzzled for a second, then realized and smiled, “Magic can only be used once a day.”

444’s eyes fell in disappointment.

Lu Yao added, “But the effect lasts for eight hours.”

444, who had nearly wilted, immediately revived and eagerly poked at the buns in his box with a thin bamboo skewer.

Lu Yao reminded him, “Slow down. The buns fresh from the pan are the most fragrant but also very hot.”

Earlier, Budu had burned his tongue, though luckily, as a little snow spirit, it hadn’t affected his sense of taste.

They ate and strolled, eventually circling around Sanhua Road.

The last stop was the entrance of the Happiness Café. “The fruit cream puffs here are particularly good. Want to try them?” Lu Yao suggested.

By now, Xie Molin understood that this was part of her usual routine.

Any suggestion from Lu Yao was met with enthusiastic agreement from the others.

It was 11 a.m., not quite lunchtime, so the café was nearly empty.

The four of them entered and picked a table by the window.

Qin Xing, the owner, intercepted a server and brought the menu over himself.

Lu Yao ordered a latte for herself, hot chocolate for Budu, and four fruit cream puffs.

Xie Molin ordered coffee, and 444 was keen to try it too. He had never had coffee before—he’d heard it was bitter but wanted to try.

Lu Yao intervened, “Your stomach isn’t great; black coffee is too harsh. How about something else?”

444 paused for a moment but surprisingly complied, switching to hot chocolate like Budu.

When the drinks and desserts were ready, Qin Xing once again intercepted the server and brought the tray over himself.

The café was unusually quiet at that hour. As Qin Xing approached, he overheard the lively shop owner speaking to the gaunt man, “Hmm, I think what you need isn’t just a childhood lesson but a life lesson.”

Qin Xing’s steps faltered, and an untimely thought crossed his mind:

Can life really be tutored?

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Xie Molin arrived at the psychological research and convalescence center in Lihua City by nightfall.

Carrying his bag, he stepped through the entrance, and the receptionist immediately called the director upstairs. By the time he entered the elevator, the news of his return had spread across the third floor.

As the elevator doors opened, Director Jiang stood waiting, startling Xie Molin.

“Xiao Xie, we’ve been waiting for you. Come, come, let’s go to the meeting room,” Director Jiang said warmly.

The center had been holding meetings all afternoon. The recent spike in test subject deaths had left them grasping for solutions. Unlike before, those exhibiting depressive tendencies had begun showing unprecedented aggression.

Just the day before, a test subject had cooperated with others to sneak into the lab and steal experimental drugs. By the time the researchers and psychologists noticed, it was already too late.

Xie Molin sat at the end of the conference table, listening to a former colleague report on the data, his mind involuntarily drifting to the childhood tutoring center.

The methods the convalescence center still used were ones he had developed while employed there, but unfortunately, their effectiveness had waned.

The staff had gone over these plans repeatedly, and now they were simply summarizing them for Xie Molin.

Halfway through, Xie Molin raised his hand, interrupting the colleague giving the report. “I’d like to first see the experimental subjects who were saved.”

Director Jiang immediately instructed Assistant Liu to lead Xie Molin to the ward.

The remaining staff exchanged glances, faces heavy with tension.

One person couldn’t help but ask, “Can Xiao Xie really do anything?”

Another replied, “Who knows? Just the fact that he came back to help says a lot; let’s not expect miracles.”

“I’m about at my breaking point too. Can we even find decent jobs if we leave now?”

Someone else complained, cradling his head. The daily helplessness of watching patients die was suffocating, but he didn’t have the courage to actually resign, unlike Xie Molin.

The meeting secretary, without looking up, added, “I heard Xiao Xie found a job back home, working at a tutoring center.”

Everyone at the table turned their eyes, filled with curiosity.

Sensing the prying stares, the secretary looked up, puzzled. “He posts pictures of his meals from work almost every day. Haven’t you seen his posts on PO?”

The others shook their heads. Their days were filled with work, leaving no time to follow an ex-colleague’s updates.

The meeting secretary’s connection with Xiao Xie suddenly seemed significant.

The secretary, unfazed, explained, “I just happened to come across it once. The meals he posts look quite appetizing, and sometimes he shares pictures of elegant afternoon teas. We rarely see things like that in Lihua City, so they’re probably special desserts from Sanhua City. They feel very calming, which is a comfort, especially lately, when things have been so hard. Seeing his posts sometimes gives me a strange sense of relief.”

The others found the secretary’s excuse flimsy, but pulled out their phones to check Xie Molin’s posts. Could they really be that magical?

Xie Molin followed Xiao Liu into the ward, pausing when he saw the patient.

The male test subject had once been under his care. In the few months Xie Molin had last seen him, the patient had become gaunt, his cheekbones jutting out and skin barely clinging to his frame. His eyes were dull and lifeless.

The man reclined lazily on the bed, his hospital gown hanging loosely on his emaciated frame like an empty sack filled with air. His thin wrist extended from the wide sleeve, and his eyelashes fluttered slightly, but he made no other movement.

This man had also consumed the experimental drug a few days ago. Only he and a female subject in another room had survived after undergoing gastric lavage.

But looking at him now, he seemed barely alive.

Xie Molin walked to the window in silence and spoke as gently as he could, “No. 444, I came to see you.”

No. 444 lifted his eyelids to glance at him but said nothing.

Xie Molin was familiar with this kind of silence. He pulled up a chair and sat by Bed 444, starting to talk on his own.

He didn’t mention anything heavy but shared stories about his recent work at the childhood tutoring center.

Subject 444’s gaze remained downcast, expression blank, making it unclear if he was listening.

After chatting for a while, Xie Molin noticed 444’s eyes focused on his backpack.

It was an ordinary black bag, with a chubby white seal plush hanging from the zipper on the right side.

Xie Molin held up the plush, slightly surprised. “Do you like this?”

444 blinked slowly, staying silent.

Xie Molin unhooked the seal plush from his zipper and handed it over, chuckling. “This was a gift from my boss. If you like it, it’s yours.”

He placed the plush into 444’s hand, half-expecting him to refuse. But 444’s fingers curled around it, gripping it tightly.

Xie Molin was stunned, and so was Xiao Liu, who had been quietly standing in the corner, eyes wide with surprise.

444 had shown a reaction to the outside world.

Suppressing his emotions and thinking quickly, Xie Molin suddenly suggested, “444, how about coming with me to the childhood tutoring center?”

444 held onto the plush, seemingly lost in thought, and slowly raised his eyes without speaking.

Encouraged, Xie Molin continued, “The childhood tutoring center is an interesting place. The store has a clever and greedy fat cat. The first time I went for an interview, the owner sat by the window, with shelves full of toys and snacks behind her, brushing the cat’s fur. It was quite amusing, unlike the hurried people outside, as if it were a different world behind the glass.”

In the corner, Xiao Liu lowered his eyes, shaking his head inwardly.

How could such trivial stories interest 444? The test subjects’ minds were long twisted, difficult to mend. The center’s role was limited to calming them, ensuring no more widespread self-harm occurred.

In the meeting room, the staff was engrossed in browsing PO, losing track of time.

“Why isn’t Xiao Xie back yet?” someone muttered offhandedly.

It was taking longer than expected to see a patient, even with Xiao Xie’s meticulous nature.

Having finished going through Xie Molin’s recent posts, they began searching online for information about the childhood tutoring center.

Suddenly, Director Jiang’s phone rang.

About ten minutes later, Director Jiang returned, still holding his phone. “Xiao Xie wants to take 444 to the childhood tutoring center in Sanhua City. The center has agreed to accept him, so let’s prepare.”

Someone objected, “Sanhua City is far. What if something happens on the way?”

Lately, the staff had been worn down by the test subjects’ agitation and were highly sensitive.

Director Jiang explained, “I talked with Xiao Xie. The center’s owner reportedly has a rare ability, and even Sanhua City’s supernatural research institute is interested in collaborating with her. Besides, 444 has agreed to go.”

The team was shocked that 444 had consented to leave and wondered what Xie Molin had said to him, but no one opposed the plan.

They felt as if everything had been stuck in an endless loop for too long and were hoping for a breakthrough.

…

At the childhood tutoring center.

Xu Xiaoxiao and Bai Yi had already finished their shifts and left. Lu Yao hung up her phone, stood, and called for Budu, ready to head to the nail salon to rest.

As the center’s front door slid open, Erxin dashed out like a “tiger.”

Lu Yao and Budu stepped outside and noticed Erxin hadn’t run far; she was sitting by the roadside with her tail curled, seemingly waiting for them.

Lu Yao held Budu’s hand as they walked under the eaves toward the nail salon.

Erxin followed with light paw steps, “click-clacking” across the snowy ground, as if the snow was too cold for her feet.

Lu Yao pushed open the nail salon door, and Erxin darted inside.

Meanwhile, the Alexander Continent had also entered winter. The outside was swept by blizzards, with temperatures even colder than those of the shop street.

The nail salon had long since closed for the night. The human staff had gone home, while the non-human employees were lounging in the lobby playing poker.

Lu Yao guided Budu inside and called out to the staff, “Let me introduce Budu, my child.”

The staff looked at Budu’s face, which bore an uncanny resemblance to Lu Yao’s, exchanging glances with one another.

Harold’s expression darkened immediately.

Mumu looked a bit surprised, his large, watery eyes filled with uncertainty.

The others remained silent until Ambrose casually said, “Boss, why does this kid look so much like you?”

Clarissa blinked and remarked, “Not human. Seems powerful.”

Merulu and Puxiu flew around Budu a couple of times and curiously asked, “What are you?”

Lu Yao worried that Budu might be shy and prepared to step in, but Budu was unfazed. His ruby-like eyes blinked softly as he caught the round twin fairies in his hands and spoke in a clear voice, “My name is Budu. I exist as a tool to protect Mother.”

Edward whistled.

Harold, displeased, stood up and walked over with a sullen face, scrutinizing Budu critically.

Before Harold could say anything, Lu Yao interjected, “Budu, this is Harold. Call him Uncle.”

Budu’s delicate brows furrowed slightly, but he obediently said, “Uncle Harold.”

Harold paused, unable to stay angry. He pulled a palm-sized treasure chest from his pocket and tossed it to Budu, muttering gruffly, “Take this to play with.”

With the most difficult little black dragon won over, the other staff had no objections to Budu.

Lu Yao suspected that the ease with which the non-human staff accepted Budu likely had to do with his non-human nature as well.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ji Feichen was not accustomed to situations beyond his control, especially in the past six months, where finding Lu Budu had gradually solidified his influence within the clan.

However, in this peculiar street, it felt as if he was back to the past, having lost control over the rules.

Ji Feichen didn’t truly believe that the store owner could erase the clan members’ memories, but because of Budu’s presence, he couldn’t say so openly.

After hearing Ji Feiming’s proposal, Lu Yao offered two options: “Erase their memories or sign a confidentiality contract. I prefer erasing memories, as knowing about this street has no benefit for them. On the other hand, erasing their memories would make the shopping street safer.”

The Ji clan was different from ordinary customers. They knew divine secrets and had volatile thoughts. Lu Yao believed that having Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin at the shopping street was sufficient.

The owner’s words left Ji Feiming without objections.

Lu Budu didn’t object either.

Ji Feichen had objections, but they were not considered.

Thus, Ji Feichen realized that they truly had no say.

Ji Feichen and Ji Feirong signed the confidentiality contract, becoming the only two Ji clan members to retain their memories. The rest had their memories of the morning erased.

Ji Zhixin decided to take Ji Feirong to visit the Little Pet Cafe, while Ji Feichen escorted the memory-erased, unconscious clan members back to the villa.

This matter had a significant impact within the Ji clan. Even though these dozen members had lost their memories, the city-wide search for Budu the previous day was not easily concealed. However, at least the secret of the shopping street was preserved, and the number of those in the know was greatly reduced.

As Ji Feichen left, he looked pitifully at Budu, but Budu only had eyes for the store owner.

Budu told him to escort the clan members away, with no further instructions, and no need to return.

On the other side, Ji Feirong, wearing a special wristband, stepped into the pet cafe, watching her calm demeanor slowly crumble into barely contained astonishment.

So this was the truth. No wonder Ji Zhixin and the former divine envoy willingly stayed here.

This wasn’t some rundown, abandoned street—it was practically the ultimate divine realm their Ji clan had been pursuing for millennia.

Ji Zhixin took Ji Feirong through the octopus room, the coral room, the sea urchin room, the whale room… exploring each one, and then ordered a table full of food to take to the fishing room above the water.

Ji Feirong removed her coat and shoes, sat on the edge of the pier with her feet in the seawater, and hugged a large sashimi platter. The sea breeze, tinged with light moisture, brushed her face, prompting her to sigh contentedly.

Outside, snow piled inches high, but the fishing room was as warm as early summer. There was no better place to relax.

After eating, Ji Feirong leaned against a few sunbathing waterdrop seals and closed her eyes. Before long, she had fallen asleep.

She woke up around noon and only left the Little Pet Cafe after having lunch.

Before departing, she proactively exchanged contact information with Lu Yao and even got a VIP card.

Since the shop only served regular customers, she felt reassured being just that—a customer who could occasionally visit and unwind.

Not long after, the four Ji clan members who retained memories formed a small group chat.

The secret that the Ji clan was no longer under divine protection was known only to these four.

Guiding the clan forward became a major challenge.

They would occasionally discuss it in the chat, but Lu Yao and Budu were unaware of these matters.

…

After handling the Ji clan affairs, Lu Yao and Budu returned to the tutoring center.

Xin Xin and Zhou Jing came by again, but this time, Xin Xin didn’t insist on buying the center. Instead, she picked out a basketful of snacks and a stack of manga, renting out a glass tea room to pass the time.

Lu Yao ignored her.

Bai Yi and Sang Li finalized the tutoring plan and submitted it to Lu Yao.

After adjusting the key, Lu Yao approved it.

Bai Yi officially began tutoring Sang Li.

With the tutoring center now registered with an official account, Hu Jiao also formally started his role. His current tasks mainly involved managing the official social media account, posting updates, answering fan questions, and monitoring tutoring sessions—a responsibility he would take on fully after finishing his own tutoring.

The afternoon tutoring session was for No. 52 from the research institute, again hosted by Lu Yao.

No. 52 came alone this time, bringing with him a small bone fragment.

Lu Yao’s eyes dropped to the sterile container holding the bone. “Whose bone is this?”

No. 52’s smile was gentle. “A researcher who once took care of me. Don’t worry, he’s long gone. The body is stored in the research institute, and I submitted a usage application. It’s all legitimate.”

Lu Yao looked skeptically at No. 52: “…”

His expression remained unchanged.

Not using the bone immediately, Lu Yao took out her phone and considered whom to contact. Her fingers hovered over several names—from Xiao Mei and Zheng Siyao to An Yan—before choosing to reach out to An Yan and Xiao Mei for verification.

Though she trusted A instinctively, it was better to have more sources for a well-rounded perspective.

Five minutes later, Xiao Mei responded, confirming that No. 52 had indeed applied for the bone’s use.

Another ten minutes passed, and An Yan also replied, verifying that the bone had been approved for removal.

Looking at the bone once more, Lu Yao’s emotions were complex. This was her first time handling a deceased person’s bone.

The experimental subjects in the superhuman research institute weren’t limited to numbered superhumans; researchers themselves were also subjects.

Lu Yao took the bone into the research room, ready to integrate it into No. 52’s time key.

The completed time key now bore a thin, white pattern—evidence of another person’s life records.

The research room was adjacent to Lu Yao’s office, situated just behind Bai Yi’s office.

Last night, during shop maintenance, the main body of the time machine, Alfred, had been stored in the research room.

Today, each tutor’s office had a model of Alfred, all replicas.

These replicas retained the time-travel and tutoring functions but only had a usage lifespan of three months.

Every three months, they needed to be replaced.

The information obtained by the replicas would be absorbed and preserved by the main body.

With the key inserted into the lock, a blinding silver light enveloped them. When they opened their eyes again, the surroundings had changed—they were back in the research institute from the last session.

This time was different. With the new information integrated, No. 52 was able to take Lu Yao outside.

They left the original research institute and, after a four-hour journey, arrived in another city at a new research facility.

Standing in front of the research institute’s gate, a flash of realization crossed No. 52’s eyes. So, this was where they ended up.

Lu Yao and No. 52 put on their transparent stickers and confidently walked into the Black Cat City supernatural research institute.

Whether it was due to the similar internal structure of the institutes or some other reason, No. 52 seemed familiar with the layout and led Lu Yao to start searching from the third floor. They combed through the third to sixth floors without finding anyone, then worked their way from the ninth, eighth, and seventh floors with the same result, and finally searched from the second floor down to the basement level.

No. 52’s initial high hopes turned into confusion.

“I asked him—the last researcher who interacted with my parents was here. Why is there not a single clue?”

He started doubting everything.

Lu Yao continued searching for documents in the second basement.

This research institute retained many paper documents in the basement, outside of their digital database.

The entire second basement was a massive archive, and Lu Yao followed the signs while persuading the system to help filter for keywords.

After half an hour, Lu Yao held five files, flipping through them one by one before picking out two.

“I think I found it.”

No. 52’s heart skipped a beat as he took the thick manila folder.

There was no name on the folder, only the experiment subject’s number.

A manila folder encapsulated an entire life story of an experimental subject.

At least, it detailed all the experiences after they became a subject.

No. 52 started flipping through the documents with eager curiosity, but as he progressed, each page was just another record of experiments. The pace quickened as he skimmed through the later sections.

The father’s records ended with a death entry.

There was no special cause—he simply reached the limits of his physical endurance during an experiment and died on the spot.

No. 52 put down the folder, his face devoid of expression, and picked up the other file.

The female experimental subject’s records grew more detailed after her pregnancy began. Every day of her pregnancy had been meticulously documented.

But that was it.

No. 52 kept flipping until he reached the death record.

This female subject had died six months after the male subject. Based on the childbirth date mentioned earlier, she died when No. 52 was just a year old.

No. 52 said, “I figured they were probably gone. It doesn’t really matter; I never met them.”

Lu Yao silently handed him a yellowed piece of paper.

No. 52 took it, looking puzzled.

Lu Yao explained, “It’s probably something she left for you.”

The paper was a bit stiff, with half-printed text on the back, as if torn from the label of some reagent bottle.

The slip had been inside the female subject’s file, presumably added later by a researcher.

It fell out when Lu Yao opened the folder.

The handwriting on the paper was messy and delicate, crammed with long lines of writing.

“My memory is getting worse. After taking Reagent 27, my body has deteriorated significantly, and I spend most of my time in a daze. They said that after the next experiment, I would get to see my baby. But I don’t want to. As long as I finish the next round of reagent testing, the baby will be sent to the community care center. That’s our agreement with the institute. Even though 135 and I won’t be there for him, at least he won’t have a number…”

There were a few more lines, but they were too jumbled to decipher.

No. 52 leaned against the shelving unit, his legs suddenly weak as he slowly slid down. He reached up to touch his eyes, his voice hoarse. “Strange, why do my eyes hurt so much…”

The female subject’s number was recorded as 292.

From the contents on the paper and the records in the folder, she hadn’t survived the next round of reagent testing.

Lu Yao helped the dazed No. 52 up; time was almost up.

Back in the Childhood Tutoring Center, No. 52 still hadn’t fully processed everything.

Lu Yao sat across from him, quietly waiting.

After about half an hour, No. 52 suddenly jolted awake, glancing around at Lu Yao, surprised to find himself back.

He rubbed his eyes again, sensing something odd, while the other hand still held that yellowed slip of paper.

“What’s this…”

Lu Yao explained, “It’s not uncommon for tutoring participants to receive special items during their sessions.”

These were completely different from the commemorative badges given by the tutoring center.

No. 52’s emotions, which he had tried to suppress, surged again at the sight of the paper.

Without bothering to collect himself, he stood up. “Thank you for today’s session. I think I’ll head home for now.”

Lu Yao stood as he left. In the adjacent room, Bai Yi and Sang Li seemed to have just finished their first session as well.

Xie Molin was on the phone, a look of concern on his face.

After a moment, he hung up the phone and turned to see Lu Yao. “Boss.”

Lu Yao asked, “What’s up?”

The research center where Xie Molin used to work had run into trouble. Several test subjects had died, and the situation had spiraled like an unstoppable contagion.

Since he left, things had only worsened.

Today, they couldn’t hold back any longer and called him. Xie Molin also felt the need to return and assess the situation.

He asked Lu Yao for leave.

Lu Yao approved his leave, her mind drifting back to No. 52’s tutoring session earlier.

The world was more complicated than she had imagined.

On one side, there were mass experiments erasing humanity; on the other, people fighting desperately to save broken experimental subjects.

With Xie Molin gone, Bai Yi and Sang Li emerged from Bai Yi’s office soon after.

Lu Yao was talking to Budu when she noticed their tense expressions. “Did the tutoring not go well?”

Sang Li remained silent.

Bai Yi nodded.

“What’s the issue? Tell me about it,” Lu Yao said.

She had already reviewed Bai Yi’s tutoring plan, which included clarifying the truth, restoring Sang Li’s reputation, and helping her avoid further bullying.

The tutoring process had gone smoothly without any errors.

Sang Li graduated from the session, maintaining genuine and positive friendships with her peers.

But after the tutoring, Bai Yi received a report from Alfred declaring it a failure.

And Sang Li, once her memories returned, was also dissatisfied with the result.

Bai Yi, feeling puzzled and disheartened, had discussed it with Sang Li repeatedly but couldn’t find a breakthrough. She had no choice but to seek Lu Yao’s input.

Lu Yao reviewed Alfred’s report and looked up at Sang Li.

The plan was fine, and the process had no issues, so the problem likely lay with the participant herself.

Sang Li’s expression was cold. “The tutoring felt childish, like playing house. It was too naive.”

Bai Yi’s face showed embarrassment.

Lu Yao patted her reassuringly.

Sang Li continued, “During the tutoring, I didn’t have my memories. Once I got them back, I felt sick thinking about how I groveled for acceptance from those who mistreated me. I don’t care what they think or say—I just want them far away from me, out of my world.”

As she spoke, Sang Li’s previously indifferent face gained emotion, her eyes burning with anger.

It seemed the tutoring goals had not aligned well with Sang Li’s true desires.

The incident during middle school had fundamentally changed Sang Li’s worldview and how she viewed relationships and friendships.

Bai Yi’s tutoring only skimmed the surface and hadn’t truly connected with the participant’s core feelings, resulting in this outcome.

Ultimately, childhood tutoring wasn’t about doing what was objectively right but about listening to the participant’s voice and weaving an experience that met their expectations with authentic depth.

Just as when Lu Yao tutored Xu Xiaoxiao, where a real-life news event provided a vital anchor, making the session truly effective.

Sang Li didn’t want to resolve misunderstandings or maintain a fragile facade of friendship with her classmates.

Lu Yao contemplated for a moment and looked at Sang Li. “I understand your thoughts. We’ll revise the tutoring plan. To apologize, the next session will be free of charge.”

Sang Li wasn’t sure if Lu Yao really grasped her feelings, but under the clear, gentle gaze, her inner agitation calmed. She reluctantly agreed.

After Sang Li left, Bai Yi was still downcast.

Lu Yao patted her shoulder, suggesting she talk to Xu Xiaoxiao.

To protect client privacy, Lu Yao never shared details of other participants’ sessions. But if Xu Xiaoxiao was willing to discuss her experience, Bai Yi could better understand the intricacies of the work.

…

Late night.

Sanhua City, Supernatural Research Institute.

X sat on his bed, holding a yellowed, stiff piece of paper.

No. 52 stood by the door, his face still marked with lingering shock. “Are you sure the boss is powerless? But she definitely took me through time.”

Since his return, he had struggled to process the tutoring session, feeling increasingly hollow until the pain became a dull ache.

135 and 292.

They never even left behind their names.

They also couldn’t know that he ended up with a number and lived as they once did.

X’s fingers traced the paper’s edge, his eyes glimmering with intrigue. “I am certain she has no abilities, but what you brought back isn’t fake. I’m more interested in her now.”

No. 52 asked, “What do we do next?”

X replied, “I want to meet her.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Thingyan: Could this X be the god of this world?

As the sky lightened, Lu Yao, Sang Li, and Bai Yi sat outside a noodle shop that served zhajiangmian. Surrounding them were students in black and white school uniforms.

This was the entrance to Sang Li’s middle school.

To blend in with the lively but structured atmosphere, they each ordered a bowl of zhajiangmian.

Sang Li gestured for Lu Yao and Bai Yi to look ahead at the girl sitting in the corner, two tables away. She had straight bangs and a low ponytail.

The girl had a delicate face and quietly ate her noodles.

Bai Yi blinked, surprised. “Is that you?”

Sang Li nodded.

Bai Yi’s eyes moved back and forth between the two, wondering what had happened to turn Sang Li, who was now only around fourteen or fifteen years old and looked mature with makeup, into someone so different from the quiet, gentle girl in the corner.

What had changed her?

The noodles arrived, and Lu Yao picked up her chopsticks to mix them. Though the serving was only two liang, it felt like it would be gone in just a few bites. But it smelled delicious.

This time, Bai Yi was leading Sang Li’s tutoring, with Lu Yao observing to assess Bai Yi’s ability to handle situations.

A few minutes later, middle-school Sang Li finished eating, paid for her meal, and left.

The three of them followed closely behind.

At the school entrance, a teacher was on duty, checking student IDs.

Bai Yi pulled out a special tool made by Lu Yao—a transparent sticker. The three applied the stickers and slipped into the school unnoticed.

Sang Li led them to her classroom, Class 2-4.

The bustling classroom fell silent for a brief moment when Sang Li walked in.

It was so quick that only someone particularly attentive might have noticed.

Lu Yao did, but middle-school Sang Li did not.

She didn’t notice her classmates’ fleeting expressions as she entered. She walked to her seat, took out her homework and books, submitted her work, and began reading.

Bai Yi frowned slightly and whispered to Sang Li, “What happened? The atmosphere in the class is strange.”

The three of them, wearing their transparent stickers, walked into the classroom openly and stood by the window near the podium, allowing them to observe everything below and the students entering the room.

Sang Li shook her head. “Nothing, really.”

Her expression was cold and emotionless.

She didn’t want to explain, and Bai Yi felt a hint of frustration.

She had seen Lu Yao easily gain the trust of guests during tutoring, but now that she was leading a session, she realized it wasn’t so simple.

But it wasn’t necessary for Sang Li to explain; a little observation revealed enough.

Middle-school Sang Li submitted her homework and started reading.

The boys sitting beside and behind her asked to borrow her homework to copy, and she handed it over without much conversation.

The girl sitting in front of Sang Li seemed friendly and turned around to chat with her.

When the homeroom bell rang, the literature teacher came in, and the classroom was filled only with the sound of reading.

Lu Yao and the others stayed through two classes, noticing that the students occasionally glanced at Sang Li and whispered among themselves.

Beyond that, there were no other discoveries.

The third period was PE. Worried that the transparent stickers would lose effectiveness, the three left early, found a hidden corner, and removed the stickers before wandering around the playground.

There was a hint of nostalgia in Sang Li’s eyes.

The bell rang, and the students assembled and soon dispersed.

Most of the boys flocked to the basketball court, while others played soccer on the large field. Near the sports office, there were also ping-pong tables, pull-up bars, and various climbing equipment.

Middle-school Sang Li sat on a set of parallel bars, chatting with the girl who sat in front of her that morning.

Bai Yi couldn’t figure out what had happened to Sang Li, but she sensed the subtle attitude the class held toward her. However, there was no obvious bullying or mistreatment. Bai Yi tugged on Lu Yao’s sleeve.

At that moment, middle-school Sang Li suddenly jumped off the parallel bars and headed toward the restroom near the ping-pong tables.

Their group of three would stand out too much if they all followed, so Lu Yao signaled Bai Yi to go check while she and Sang Li stayed put.

Sang Li watched Bai Yi walk toward the restroom in small, deliberate steps. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly, but her eyes were cold.

A few minutes later, Bai Yi returned, her expression complicated as if she’d overheard something important.

She looked at Sang Li for confirmation. “I heard someone confronting you about Zhuo Li giving up the Special Ability Class because of you. What’s that about?”

Sang Li explained, “Zhuo Li performed well in the ability assessment and ranked in the top 30 in the school last semester. She was eligible to transfer to the Special Ability Class. However, she said she didn’t like the environment there and asked to return to the regular class.”

The day Zhuo Li returned, Sang Li was studying. There was no seat for Zhuo Li; the two had been seatmates and were good friends. Sang Li offered her half of her seat.

It was a small, ordinary gesture.

Sang Li hadn’t known Zhuo Li was returning and didn’t discuss it with her beforehand. She only found out when Zhuo Li returned and completed the paperwork that morning.

However, later on, rumors spread around the class that Zhuo Li returned because of Sang Li. People said they were good friends, and Sang Li couldn’t bear being without her, so Zhuo Li came back.

This had been circulating for over three months, and now it was the end of the term.

That day, Sang Li was confronted in the restroom and learned about the rumor.

After gym class, the fourth period was literature. The teacher called on students to read passages aloud.

Sang Li was chosen.

She read the section calmly and sat down.

The next student, a boy, was called up to read the same passage.

After he finished, scattered applause erupted throughout the room, growing into a coordinated, sarcastic round of clapping that lasted for several seconds.

It was an unmasked show of exclusion.

Seated, Sang Li’s face remained expressionless, seemingly unaffected.

The present-day Sang Li, standing next to Lu Yao and Bai Yi, also showed little reaction while witnessing this scene.

Bai Yi frowned deeply.

Lu Yao led them out of the classroom. “That’s enough for now.”

Back at Bai Yi’s office in the tutoring center, Bai Yi began planning the session. Unlike Lu Yao, who could design a session right after reviewing the material, Bai Yi needed to consolidate the data, analyze Sang Li’s situation, and create a tailored tutoring plan.

Once the plan was completed, Lu Yao would review it and adjust the time machine for the official session.

The first time always took more preparation.

Lu Yao left Sang Li in Bai Yi’s office and went to find Lu Budu.

When Budu saw her, the previously indifferent gleam in his ruby eyes softened to a warm sparkle. “Mother!”

Sitting nearby, Xie Molin choked on air.

This kid was young, yet already had a dual personality.

Around him, Budu wore a cold, standoffish expression reminiscent of Professor An Yan’s typical demeanor—untouchable and indifferent. But when he saw Lu Yao, he acted like a puppy wagging its tail so hard it could take flight.

Lu Yao sat down beside him. “Are you bored? There are toys in the front shop. Want to pick out a couple?”

Budu wasn’t interested in toys; being near Lu Yao was enough to make him feel joy bubbling up inside.

Hu Jiao entered and greeted Lu Yao and Xie Molin.

Yesterday, he had secured a place in the same complex as Xu Xiaoxiao.

Today, he had a day off from tutoring and could rest at home. However, he had been mulling over Lu Yao’s comment about expanding the tutoring center’s reputation and came to share some ideas.

When he saw the little one sitting next to Lu Yao, he paused and glanced at her. “A new student?”

He also noticed that the child resembled both Lu Yao and Professor An Yan from the Supernatural Institute but didn’t think too deeply about it.

Lu Yao patted Budu and introduced him, “Lu Budu, my little one. This is Hu Jiao, a customer and now an employee at the center.”

Hu Jiao: “… Your child?”

Lu Yao nodded.

Hu Jiao looked at Budu again, recalling Little Hu Qi, and suddenly felt a sense of warmth. He moved closer and said smoothly, “Budu, if you ever want to go out to play or get some snacks, you can come to Brother Hu Jiao.”

Budu lowered his eyes, exuding a cold demeanor: Another one to serve Mother.

The little boy remained silent, and Hu Jiao assumed he was just shy, so he didn’t feel awkward.

Lu Yao: “Did you come for something?”

Distracted by Budu earlier, Hu Jiao nearly forgot his reason for coming. Reminded, he quickly said, “Yes. You mentioned wanting to expand the tutoring center’s reputation a bit. Given how connected everything is nowadays, why not start with a social media account? We could post updates and, when the time is right, maybe even do live broadcasts.”

Hu Jiao, who used to be a streamer, could handle managing a social media account for the center.

The largest social media platform in Sanhua City at the moment was POPO, or PP for short.

Users could register an account and post updates on PP.

Lu Yao found the idea feasible and started discussing the plan with Hu Jiao. It seemed simple enough to implement.

They registered an account on POPO named “Lu Yao’s Childhood Tutoring Center.”

The official profile picture featured Alfred with a silver ball on his back, essentially the time machine itself.

The moment the account was set up, it gained five followers immediately.

Four were staff members, and the fifth was Sang Li, who was still discussing her tutoring plan with Bai Yi.

Bai Yi, who had Lu Yao buy her a phone in Sanhua City, used it at the center and kept it in the staff lounge locker after work.

She had registered an account a few days prior and learned how to browse the local internet, fitting in perfectly.

66th Building.

Xin Xin was having breakfast.

She ate alone, nonchalantly taking out her phone to browse updates.

Despite her young age, Miss Xin Xin had nearly a million followers online.

She liked posting about her shopping experiences, and since everything she bought was luxury items, she unknowingly amassed a large following.

Today, she started her morning as usual by checking messages and private DMs on her account. Afterward, she casually browsed other posts and stumbled upon an account called “Lu Yao’s Childhood Tutoring Center.”

At first, Xin Xin thought someone had registered the account name as a joke because it only had five followers.

But upon clicking in, she saw the first post was of the lazy, overweight Sanhua Pig she had seen just yesterday and remembered vividly.

Xin Xin took a sip of milk, browsed for a while longer, then went back to the tutoring center’s account and followed it directly.

After finishing her breakfast, she jumped off her chair and called for the butler to fetch Zhou Jing.

…

With only Sang Li scheduled for the morning, there were no new customers, so Lu Yao took Budu back to the shopping street.

Lu Yao held Budu’s hand as they left the tutoring center and saw Ji Feiming and Ji Feichen talking by the roadside.

Ji Feiming noticed Ji Feichen looking stunned and, upon seeing the two, walked over. “Owner, I was just discussing with Feichen about erasing the memories of the others.”

Ji Feichen looked at Lu Yao holding hands with the child and closed his eyes briefly, stepping forward. “Lord-“

Budu interrupted, “Budu.”

Ji Feichen was puzzled.

Budu tilted his head slightly, looking serious. “Lu Budu, the name my mother gave me.”

Ji Feichen was so shocked he took a step back.

Ji Feiming was also somewhat surprised; it seemed the child was indeed siding with the owner. Yet, he still didn’t understand the connection between the two.

Ji Feichen felt deeply shaken.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

“Why does it feel like we’re heading further into the wilderness? Is Brother Zhixin really going to work?” Ji Zile studied the scenery on either side of the road. Under the blanket of snow, there were fewer houses and more trees.

Even though they suspected that wherever Ji Zhixin was working now might not be as prestigious as their family, they hadn’t expected it to be in such a remote area.

Ji Ziqing also found it strange. “Brother Zhixin’s leg has healed, and the family’s attitude towards him has changed. Yet he insists on following Uncle Ming here to Yaoguang. I thought there’d be something impressive going on here.”

Ji Zile muttered, “What impressive thing could there be in this desolate place? Brother Zhixin must have been influenced by Uncle Ming, still revering him as the former Divine Envoy. But the new Divine Child has already chosen Uncle Chen; it’s not Uncle Ming’s domain anymore.”

Back when Ji Feiming was the Divine Envoy, they rarely had the chance to see him. Even when they did, it was only from a distance, never up close.

Among their generation in the Ji family, there was always a mix of curiosity and respect for Ji Feiming, the Divine Envoy.

When Ji Feiming was chosen as the Divine Envoy, those not selected returned to the family. Some followed the family’s plans and became ordinary workers with steady jobs, while others continued pursuing the path of serving the divine.

Whichever path was chosen, during holidays and family gatherings, Ji Zhixiang and the younger members could always meet and chat with everyone.

Only the position of the Divine Envoy was unattainable.

When the old god suddenly fell, it was as if even the Divine Envoy had stepped down from his pedestal, allowing subtle feelings to fester in the shadows.

A significant portion of the family believed that the fall of the old god during Ji Feiming’s tenure was due to his failure as a Divine Envoy.

With the increasingly evident attitude of the family elders, the younger generation’s respect and feelings for Ji Feiming grew faint and complex.

When Ji Feichen discovered the new Divine Child, it was like a long-suppressed emotion had found an outlet.

Everyone, young and old, began openly expressing their dissatisfaction with the former Divine Envoy.

Ji Zhixiang felt they were following too closely. Once they were out of the city, traffic decreased, so she whispered, “Be careful, don’t let them spot us.”

Ji Zhixin glanced at the rearview mirror, his brows furrowing slightly. “I think someone’s following us.”

Ji Feiming, who usually arrived at the commercial street earlier than Ji Zhixin, was ahead of him, while Ji Feirong sat in the passenger seat of Ji Zhixin’s car.

Ji Feirong looked back and noted, “That car does look familiar.”

The familiarity came from earlier when she had glanced at the garage and noticed a car of a similar color and model.

Ji Feiming’s frown deepened, already guessing who it was, but there was nowhere suitable to stop on this stretch of road.

“Mom, call Ji Zhixiang and tell them to go back.”

Ji Feirong realized what was happening, and her expression turned a bit unpleasant. She made the call, her tone sharp and reprimanding.

These younger ones were truly being disrespectful.

When the call connected, Ji Zhixin glanced behind them. The trailing car slowed down, likely preparing to turn around.

After being scolded by Ji Feirong, Ji Zhixiang and the others didn’t dare to continue following.

Ji Zhixiang muttered under her breath, blaming Ji Ziqing for following too closely. Ji Ziqing, feeling indignant, couldn’t help but retort.

The car’s atmosphere grew tense and charged with irritation.

Suddenly, a gust of wind mixed with snow grains howled past, the force so strong that Ji Ziqing felt as though the car was being pushed forward.

The snow intensified abruptly, and within seconds, visibility dropped to almost nothing.

“What’s going on?” Ji Zile said nervously.

The strange noise only lasted for a short while. After about ten seconds, their view returned to normal.

Ji Ziqing shouted, “Look outside!”

Overnight snowfall had already piled thick along the mountain rocks, vegetation, roadside barriers, and road signs. But after what just happened, everything outside was now encased in ice.

The surface of the trees and dried grass seemed to be coated in a layer of frost, even the snow on them was enveloped as if frozen in time. Strangely, the road itself did not have any ice.

A black car sped past them and disappeared down the road.

Ji Zhixiang patted the car door, “That’s Uncle Feichen’s car. He was driving that yesterday, and the license plate matches.”

Without thinking, Ji Ziqing instinctively gave chase.

Meanwhile, Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin had already arrived at the commercial street, where they parked next to a black Bentley.

Snow had settled on the car, suggesting it had been parked for quite some time.

Noticing Ji Feirong’s gaze, Ji Zhixin explained, “Fu Chi works here too. His shift starts earlier than ours.”

Usually from midnight to late morning.

Ji Feirong was surprised, “From the Fu family?”

Ji Zhixin nodded.

Ji Feirong lowered her eyes, pondering for a few moments before glancing around.

No matter what she had imagined, she could not have guessed that Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin would work in such a place.

The area and the peculiar shops gave her an odd feeling.

It wasn’t quite fear, but rather a confirmation of her earlier suspicions.

The one who healed Zhixin’s leg was likely connected to the extraordinary.

At this point, Ji Feirong had no other desires.

After enduring those five years of hardship, whatever Ji Zhixin wanted to do now, she would no longer stand in his way.

She turned to the back of the car to retrieve the gifts she had brought.

Ji Feiming had already started his work.

He was busiest in the morning.

First, he would collect ingredients from the nail salon and the pet cafe, sorting and delivering them to the snack shop, then move pre-packaged blind boxes from the snack shop to the nail salon, stamp them, and take them to the blind box shop for stocking.

After finishing these errands, it was usually breakfast time, when he would deliver meals to each shop.

While Ji Zhixin explained things to Ji Feirong, he guessed that Lu Yao might be in the cinema, so he suggested his mother sit in the office while he went to find the shop owner.

Ji Feirong was taken aback to learn that Ji Feiming was essentially a delivery person.

It was… not what she had envisioned at all.

She couldn’t help but look at Ji Zhixin, “And what about you? What exactly do you do here?”

Seeing his mother’s attempt to maintain composure, Ji Zhixin smiled, “My job is primarily as a receptionist. It’s simple but interesting. We have a cinema, so when things are quiet, I also handle some licensing and copyright work with Fu Chi. That’s what I mostly do.”

He spoke without embarrassment or discomfort.

Ji Feirong noticed the large sign for the cinema and felt slightly relieved. There was at least some business aspect to his work, so he hadn’t completely abandoned the skills he had cultivated over the years.

But looking at these shops, none of them seemed like they had much business.

Her curiosity about the owner of the commercial street grew, though she kept her expression neutral.

Ji Zhixin left to find Lu Yao.

Shortly after, Gao Si, Gao Meng, and Liu Tang arrived together, surprised to see someone in the office.

In the cinema, Lu Yao was currently discussing an advertising project with several shopkeepers from the Great Wu Dynasty.

Recently, the cinema had undergone an upgrade and expanded to include a third floor.

The new floor didn’t have additional screening rooms but housed a photography studio for filming advertisements.

As Fu Chi’s reputation grew, any advertisement he filmed and produced, then screened in the cinema, would become an instant hit.

This innovative advertising method had gained popularity in Liangjing, and shopkeepers who reaped the benefits wanted more, while those who hadn’t yet had a chance were eager to participate, with many visiting the cinema daily.

For now, revenue from advertisements surpassed that of films.

The last two newcomers to Lingxiao Pavilion—Yiyi and Taier—had become Fu Chi’s apprentices, learning how to film ads and short films.

Fu Chi was training the two as successors for the advertising team. They were young and full of curiosity.

Though still beginners, Fu Chi was confident he could turn them into qualified advertisers.

When Ku Ba had free time, he would also attend the classes on the third floor.

This time, the advertising collaboration was with a familiar client, Chunxi Lou next door, which wanted to shoot a new commercial. The discussion process went smoothly.

After exchanging ideas, they signed the contract, concluding the meeting.

As Lu Yao came down from the third floor, she saw Ji Zhixin in the lobby and walked over quickly. “Good morning.”

Last night, Ji Zhixin had messaged her, mentioning that his mother wanted to visit.

Lu Yao saw no problem with it and agreed.

However, she didn’t expect them to come so early. After notifying Fu Chi, she walked out with Ji Zhixin.

Once outside, Lu Yao rubbed her arms. “Why does it feel colder than in the morning?”

In the office, Ji Feirong was chatting with Gao Si and the others.

Gao Meng stood up upon hearing voices. “The shop owner is here.”

Ji Feirong also looked toward the door.

However, Lu Yao and Ji Zhixin did not come inside immediately.

At the fork in the road leading from the main road, several cars had parked, blocking the way.

Bai Yi’s car was among those blocked outside. She managed to drive onto the road, only to be stopped again.

With her was Zhou Su on her electric scooter.

Zhou Su, who only had her scooter for commuting, had wrapped it in a windproof cover. Even at her leisurely pace, she had endured quite a bit of wind. All she wanted now was to get to the shop and warm up, maybe eat something hot. But at the road’s entrance, a group of people in black suits blocked her path.

Zhou Su tried to explain patiently, “I work here.”

Bai Yi also got out of her car. She immediately recognized Ji Feichen standing by the roadside. Her eyes scanned the area and spotted Ji Zhixiang and the others hiding in the distance. When she shifted her gaze, she caught sight of a child with white hair and red eyes, momentarily stunned.

The child, not very tall, stood surrounded by adults, staring intently in the direction of the commercial street.

Seeing Bai Yi, Zhou Su felt as though she’d found a savior. “Bai Yi, I don’t know what’s going on, but they’re blocking us from getting in.”

The men in black had parked a car sideways in the middle of the road and ignored Zhou Su’s complaint, appearing quite arrogant to onlookers.

Bai Yi held her back, unsure of what was happening.

These members of the Ji clan seemed different from the usual staff at the commercial street; they looked unfriendly.

But being from a branch of the Bai family herself, mentioning it wouldn’t make a difference.

She recognized the younger ones behind them, but this didn’t seem like the time to exchange greetings.

Ji Zhixiang and the others also recognized Bai Yi, puzzled by her presence there.

At that moment, Lu Yao was already walking toward the main road.

In the crowd, the child’s eyes shifted and he leaped onto the roof of the car blocking the road. A silver ice spear materialized in his hands.

Ji Feichen’s expression changed, “Lord diety!”

The child hurled the ice spear.

With a sharp “crack,” it seemed something had shattered.

But to onlookers, the ice spear hung motionless in the air.

The sound of rustling and a sharp swish echoed from above, though nothing was visible when one looked up.

Even the snow had stopped falling.

On the commercial street, Ji Feiming, who was delivering goods, suddenly faltered and nearly collapsed.

Xue Ge caught him just in time, preventing him from falling.

The other store workers, startled, quickly gathered around.

Ji Feiming steadied himself with help, his face as pale as a sheet. Without explaining, he hurried outside.

His barrier had been broken.

With the barrier shattered, the divine child wrinkled his nose slightly, and his expression relaxed.

It was indeed here.

He jumped down from the car and strode toward the commercial street.

The Ji clan, led by Ji Feichen, scrambled to follow him.

No one blocked the way anymore, so Bai Yi and Zhou Su also headed toward the street.

Ji Zhixiang and the others glanced at them without speaking and quickly followed as well.

Zhou Su maneuvered her small electric scooter around the parked car, carrying Bai Yi as they caught up, muttering, “What’s wrong with these people?”

Bai Yi frowned. “The Ji clan members are mostly like that.”

Zhou Su didn’t understand. “All of them have the surname Ji? Are they related to Uncle Ming?”

Bai Yi couldn’t be sure. “Possibly.”

Ahead, the divine child had already stopped and was staring directly at Lu Yao from afar.

Ji Feichen and his group halted behind the divine child, their expressions shifting when they saw Lu Yao.

How could it be? How could they look so alike?

Except for the divine child’s hair and eye color, his facial features were almost a perfect match with the girl in front of them.

Was there truly someone who resembled the divine child so closely?

Ji Zhixiang and the others caught up and immediately saw Ji Zhixin.

Ji Zhile asked, “Why is Brother Zhixin here?”

It was then that everyone noticed Ji Zhixin standing beside Lu Yao, with Ji Feiming and Ji Feirong emerging behind them.

The Ji clan members exchanged glances.

Ji Feichen, realizing something, turned pale. His gaze on Lu Yao changed as he murmured, “Is she the divine child’s shadow self?”

It had to be. No other explanation made sense with such resemblance and the presence of Ji clan members nearby.

But what enraged Ji Feichen was that Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin had attempted to shelter the shadow self. He realized then that the barrier the divine child broke at the road earlier must have been Ji Feiming’s work.

He shouted, “Ji Feiming, you dare to align yourself with the shadow self? And even attempt to hide it from the divine child?”

The Ji clan members behind him stirred restlessly.

The former divine envoy protecting a shadow self?

Lu Yao turned to Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin, her eyes full of confusion. “What is a shadow self?”

Everyone has both good and evil within them. An unascended the divine child naturally embodies this duality. A shadow self is essentially the physical manifestation of the divine child’s evil separated from him.

A shadow self possesses all the original’s selfishness and negative traits and wields half of the divine child’s divine power, hiding in the world like a shadow.

Only when the divine child finds and slays the shadow self, reclaiming his divine power, will he gain a complete divine nature.

After hearing the explanation, Lu Yao’s expression grew complicated. She glanced at Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin. “Do you two also think I’m a shadow self?”

Ji Zhixin stood still, while Ji Feiming reluctantly nodded.

Seeing the divine child’s photo earlier and understanding their current situation, he was convinced Lu Yao was the shadow self.

Even though her conduct was not as malevolent as recorded shadow selves, the traits and behavior of shadow selves can vary between different incarnations of the divine child.

Perhaps this the divine child’s shadow self manifested evil in subtle ways.

Despite their conviction that Lu Yao was the shadow self, Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin had chosen to protect her and even set up a barrier to hide her.

Lu Yao’s eyes showed resignation. She turned to face the divine child and the Ji clan members behind him. “My name is Lu Yao. Since birth, I have been an ordinary human. I am not the shadow self you believe me to be. If there’s nothing else, please leave. I need to open for business.”

Ji Feichen swept his gaze over the store signs on either side and scoffed. “Business in this remote place? Nonsense. Don’t think of running. As a shadow self, it is your fate to be slain by the divine child.”

His eyes shifted past Lu Yao to Ji Zhixin and Ji Feiming, voice cold. “After this matter is resolved, I’ll deal with you both.”

His gaze brushed over Ji Feirong, who stood under the eaves, and he snorted dismissively.

“Who said she’s my shadow self?” the divine child spoke, turning to glare at Ji Feichen. “Step back, all of you.”

Without waiting for a reply, the divine child strode toward Lu Yao.

Ji Zhixin furrowed his brows and silently stepped in front of Lu Yao.

Lu Yao moved aside and whispered, “I’m fine. Go check on Xiao Ji. He doesn’t look well.”

Ji Zhixin stood firm.

Lu Yao held his wrist, speaking in a low voice, “I can handle this.”

Only then did Ji Zhixin step back.

Ahead, the child quickened his pace.

Snow began to fall again, and something changed about him.

When he arrived, he was wearing the children’s clothes prepared by the Ji clan.

Unafraid of the cold, he was dressed in a black hoodie and long pants.

Now, those clothes seemed to dissolve like melting snow from his body.

He returned to how he appeared on Qianmen Mountain: a white robe reaching his knees, revealing the snow-white pants underneath, a plaid scarf around his neck, and barefoot.

Clusters of red marks, like plum blossoms, appeared under his left cheek, and a ring-shaped birthmark became visible on the skin of his right wrist.

A blood-red, jagged blade condensed in his hand, as if made from flowing blood, with a droplet of fresh blood teetering at the tip.

With this weapon summoned, the air around them grew even more tense.

Lu Yao remained calm, silently watching him approach, a strange feeling rising within her, as if she had been waiting for him for a long time.

The child stopped three steps away, unable to hide the joy in his eyes. “Mother, I’m late.”

????

Lu Yao’s composed expression began to crack bit by bit.

The snow fell heavily, the wind blew fiercely, and she felt as if she hadn’t heard correctly.

“What did you call me?”

The child knelt on one knee, performing a formal salute that Lu Yao couldn’t understand. When he raised his head, his eyes were full of adoration and reverence. “Mother, I finally found you.”

Lu Yao stared at him for a moment before looking away, stiffly raising her head to glance at the Ji clan members opposite. She spotted Bai Yi and Zhou Su behind them, blinked, then turned to the nearby staff, taking one, two, three steps back, and struggled to refute, “This is definitely not my child.”

The snow fell with a whisper, and the surroundings were silent.

Lu Yao turned back to the child, who barely reached her thigh, and shook her head forcefully. “This cannot be my child.”

It was impossible for her to have a child like this, though he did resemble her, and his hair and eye color pointed to someone she knew.

But it was too absurd!

The system, rarely seeing the store owner so visibly unsettled, chimed in cheekily: “Isn’t picking up a divine child as a bodyguard quite nice?”

Lu Yao felt exhausted. “You definitely know something. What’s going on with this kid?”

The system, clueless yet unwilling to show it, remained silent.

Seeing her anxious, nervous state was far more entertaining than her usual confident, commanding demeanor.

But more shocked than Lu Yao were the people opposite her.

When Ji Feichen and the Ji clan members heard the child’s “Mother,” they were rendered speechless.

Ji Feichen, barely maintaining his composure, took a step forward and, with a trembling voice, asked, “Divine Child, what do you mean by this?”

Divine children are typically born of the heavens; there should be no way one would have such a mother.

Rejected by Lu Yao, disappointment was evident on the child’s face. His translucent skin seemed even paler, highlighting the plum-blossom-like marks on his cheek and the birthmark on his wrist, making them as vivid as the blood-red blade in his hand.

The divine child turned to look at Ji Feichen, his expression calm. “I resemble my mother because I am her child. My shadow aspect has not separated because I cannot abandon my intent to kill. To serve by my mother’s side is my purpose, and my desire. Your clan has no inherent connection with me, yet I see that some among you have been chosen by my mother. She truly remains soft-hearted.”

The divine child’s words were like countless small daggers, repeatedly stabbing at the Ji clan members on the opposite side.

He had been sleeping in the temple and only awoke when summoned by his mother. By sheer coincidence, the Ji clan found him, disturbed his slumber, named him the divine child, and began to serve him.

The Ji clan did not know that the last covenant between them and the divine was already nullified when the old god perished.

It was mere chance that they found him again.

But he was not the god of the world, nor the god of the Ji clan.

He was just a tool to protect his mother.

Silence fell once more, broken only by the soft rustle of snow, which prickled at everyone’s hearts.

Lu Yao thought to herself that if she were five years younger, she would have stars in her eyes upon hearing such words. Now, with age, she could barely hold herself together. Her toes curled tightly inward, and she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to calm her emotions before speaking. “Divine child, why are you so insistent that you’re my child?”

Hearing his mother’s voice, the divine child felt a surge of joy. He pressed his lips together and lowered his head bashfully for a moment. Then, not wanting to keep Lu Yao waiting, he carefully took out a slip of paper from beneath his plaid scarf.

Lu Yao took the slip from his hand; it was a photograph with a missing corner, and one side was creased. She gently smoothed out the folded corner with her fingers and stared at it, stunned.

The photograph depicted two people, beaming at the camera.

Lu Yao gazed at it for a long time before crouching down beside the divine child. “Where are you in this picture?”

The divine child pointed softly to a spot. “I am here.”

Lu Yao looked closely, frozen in shock, before turning to scrutinize the divine child from head to toe.

He had already dispelled his weapon, and the red marks on his face and wrist had disappeared.

Looking at him now, he did indeed bear a striking resemblance to her.

…

The morning’s event was sudden and complicated. After examining the photograph, Lu Yao took the divine child away, leaving behind a bewildered Ji clan and the staff members.

Lu Yao sent a message instructing Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin to entertain the guests and keep them at the shopping street for now.

At least until she had the time to erase their memories before releasing them.

Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin exchanged glances, their worries easing.

Even if they wanted to chase the clan members away, those people wouldn’t leave so easily now.

Who could have guessed that even the divine child was connected to the store owner?

There weren’t many Ji clan members who had come to the shopping street—three cars and about a dozen people.

However, Ji Zhixiang, Ji Zhile, and Ji Zhiqing had followed, bringing the total close to twenty.

After Lu Yao and the divine child left, they moved the cars blocking the path, allowing Bai Yi to finally drive in.

The office couldn’t accommodate so many people, and the store owner didn’t want to use other shops as makeshift waiting areas. So, she opened up an empty store next to the office, had it tidied up, placed some chairs, and set up a few heaters to keep them warm.

Ji Feichen and two elder members of the clan spoke with Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin in the office, with Ji Feirong also present.

Ji Zhiqing, Ji Zhixiang, Ji Zhile, and Ji Zhisun sat in the newly opened store.

The shop was large but unfurnished, giving it a cold and empty feel, with only the heaters providing some warmth.

The younger members of the Ji clan sat in a circle, each with their own complicated expression, Ji Zhisun’s being the most troubled.

Just a few months ago, he had been basking in his status of serving by the divine child’s side and had even taunted Ji Zhixin in their group chat. Who would have thought that Ji Zhixin would be secretly serving the divine child’s mother in Yaoguang City, along with Ji Feiming?

The idea of the divine child having a mother was even more absurd.

That woman appeared younger than any of them and seemed to be just a human. Yet, the divine child had called her mother.

Everyone’s thoughts were tangled and difficult to express.

Ji Zhile, unable to hold back, rubbed her hands and said, “I guess Zhixin really is the most capable among us.”

After being bedridden for five years, he still managed to stay ahead of them.

Ji Zhixun pursed her lips, saying nothing.

Ji Zhixiang elbowed Ji Zhiqing. “What are you staring at? Say something.”

Ji Zhiqing withdrew his gaze. “I was just looking at the signs outside. They all have ‘Lu Yao’ written on them. That girl mentioned opening her shop, but I haven’t seen a single customer come by. Doesn’t that seem odd to you?”

Ji Zhile chimed in, “Speaking of which, didn’t Uncle Ming ask the family for more people during the summer? Do you think they might still be hiring here?”

Ji Zhixun sneered. “You’re not seriously thinking about working here, are you?”

Ji Zhile replied, “The divine child wants to stay here.”

Ji Zhixun rolled her eyes. “That’s not certain yet. How could Uncle Chen let the divine child stay here? Even if the divine child insists on staying with that girl, they could just buy this street and bring her back to Tianji.”

Ji Zhixiang and the others, who had been scolded by Ji Feirong that morning and witnessed the divine child’s defiance toward Uncle Chen, now saw that Uncle Ming and Brother Zhixin were more familiar with the girl the divine child favored. They didn’t want to agree with Ji Zhixun anymore.

Ji Zhixiang said, “Brother Zhixin is a smart person, and he’s willing to stay here. At first, they even mistook that girl for the divine child’s shadow aspect and were ready to resist the divine child for her. There’s more to this than we know.”

Ji Zhiqing and Ji Zhile nodded.

Ji Zhixun felt her control over the conversation slipping, which angered her, but she had no way to regain it.

Just then, Ji Zhixiang said, “By the way, did you see earlier? There seemed to be someone from the Bai family here too.”

Ji Zhiqing nodded. “Bai Yi, right? I’ve seen her at banquets before. I heard recently that her family arranged some job for her, and now it turns out it’s here.”

Ji Zhile added, “I saw her go into that building with the ‘Tutoring Center’ sign just now. Is she working as a tutor?”

The younger ones continued talking amongst themselves while the adults sitting nearby exchanged glances, their thoughts racing.

In the office next door, Ji Feichen and the two elders from the family looked at Ji Feiming with complex expressions.

One of the elders said, “Feiming, now that the divine child’s shadow aspect has been found, why didn’t you send word back to the family?”

This was a reprimand, despite the divine child having stated that Lu Yao was not a shadow aspect; they refused to accept it.

For some reason, Ji Feiming felt annoyed.

The divine child’s words were clear, indicating that the Ji clan no longer held the divine’s favor.

Yet these people acted as if they didn’t understand.

Perhaps the passing of time had dulled their reverence, as their privileges grew unchecked, replacing respect with arrogance like parasites infesting the once-proud, now-decaying robes of the Ji lineage.

Ji Zhixin saw that Uncle Ming was tired of dealing with them and was about to speak when one of the elders cut him off. “And you, Zhixin. You’ve been here so long without passing on any information. Did the Ji clan raise you to turn your back on it?”

Ji Zhixin fell silent as well.

The office was quiet, save for the editing team in the adjacent room, fully absorbed in their work.

They had drawn down a small bamboo curtain to block the view.

Fortunately, the soundproof glass kept outside conversations from being overheard and prevented the sound of their typing from leaking out.

Fu Chi, who had received a message from Lu Yao, came out and saw the Ji clan members, appearing a bit surprised.

But he paid them no mind. He knocked on the office door, glanced at Ji Zhixin, nodded to Ji Feirong, and spoke to Ji Feiming. “Uncle Ming, the store owner thought you might be busy and asked me to help bring breakfast.”

Ji Feiming stood up and walked out. “Go back. I’ll handle it myself. Zhixin can manage things here.”

Fu Chi didn’t press further and turned back toward the cinema.

Ji Feichen sat inside, watching through the glass as Ji Feiming walked to the small eatery across the street. He knocked, received something handed to him, and it disappeared in an instant. Ji Feiming then visited each shop, one by one, before returning to the office. After distributing items to the editing team, he finally sat back down.

Ji Feichen asked, “What were you just doing?”

Ji Feiming replied, “Working.”

Ji Feichen disliked that about him—the way he was always so blunt, direct, without a hint of tact or diplomacy.

Ji Feiming and Ji Feichen were cousins, both once had the chance to stand before the divine.

But even though Ji Feiming was highly talented, he had little standing among the brothers due to his straightforward and dull nature, transparent as glass but full of pride.

Everyone was somewhat annoyed by him.

Yet, he seemed oblivious to it.

In the end, that year, Ji Feiming was chosen as the Divine envoy.

Whether people had liked him or not, all that remained in their eyes was respect.

Times changed, and the old god suddenly perished.

Ji Feiming lost his position as the Divine envoy, and Ji Feichen discovered a new divine child.

Ji Feichen thought this would be his turn.

But in the end, it seemed he had lost again.

Did the gods prefer fools?

Ji Feichen simmered with frustration.

Meanwhile, Ji Feiming thought about how to dismiss the two elders so he could discuss future plans with Ji Feichen alone.

Lu Yao had indicated that everyone Ji Feichen had brought would need their memories erased, which wouldn’t be easy without Ji Feichen’s cooperation.

The other clan members could lose their memories, but Ji Feichen needed to know.

The divine child had said their family had lost the protection of the divine.

So what was Lu Yao? Not a shadow aspect, yet the divine child willingly accepted her guidance.

Ji Feiming felt that, regardless of what the future held, the Ji family couldn’t continue down their current path.

He and Zhixin wouldn’t leave the shopping street, but someone within the Ji family needed to know the truth and guide them anew.

Perhaps this was the beginning of living like ordinary people.

With that in mind, Ji Feiming simply asked Ji Feichen to come outside for a talk.

Ji Zhixin had to manage the elders while reassuring Ji Feirong.

Ji Feirong shook her head, not minding, her eyes gleaming with a light Ji Zhixin had never seen before.

Puzzled, Ji Zhixin asked, “What’s going on?”

Ji Feirong shook her head, unable to hide a slight smile. “I always thought what your Uncle Ming did was just nonsense. But now it seems that our Ji family really did serve a divine being.”

Ji Feirong had never been enamored with the idea of serving gods. Her interests and strengths lay in academics during her youth and business as an adult.

A family as large as theirs couldn’t survive on the men’s fantastical pursuits alone; behind them were countless “average” Ji family members carrying the weight, and Ji Feirong was one of the most outstanding among them.

Years ago, when Ji Zhixin had his leg injury, she had given up her position to focus on caring for him.

This year, Ji Feirong had reclaimed her place in the family.

She never imagined that just by coming to visit her son, she would witness such a dramatic turn of events.

Without their status as “the family that serves the divine,” would the Ji clan finally learn to keep their feet on the ground?

…

Lu Yao asked the divine child if he could enter the alternate space, and he nodded, indicating he could. So she took him inside.

As the divine child stepped into the Childhood Tutoring Center, Xu Xiaoxiao, who had just arrived, shivered and began rubbing her arms repeatedly, exclaiming, “Why did it suddenly get so cold?”

The divine child stood by the door, looking at Lu Yao with a hint of grievance.

Lu Yao asked him, “Can’t you suppress it a bit?”

The divine child tilted his head and thought for a moment. “If Mother were to gift me something to restrain my divine power, perhaps I could.”

He willingly accepted being restrained by his mother.

Lu Yao felt a bit embarrassed; the sudden role of a mother was overwhelming. When addressed as “Mom” or “Aunt” during tutoring, she never felt this flustered.

But he was stubborn, refusing to change how he addressed her no matter what she said.

Lu Yao sighed, “Is there something you want?”

The divine child’s gaze remained fixed on her. At her question, he thought for a moment, then nodded with pursed lips, “Yes.”

Lu Yao asked, “What is it?”

The divine child answered, “A name.”

Lu Yao was surprised.

He seemed worried she might refuse, his ruby-like eyes glistening with anticipation. “Every divine child is called ‘Divine One’ and has no name before becoming a god. But I want Mother to name me.”

He couldn’t fully express the feelings in his heart and looked at Lu Yao nervously.

Lu Yao pondered for a moment and asked, “Do you want to share my last name, or do you only want a first name?”

The divine child’s eyes brightened, “I want the ‘Lu’ from Lu Yao.”

Lu Yao thought for a moment, then crouched down to face him, “Alright, your name will be ‘Lu Budu.’”

Lu Budu.

She thought back to the photograph showing a tiny snow figure huddled in one corner, barely visible, contrasted with the two beaming figures at the other end—so lonely and pitiful. Now looking at the divine child before her, the name came to her mind.

Traveling alone before, but never again.

“Lu Budu.” He repeated the name softly, smiling shyly, “I like it. Thank you, Mother.”

With a name given, Lu Budu walked into the Childhood Tutoring Center without releasing cold air uncontrollably.

Lu Yao entered with him; Xu Xiaoxiao and Bai Yi were inside, about to have breakfast.

Xie Molin hadn’t arrived yet.

Seeing the child’s appearance, Xu Xiaoxiao’s face lit up with curiosity, “Boss, who is this little guy?”

He looked so much like Lu Yao, and the white hair and red eyes seemed familiar, though she couldn’t immediately recall where she had seen them before.

Bai Yi’s eyes were also filled with curiosity.

She had only half-understood the commotion outside earlier. All she knew was that this child’s identity was extraordinary, and he had called Lu Yao “Mother.”

Unable to hold back, she asked, “Boss, is this really your child?”

Xu Xiaoxiao nearly spit out her soup; she had thought he might be a younger brother.

After all, Lu Yao looked like a recent university graduate, and this child appeared to be at least four or five years old.

Just then, Xie Molin arrived. His first glance confirmed that the tutoring room had indeed been transformed overnight as planned by the boss.

Whether the others had already talked about it or hadn’t noticed, they seemed to be discussing something else.

He set down his bag, “Morning.”

Everyone exchanged greetings and settled down for breakfast.

Xie Molin spotted Lu Budu and gave a questioning look to his colleagues.

This child looked so much like Lu Yao and that other person.

Hadn’t anyone else noticed?

Lu Yao and Lu Budu sat off to the side. She opened her meal container, steam rising as she asked, “Budu, can you eat?”

Wouldn’t this warm meal melt you?

Lu Budu shook his head, his eyes bright as he answered, “I can.”

Lu Yao found a clean set of dishes and split half of her breakfast for him.

Bai Yi asked, “Who is Budu?”

Lu Yao introduced, “Lu Budu, that’s his name.”

Bai Yi was surprised and asked again, “Boss, is this really your child?”

Lu Yao thought for a moment and nodded, “Yes.”

She had privately asked Budu, and he confirmed he was indeed the lonely little snow figure in the photograph. He hadn’t explained it very clearly, but the general idea was that she had made the snow figure, although she had no memory of it.

Due to some complicated reasons, he had gained consciousness and became the divine child.

In his eyes, Lu Yao was his mother.

Lu Yao sensed that Budu was still holding back some information, but she wasn’t in a hurry to press him; she had too much on her plate at the moment.

The tutoring center was busy with daily appointments, and after handling this, she still had to deal with the matters involving the Ji clan.

She intended to accept the divine child.

From the first glance, she noticed that Budu not only resembled her but also looked like A.

And with that photograph, it felt as if certain things were beginning to surface.

Xie Molin studied Lu Budu, unable to resist pulling out his phone to contact Du Qiuling.

Du Qiuling had just returned to the office after making his morning rounds and finally saw the message.

[Xie Molin: Senior, I discovered that our boss and An Yan from the Supernatural Institute seem to have an unusual relationship.]

[Du Qiuling: ???]

[Xie Molin: They have a child.]

[Du Qiuling: !!!!!]

Xie Molin dropped this bombshell and then went silent, as a customer had arrived.

The morning appointment was with Sang Li, and Lu Yao planned for Bai Yi to lead the session. However, as it was Bai Yi’s first time handling a tutoring session alone, Lu Yao intended to supervise the whole time.

Lu Yao said to Budu, “Stay in the store; I’ll be back after I finish my work. It won’t take long, just a few minutes.”

Budu nodded obediently.

Afterward, Lu Yao, Bai Yi, and Sang Li went to Bai Yi’s office with their materials, and Sang Li’s childhood tutoring began.

Sitting across from Lu Budu, Xie Molin felt a gnawing curiosity. He desperately wanted to ask the child if his father’s name was An Yan.

The boy’s features and aura resembled the boss, but the striking white hair and red eyes were too distinctive.

In all his life, Xie Molin had only ever seen An Yan with such rare genetic traits, though even the institute hadn’t pinpointed the exact reasons behind it.

An Yan was cold and formal.

No matter how much Xie Molin stretched his imagination, he couldn’t picture An Yan and his boss as a couple.

He had a bit of an obsessive streak and felt unsettled until he had answers.

After debating with himself for a while, Xie Molin finally asked softly, “Budu, where’s your father?”

Budu frowned, “I don’t have a father.”

Xie Molin: “…”

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Lu Yao wanted Bai Yi and Xie Molin to become familiar with the workings of the tutoring center as soon as possible, so she had been carefully guiding them over the past few days.

Xu Xiaoxiao, who usually studied diligently, often sought advice from Lu Yao. Now that Bai Yi and Xie Molin were part of the team, she also turned to them for help. She soon discovered that, although both were knowledgeable in psychology, their theoretical explanations were notably different.

Bai Yi, after learning about Xu Xiaoxiao’s curiosity, calmly explained, “Even within psychology, there are many branches. Xie Molin and I studied different specializations, so naturally, our theories differ.”

Hearing this, Xu Xiaoxiao found the explanation reasonable, putting her small doubts to rest.

With the convenience store and the glass tea house gaining steady business, Lu Yao posted new job openings, anticipating that Xu Xiaoxiao would transition to being a tutor. She announced the hiring of two new staff members: one as a clerk for the convenience store and one as a server for the glass tea house.

When Xu Xiaoxiao saw the new job postings, she remained silent but focused even more intently on her studies during her breaks.

At lunchtime, everyone was gathered in the break room, including Hu Jiao. He mentioned that the shop owner and his mother had helped him get out of the research institute, which surprised Xu Xiaoxiao and Xie Molin.

When times were tough, Xu Xiaoxiao had once considered becoming a test subject but found the idea too terrifying and held on with gritted teeth. Her brows furrowed deeply, and her eyes filled with complex emotions as she quietly asked, “That must have cost a lot of money, right?”

Hu Jiao’s expression mirrored hers, equally complex. “I don’t know; Lu Yao didn’t say. But she did mention that once I finish my tutoring, she’d like me to stay and work here as a monitor. She said my ability is quite useful.”

What Hu Jiao didn’t say was that he had initially lost much of his will, but now, owing this debt to the shop owner had rekindled his fighting spirit.

Xu Xiaoxiao nodded. “So, you’re the monitor she mentioned. The shop owner must have planned this for some time. Where are you staying now?”

This was a concern for Hu Jiao as well. He had spent all his savings, thinking he wouldn’t need a backup plan. Now, without a formal job and needing to continue his tutoring, he had to plan his remaining funds carefully.

Xu Xiaoxiao said, “I live in an apartment complex with single units. The space isn’t large, but it’s comfortable for one person, and the rent is reasonable. If you’re interested, I can give you the landlord’s contact number.”

Hu Jiao’s eyes lit up as he took out his phone to note down the number. “Thanks, Xiaoxiao-jie.”

Since her tutoring ended, Xu Xiaoxiao’s naturally cheerful personality had fully emerged. She got along well with everyone at the shop, and while Bai Yi was quieter and more professional, she occasionally joined their conversations.

Only Xie Molin sat silently, eating his meal while thinking about how Lu Yao managed to get Hu Jiao out of the research institute. He knew the ins and outs of those places better than Xu Xiaoxiao and Hu Jiao did. Considering the negative impact of Hu Jiao’s viral live broadcast, the shop owner must have put in significant effort to get him out.

At noon, Lu Yao checked on the shopping street. Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin had already gone back out after lunch.

The shopping street was located in a remote area, facing a river on one side and a mountain on the other, made even more challenging to navigate with the heavy snowfall.

In the morning, the uncle and nephew wore anti-slip boots and thick winter coats, mapping out a route for the barrier around the shopping street. In the afternoon, they began setting up the barrier point by point.

Ji Feiming didn’t explain to Lu Yao how the barrier worked; Ji Zhixin only learned by observing as Ji Feiming set it up.

The entire mountain had twelve points, each marked with ancient symbols drawn in blood.

Once all twelve points were connected, the barrier would be complete.

By evening, the snowfall grew heavier. Watching his uncle’s increasingly pale lips, Ji Zhixin felt concerned. “Uncle, can we use my blood instead?”

Ji Feiming shook his head and motioned for him to keep moving. “Just two more points left. Help me move faster.”

After a few steps, he couldn’t help but remark, “This wasn’t as taxing before. Since the Old God’s death, my power has all but dissipated. Now, I can only use blood as a medium.”

Ji Zhixin thought of Lu Yao’s question that morning and grew even more curious. “Why did the Old God…”

Ji Feiming walked along, a hint of confusion in his eyes. “Honestly, I can’t fully remember.”

At that time, the Old God had instructed him to stay behind and guard the sacred mountain, claiming there was a task to complete and forbidding him from following. He only remembered that the Old God had left and did not return for seven days.

One afternoon, while Ji Feiming was cleaning the temple, the Old God’s presence suddenly vanished.

Not long after, the 955 Special Department in Yuheng City also sensed something unusual. Following that, the evil spirits of the world seemed to naturally disappear, becoming undetectable.

At that moment, Ji Feiming felt immense fear. He had thought his entire life would be devoted to serving at the side of a deity. After all, as long as their family continued to serve the deity, the deity would not fall.

This was actually a kind of compromise.

Deities needed faith, and the Ji family needed glory. So, generation after generation, they served the deity to maintain belief and prevent it from fading away.

Unlike the world of Eden Sea, in Ji Feiming’s world, divine power gradually waned, until it could only protect a single family.

After the Old God’s demise, Ji Feiming contemplated deeply and came to this conclusion. Perhaps it was precisely because of the weakening divine power that the world did not collapse after the deity’s fall.

Yet now, with the connection between the Child and the shop owner, Ji Feiming felt uneasy. The Old God’s death might not have been as simple as he had thought.

The two walked on, stopping and starting, and finally completed the barrier just as night fell.

While Ji Zhixin felt nothing, Ji Feiming could see it—a thin, veil-like, pale red light shield rose over the shopping street as the last blood mark was completed.

Winter days darkened early, and the employees of the shopping street were finishing their shifts one after another.

When the Ji uncle and nephew returned, only Lu Yao was sitting under the eaves, wrapped in a long winter coat and scarf, holding a cup of hot milk tea.

Pounce, Tape, and Sugar had grown up by now. With their fur fluffed up from the cold, they looked like balls of cotton and clung to Lu Yao for warmth. The cats sprawled over her boots and legs, making her feel cozy all over.

Lu Yao had closed the tutoring center early that day, anticipating an upgrade that required the shop to shut down. She had come out of the store to find heavy snow falling over the shopping street and had stood under the eaves watching for a long time.

When the employees from the surrounding shops clocked out, she fetched the chubby cats from the pet cafe and sat under the eaves, petting them and watching the snow. Gradually, her restless thoughts calmed.

The streetlights along the shopping street glowed softly, their warm yellow light casting a gentle hue on the snow, making it appear warm.

Spotting two shadows approaching in the distance, Lu Yao squinted for a moment and waved when she recognized the Ji uncle and nephew.

Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin went to wash their hands in the office, and Lu Yao moved back indoors. The three of them sat around the fire, and she poured each of them a cup of milk tea. Once their bodies warmed, they each grabbed a cat to hold, letting the warmth soothe their chilled limbs.

Lu Yao asked, “Is the barrier complete?”

The Ji uncle and nephew nodded.

Seeing that Ji Feiming’s face was slightly pale, she asked if he was feeling unwell. He shook his head without explaining why.

Lu Yao stood up, preparing to get some hot food from the snack shop.

Ji Zhixin’s phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and picked up the call, spoke briefly, and hung up.

Without hiding anything from Lu Yao, Ji Zhixin reported, “The Ji clan members have arrived in Yaoguang, even my mother is here.”

Ji Feiming stood up seriously. The two watched Lu Yao walk into the nail salon with the three chubby cats before turning and leaving.

…

When Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin returned to their lodging, they found Ji Feirong and several younger clan members sitting in the downstairs living room.

The rest of the direct-line clan members had dispersed to various locations, attempting to intercept the Child.

Ji Zhixiang, Ji Zile, and Ji Ziqing immediately stood up when they saw Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin.

Originally, Ji Feichen had kept the news tightly under wraps, but Ji Zhixun accidentally let it slip while arguing in the group chat, so these younger ones, who happened to be in Tianji, tagged along.

Since the Child had gone missing and people were needed for the search, Ji Feichen selected a group of direct-line clan members.

However, upon arriving in Yaoguang City, Ji Feichen only utilized the group that had originally accompanied him to Qianmen Mountain and some more seasoned elders. The three younger Ji clan members were left at the villa.

Ji Feirong came along mostly for the ride; she just wanted to check on Ji Zhixin. She had little interest in matters involving deities or the Child. Rather than relying on the precarious protection of deities, she trusted herself more.

But seeing Ji Zhixin walking towards her now, seemingly unaffected, stirred a mix of emotions in her heart. The matter of how Zhixin’s leg had healed still remained a mystery.

Ji Feirong thought she should meet Ji Zhixin’s current boss this time.

“Mom, have you had dinner?” Ji Zhixin asked.

Ji Feirong shook her head. “I was waiting for you all.”

Ji Feiming, looking exhausted, headed straight upstairs. “You all eat; have my meal sent up.”

The younger Ji clan members exchanged glances. Uncle Ming’s temperament was as proud as ever.

Ji Zhixin offered an explanation, mentioning that Uncle Ming was tired from work.

The younger ones took the opportunity to ask about their work and chatted amongst themselves, occasionally exchanging knowing looks, thinking no one noticed.

Ji Zhixin felt irritated and, after eating, also went upstairs.

Later that night, Ji Feirong knocked on Ji Zhixin’s door and expressed her wish to meet Lu Yao.

Ji Zhixin hesitated.

According to Uncle Ming, the Child was currently looking for Lu Yao, making this an inconvenient time for a visit.

Seeing the hesitation on his face, Ji Feirong’s suspicions grew. “Is it inconvenient?”

Ji Zhixin asked Uncle Ming for advice and privately messaged Lu Yao. After receiving a reply, he nodded.

The next morning, Ji Feiming and Ji Zhixin got up as usual, finding the downstairs quiet.

It seemed that no one had returned last night, and the younger ones were still asleep.

Spotting Ji Feirong in the kitchen, Ji Zhixin looked surprised. “Mom, why are you up so early?”

Ji Feirong was preparing side dishes while porridge simmered on the stove. She spoke softly, “I figured you’re busy with work and probably don’t pay much attention to eating. Since I’m heading out with you all later, I thought I’d make breakfast.”

There was a housekeeper at home, but during the years when Ji Zhixin’s leg was in poor condition and he was particularly stubborn, he refused help from others. Back then, Ji Feirong was the one who took care of him.

Her cooking skills were honed during that time.

Ji Zhixin had originally planned to take Ji Feirong to the Little Pet Cafe for breakfast, but now it didn’t seem appropriate to say so.

He hadn’t had his mother’s cooking in a long time, and the familiar aroma did make him feel a bit hungry.

Ji Zhixin sat down and called Ji Feiming over as well.

The three of them sat in the dining room, each with a bowl of porridge, two plates of side dishes, and a serving of soup dumplings.

Once breakfast was finished, the dishes were placed in the dishwasher, and the three of them headed out one after another.

As the sound of the front door closing echoed, Ji Zhixiang, Ji Zile, and Ji Ziqing ran down the stairs, hurriedly put on their shoes, and chased after them.

Ji Ziqing was driving, with Ji Zhixiang in the passenger seat.

Ji Zile, sitting in the back, leaned forward, gripping the seatbacks and keeping his eyes fixed on the rear of Ji Zhixin’s car. “Is it really okay for us to follow them like this? If Zhixin didn’t want to reveal where he works, it must be because he’s embarrassed about it. Waiting at home for news about the Child would be much better. It’s freezing this early in the morning.”

Ji Zhixiang was excited. “Even if there’s news about the Child, it won’t be our turn to hear it. We might as well find out what Zhixin and Uncle Ming have been up to. Yesterday, Uncle Feichen mentioned Uncle Ming. I’m curious about what he’s been doing lately. If we hear anything useful, we can report it to Uncle Feichen.”

With this, the younger ones grew more intrigued.

The three cars drove one after another out of the city and gradually headed towards the outskirts.

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