Author Archives: Thingyan

Ch 112 (Extra 12): After My Mother Returned to the Rich Family

[Softening Up CP (8)]

Some people in their social circle didn’t approve of Ruan Cha and Fu Chen getting engaged in their freshman year. While both were undeniably outstanding, they were still too young, and the odds of things changing in the future seemed too high.

The doubts weren’t baseless. There had been other couples in their circle who got engaged during high school or college, but very few actually made it to marriage.
Some drifted apart and separated peacefully, some couldn’t restrain themselves and ruined their relationships, and some found that changing family status or benefits made the engagement useless.

At the time of their engagement, people had considered Ruan Cha and Fu Chen well-matched. While the Ruan family’s heritage couldn’t compare to the Liang family’s, its businesses and connections were strong, and the support of the Liang family only added to it.

However, after Fu Corporation launched their full-dive VR game, it became clear the Fu family had surged ahead of both the Ruan and Liang families. Their fully-developed holographic technology wasn’t just unique in China but was also leading globally.

The Fu family, a long-standing powerhouse in commerce, had leveraged the technology and government connections under Father Fu’s leadership, drawing plenty of envy.

Full-dive VR—
A field the world had speculated about for decades, and the Fu family had actually realized it, achieving an astonishing 85% realism rate!

Those who didn’t know the bond between Ruan Cha and Fu Chen began betting on when they would break up, assuming Fu Chen would eventually fall for another wealthy heiress.

After all, in this space, aside from government research, only Fu Chen’s company held the crown. With no competitors, there was no shortage of people eager to sabotage or steal.

Some tried honey traps, some resorted to corporate espionage, others attempted to poach talents—but they all failed.

Honey traps?
Fu Chen never gave them the chance.

Steal or spy?
The core team never even grasped the key breakthrough. At best, they could only reproduce 60% realism, unable to even understand the principles.

No one was interested in cheap imitations once the real gem existed.

Some schemers tried to stir up division between the Fu, Liang, and Ruan families, accusing Fu Chen of hoarding the tech and being selfish for not sharing it with the other two families.

Before these rumors could even gain traction, in Ruan Cha’s junior year, a second full-dive VR game hit the market—with a stunning 90% realism rate!

#Three Whales “Planet Management Handbook” full-dive VR game beta recruitment!#
#Three Whales press conference featuring Ruan Cha#
#Planet Management Handbook achieves 90% realism!#

Ruan Zhengfei, seeing the importance of advertising, openly spent money to buy three trending hashtags on Weibo—all for one reason: to promote his precious daughter Cha Cha!

In his eyes, Ruan Cha had been working on “Planet Management Handbook” since high school and had balanced both work and studies in college. If he couldn’t help with the workload, at least he could throw money at publicity. As he joked, maybe a little shamelessly:
“Spending money? That’s the easy part.”

During the live broadcast for the press event, Ruan Cha appeared publicly for the first time as lead game designer, joined by Fu Chen as chief technical officer. Together they explained how the full-dive VR version of “Planet Management Handbook” differed from the mobile version and showcased its rich gameplay.

The mobile game had already earned a loyal following for its innovative world-building and massive in-game library. Now, with the VR version at 90% realism, even people who had never played games clicked on the trending tags out of curiosity. The stream exploded past 100 million views!

If the Fu family’s first VR game had redefined the full-dive genre, then the 90% realism of “Planet Management Handbook” pushed the boundaries of the entire industry once again.

The Three Whales livestream was relaxed: soft lounge sofas, fruit platters, dried snacks, and even squid jerky and spicy duck gizzards were scattered around.

Ruan Cha focused on explaining the game’s design and occasionally snacked, barely interacting with Fu Chen. But even their occasional smiles and the unspoken understanding between them made the viewers swoon:
“This is what true love looks like!”

That rare mutual understanding, where no extra words were needed to anticipate each other’s thoughts, left people full of envy.

As the livestream neared its end, the host selected a few of the most frequently asked viewer questions.

The host glanced at Ruan Cha, then at the nearly empty snacks on the table, momentarily speechless.

It had to be said, Ruan Cha had truly treated the stream like a tea party, snacking comfortably throughout, to the point that even the host was starting to feel hungry.
“Cha Cha, a lot of people are curious about your plans after graduation. Someone asked if you intend to continue working in the full-dive VR game industry after college? Will you and Fu Chen team up to try and create a 100% realistic VR game?”

“Ah? Full-dive VR?” Ruan Cha, sipping juice, casually patted Fu Chen’s arm.
“Whether 100% realism can be achieved depends mainly on Fu Chen or others. I can’t do it.”

Fu Chen had spoken very little during the stream, mainly explaining technical details about the game. Now that Ruan Cha had called him out, he simply nodded lightly to show agreement.

“But Cha Cha, you designed the hugely popular Planet Management Handbook mobile game back in high school. Don’t you plan to keep working in game development?”

Ruan Cha thought for a moment.
“I might chat occasionally with the planning team about game ideas, but most of my time will go to my future career.”

The host was clearly stunned.
“Career?”

In the host’s mind, Ruan Cha was a textbook life winner—wealthy, well-connected, talented, and having developed a mobile game that exploded nationwide and eventually led to a full-dive VR version.
And now she was walking away from the most lucrative path to pursue another job?

Seeing the host’s confusion, Ruan Cha chuckled.
“My major is psychology. Naturally, after graduation I’ll find a job in my field.”

The host: “…”

The livestream audience: “…”

They had nearly forgotten that Ruan Cha had earned her spot at Jing University with a score of over 740—an undeniable academic prodigy!

And then the real kicker hit.

They had the same 24 hours in a day…
Ruan Cha maintained straight-A grades at Jing University, helped design a blockbuster VR game, and still found time for hobbies.
Meanwhile, they were sleeping in, ordering takeout, scrolling their phones, and suddenly realizing it was midnight again.

The host also hadn’t expected that Ruan Cha studied psychology not just to pass time, but because she genuinely intended to become a psychologist.

After discussing work, it was time for relationship questions.

“Cha Cha, you and Fu Chen have been engaged for two years now. Do you have any plans to get married soon?”

“Of course,” Ruan Cha answered cheerfully, without hesitation.
“Fu Chen and I plan to get married right after graduation.”

Before the audience could even react, she added,
“And when we do, Planet Management Handbook will have an in-game celebration event. It won’t be any less generous than the last Library event.”

At the mention of the Library, everyone immediately thought of the famous in-game event where players had received the equivalent of 10,000 yuan each.
Not less than that?

Holy—don’t stop them!
They were already mentally preparing to log in on Ruan Cha’s wedding day and volunteer to be virtual flower girls at her and Fu Chen’s ceremony!

Fu Chen turned his head slightly to glance at Ruan Cha’s sparkling eyes.
In that moment, his heart melted all over again.

Friends often teased him for doting on Ruan Cha too much, being overly attached, and being way too cold to any potential “admirers.”
But they didn’t understand Cha Cha’s goodness.

In their relationship, it was never one-sided. The care had always been mutual.
All along, Cha Cha had used her own way to show him, crystal clear, that she held him in her heart and loved him deeply.

The insecurity that often comes from lack of trust in a relationship had never existed between them; Cha Cha had always given him her full trust.

Fu Chen lowered his eyes, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. Such a thoughtful, adorable Cha Cha—he wanted to cling to her for life.

That same day, the livestream had already shocked the internet with the announcement of a 90% realism full-dive VR game, but what really sent people over the edge was the announcement of Ruan Cha and Fu Chen’s engagement.

There was only one sentiment shared by the netizens:
You two must stay together forever. We brought the marriage registry office here, and we swallowed the key!

Thanks to the internet’s enthusiastic fans, Ruan Cha and Fu Chen got their first wave of shippers: the “Softie CP” (Fu-Ruan CP).

However, the day after the livestream, the couple vanished from the public eye. They never posted about their personal life on social media. Fans could only occasionally catch small updates from fellow students at Jing University.

Naturally, there were skeptics too. Keyboard warriors under the trending full-dive VR game tag coldly predicted they would eventually break up.
But few paid them any attention.

Time would tell everything.
Even if they did break up in the future, wasn’t the love they had now something enviable in itself?

Besides, even if more people these days were opting for single life and some no longer believed in love, that didn’t mean they couldn’t believe in someone else’s love!
Life was already hard enough; people needed something sweet to hold onto.

As for the couple themselves, they had also heard about the “Softie CP” craze online.

“Softie CP?”
In a private basketball gym, Ruan Cha was holding a basketball in one hand and scrolling her phone with the other.
Seeing the newly coined couple nickname and reading the fans’ imaginative fiction, she burst out laughing.
“These people really have wild imaginations.”

Fu Chen, who was helping Ruan Cha strap on wrist guards, glanced at the phone and smiled warmly.
“Fu Chen, Ruan Cha… Fu-Ruan… Softie. Cha Cha, it seems we really are meant to be.”

If it was with Cha Cha, he was willing to be soft forever.

The two of them had taken extra credits in their first three years of university, so their senior year was nearly free of classes. Bored one evening, Ruan Cha impulsively asked Fu Chen to teach her how to play basketball.

Ruan Cha was momentarily stunned by Fu Chen’s “meant to be” line. Holding back a laugh, she nudged him with her elbow.
“Alright, Coach Fu, please get on with the lesson. No goofing around.”

Fu Chen raised his hand in a playful salute.
“Roger that.”

“Roger?” Ruan Cha caught on immediately.
“Does that mean there’s a KPI requirement? Like having the student make a certain number of three-pointers?”

Having already seen her skill (or lack thereof) back in town, Fu Chen’s handsome features showed a trace of helplessness.
“I apply to just hold you up so you can reach the hoop directly. Otherwise… we can try it.”

Fu Chen worried that if she didn’t land a single shot, she’d lose sleep over it the whole night.

“…”

Ruan Cha stared at the basketball in her hands, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration.

She had practiced and been taught by Fu Chen countless times, yet she still couldn’t make a single shot!
In every other sport she picked things up quickly, but with basketball… it was like she was cursed.

Taking a deep breath, she whispered,
“Again.”

Seeing her puff out her cheeks in determination, Fu Chen smiled knowingly, thinking her frustration had probably reached its peak.

He spread his arms and got into a defensive stance.
But before he could fully prepare, Ruan Cha suddenly launched the ball without warning.

The ball flew behind him out of sight.
Just as he was about to turn around to check, he was yanked forward by the collar of his shirt.
In the next second, something soft and warm pressed against his lips.

Ruan Cha had grabbed Fu Chen by the collar with one hand and looped her other arm around his neck, giving him a quick peck.
Then she grinned mischievously.
“I scored.”

Fu Chen instantly understood, and dotingly nodded.
“Mhm, I heard it go in.”

Looking into Fu Chen’s dark eyes full of warmth, Ruan Cha leaned up and kissed him again.
“Fu Chen, it’s been three years. There’s something I’ve never had the courage to say.”

“I love you. I love you very, very much.”

In that instant, Fu Chen felt like fireworks were exploding in his mind, just like on New Year’s Eve.
The warmth and joy lingered in his heart, leaving behind fragments of happiness that would probably stay with him for the rest of his life.

He couldn’t hold back the surge of emotion and pulled Ruan Cha into a tight embrace.
With a soft sigh, he whispered sincerely,
“Cha Cha, I’m going to your house tonight to ask your father if we can just get married tomorrow. Do you think he’ll throw me out?”

Ruan Cha: “…”

Most likely… he would.

…

Thingyan: Last extra is password locked. Pw is chachacha

Ch 111 (Extra 11): After My Mother Returned to the Rich Family

[Softening Up CP (7)]

The sky was a brilliant blue, with clouds as white as snow.

A passenger plane took off from Beijing Airport and climbed into the sky.

South City and Beijing, one in the south and one in the north, were about two hours and fifty minutes apart by air. The first-class cabin was full, and Ruan Cha and Fu Chen were seated in the first row.

After pulling a couple of all-nighters preparing for the upcoming launch of the VR game at Three Whales Company, both of them had fallen asleep with their eyes closed.

[Classmate Ruan Cha, I’ve detected that Classmate Fu Chen is asleep, though it’s very light. A slightly louder noise might wake him up.]

The soft electronic voice of the system sounded in Ruan Cha’s ear.

The next moment, Ruan Cha opened her eyes sharply, not a trace of sleepiness in her clear dark gaze.

She turned her head slightly to look at Fu Chen. He had a thin blanket over him; his long lashes cast faint shadows under his eyes. The sharpness of his features had matured since high school, but there was an unusual hint of exhaustion between his brows.

There was only one week left before Lunar New Year. After finishing the final preparations for Planet Manager’s Handbook, they packed up and flew home to South City.

[Classmate Ruan Cha, aren’t you going to sleep?]

The system had been specifically instructed by Ruan Cha before boarding: notify her the moment Fu Chen fell asleep. The system had been confused about the purpose at first.

Wait—!!!

The sticky rice ball-shaped system, perched on Ruan Cha’s lap, suddenly jumped up, its whole body squished out of shape in shock.

[Classmate Ruan Cha, don’t tell me… you’re planning to do something naughty to Classmate Fu Chen while he sleeps?!]

Ruan Cha: “…”

1128, be honest. What kind of novels have you been sneaking around reading online? I already thought it was suspicious when I caught you staying up late to read Jin Ping Mei!

Ruan Cha shook her head and couldn’t be bothered to argue with the system about its nonsense. “1128, aren’t you supposed to be sensitive to human emotions? Haven’t you noticed something odd about Fu Chen’s mood lately?”

[Odd? I haven’t noticed any abnormality in Classmate Fu Chen, except he’s a bit clingier to you than before.]

Originally, the system hadn’t thought much of Fu Chen, its attention solely focused on Ruan Cha. But after fully merging with the antivirus program, the system could no longer treat Fu Chen as an outsider.

After all, without Fu Chen’s help in the previous life, the system would have been destroyed. There would have been no chance to change this timeline and correct its past mistake by defeating Ren Qingqing and Yu Zheng.

Now, having accepted Fu Chen as an important person, the system naturally monitored his mental and physical condition. According to its readings, Fu Chen was perfectly healthy.

But Ruan Cha gazed at Fu Chen’s sleeping face, a thoughtful, unreadable look in her eyes. “He’s too clingy… I think he’s feeling anxious.”

Back when her roommates had teased her about how clingy Fu Chen had become, Ruan Cha had brushed it off as a joke. After all, they did spend a lot of time together.

But slowly, she realized something was off. Fu Chen’s behavior had subtly changed from when they first started dating.

It wasn’t the suffocating kind of possessiveness that demanded to know where she was at all times or made her feel trapped. Quite the opposite—Fu Chen had always made her feel relaxed and respected.

Yet no matter how calm and gentle he seemed on the surface, Ruan Cha could still sense the faintest trace of unease behind his every move.

It was as if… Fu Chen was terrified that she might suddenly vanish from his life.

Ruan Cha gently smoothed out the slight crease between his brows and whispered softly, “Fu Chen…”

[Classmate Ruan Cha, I’ve thought of something.] The sticky rice ball system rolled anxiously across the tray table. [In the other timeline, Classmate Ruan Cha had her accident in the second year after returning to the Liang family. Based on the current timeline, you’ve also been with them for two years.]

Indeed, with Ruan Cha’s academic acceleration, she had only spent one year in high school and one year in college so far—two years in total.

[In theory, two versions of the same person in parallel timelines can have weak emotional resonance.]

[If there’s a Dreamweave Card, like you used before, it can send intentional visions between timelines. If not, then at a specific moment, someone may have a subconscious premonition.]

According to the system’s big data calculations, some people in future timelines even developed precognitive abilities due to past experiences across parallel timelines.

Because the time flows weren’t synchronized, some individuals could somehow perceive echoes from what had happened to them in another timeline.

When he met his wife again in the afterlife, he would have something to tell her.

As these thoughts circled in Elder Liang’s mind, he unconsciously tightened his grip on Ruan Cha’s hand.

In their social circle, there were no secrets. Even though the matter with Yu Zheng had been tightly covered up, some people had still caught wind of it. A few even complained that their families had been “dragged down” by Ruan Cha, blaming her for Yu Zheng’s targeting of her.

But Elder Liang didn’t see it that way. No one should be forced to reflect on themselves after being harmed. Ruan Cha had been innocent from beginning to end. Yu Zheng’s actions were simply him finding excuses for his selfish fear of death.

And even if they had never encountered Yu Zheng, they might have still run into a Chen Zheng or a Wang Zheng in the future.

Besides, it hadn’t only been Yu Zheng. There had also been the Song family hiding in the background. Since Song Yun had once used Yu Zheng to manipulate the second son against their family, what was to stop him from using someone else next time?

For the family to be safe and happy together now was already something to be grateful for.

After taking the family photo, they had only just gotten halfway through their reunion dinner when the housekeeper brought out three steaming plates of dumplings.

“In these three plates of dumplings, ten of them have peanuts inside. Everyone, try your luck!”

It was said that biting into a dumpling with a coin on New Year’s would bring you good fortune all year long. In some regions, the tradition was to eat them on the morning of the first day of the new year, but in more traditional South City families, it was customary to eat them on New Year’s Eve.

The Liang family typically made dumplings but never used coins. This year, it had been Ruan Cha who suggested it in the afternoon.

Elder Liang had thought it over and decided that coins might be unsanitary, and there was no time left to exchange new ones at the bank. Instead, he asked the housekeeper to prepare ten dumplings with peanuts inside to symbolize perfection and completeness.

[Classmate Ruan Cha, I’ve detected which dumplings have peanuts. The ones on the left plate—]

“Shh.” Ruan Cha quickly cut the system off when she saw the family already starting to pick from the plates. She grabbed her chopsticks too. “Peanuts symbolize fortune. The ones you detect belong to you. I must find one myself.”

As she spoke, she had already picked up a dumpling. The moment she took a bite, her eyes lit up.

Savoring it carefully, a smile spread across her face. She held up the half-eaten dumpling proudly for everyone to see.

“Grandpa, Mom, Dad—the first lucky one in the family is here!”

Elder Liang laughed so hard his eyes turned into slits. “Looks like Cha Cha is going to have good luck all year long.”

Seeing this, Ruan Zhengfei eagerly rubbed his hands together. “Jiao Jiao, we can’t fall behind. Let’s go! We’ll eat vegetables later. First, let’s hunt down the peanuts.”

“We can’t let Cha Cha carry all the family’s fortune on her own.”

The rest of the family exchanged glances and joined the frenzy. The normally refined family, who were sticklers for etiquette at meals, uncharacteristically began scrambling to grab dumplings from the plates.

After finding her second peanut-filled dumpling, Ruan Cha stopped competing and instead took out her phone to record a short video to send to Liang Cunjin.

“We’re eating dumplings. Second Brother, remember to have some tonight too! I’ll quietly tell you—I found two with peanuts just now. Out of kindness, I’ll generously share one with you since you’re working hard out there to provide for the family!”

She sent the message and didn’t worry about a reply right away. After all, they could see him on TV. Liang Cunjin had just finished his performance and was sitting down to watch the Spring Festival Gala. There was no way he’d dare play with his phone on live broadcast in front of the cameras.

The system saw the WeChat message Ruan Cha had just sent and asked curiously, [Classmate Ruan Cha, why didn’t you give one of your two peanut dumplings to Classmate Fu Chen?]

At the long table, the three plates of dumplings had already been completely eaten by the seven remaining people. Out of the ten peanut dumplings, Ruan Cha had eaten two, Elder Liang and Wei Jiao each had two, Tang Hua and Liang Zongqi had one each.

Strictly speaking, Yan Ruocan had also found two, but when she spotted the peanut in the second dumpling, she immediately gave it to Liang Cunjin, who still hadn’t gotten one.

The system had assumed Ruan Cha would do the same and share one with Fu Chen. It didn’t expect her to give one to Liang Cunjin instead.

“Fu Chen, huh…” Ruan Cha took a bowl of sweet pear soup from the housekeeper, drank a few spoonfuls of the sweet liquid, and answered in her mind, “Fu Chen and I share our luck. Passing things back and forth would just make us seem distant. I think Fu Chen would prefer to share one peanut dumpling together rather than splitting them.”

[…]

The system, which had almost turned into a permanent lemon tree, sighed in frustration.

Without Liang Cunjin, the family chatted for another hour or two in the living room, then called it a night. They didn’t even bother to finish the Spring Festival Gala. One by one they headed upstairs—none of them young enough to stay up all night anymore.

Back in her room, after washing up, Ruan Cha lay on her bed and started a video call with Fu Chen.

“Yeah, two peanuts, I gave one to Second Brother. Poor guy has to work away from home during New Year’s,” Ruan Cha explained as she also got a reply from Liang Cunjin. His message was full of teasing praise, saying she was so thoughtful and promised to bring her a big New Year’s gift when he came back.

On the video, Fu Chen had just come out of the shower. His black hair was damp and clung to his collar. He didn’t want to use a hair dryer and interrupt their call, so he casually rubbed at his hair with a towel as they talked.

Though the lingering unease in his heart had finally faded, Fu Chen still felt he could never get enough of looking at Ruan Cha. Whether day or night, seeing her never got old.

Thinking back on those peaceful three days they spent together in the town, Fu Chen felt incredibly lucky.

Hearing about the peanut dumpling, he smiled and mock-sighed, “But we didn’t prepare any peanut dumplings here. Last year I had your lucky red envelope. This year…”

“My peanut dumplings are half yours!” Ruan Cha cut in before he could finish, smiling brightly as she lay on the bed. “We’re engaged now. We can’t be so formal. We share our good fortune.”

Just as she finished speaking, the video frame suddenly shifted. As she caught sight of the view outside Fu Chen’s window, she remembered something. Before leaving the town on the 29th, Fu Chen had mentioned he and Father Fu wouldn’t be spending New Year’s Eve at the old family house.

Outside, the night sky was dark and nearly starless. But in the next second, a vibrant firework exploded, filling the screen with dazzling colors.

Then came the second burst. The third.

Ruan Cha stared at the fireworks, thinking Fu Chen had simply wanted to let her watch the show. But as the fireworks gathered into shapes, two bright red hearts appeared side by side in the sky.

“Cha Cha.”

Fu Chen’s voice came through the video call—clear and gentle, each word cutting through even the occasional loud booms of fireworks.

“For last year’s New Year’s Eve and this year’s firework display, I’ve had something I wanted to tell you.” He paused, adjusted the camera so he was fully in view.

Ruan Cha, clutching her phone tightly, had a vague guess of what he was about to say.

On screen, Fu Chen’s dark, luminous eyes softened with warmth. His voice came gently across the distance, falling directly into her ears as fireworks continued to light up the night sky behind him.

And under the brilliance of the fireworks, Ruan Cha clearly heard Fu Chen speak three heartfelt words:

“I love you.”

Ch 110 (Extra 10): After My Mother Returned to the Rich Family

[Softening Up CP (6)]

The sky was bright blue, and the clouds were pure white.

A passenger plane took off from the Jing City airport and ascended into the sky.

Nan City and Jing City lay at opposite ends of the country, with the flight taking around two hours and fifty minutes. First class was already full, and Ruan Cha and Fu Chen were seated in the front row.

Having stayed up late for the past few days preparing the launch of the Planet Manager’s Handbook VR game, the two of them had both fallen asleep soon after takeoff.

“Ruan Cha, I’ve detected that Fu Chen is asleep, but it’s a light sleep. A little noise will probably wake him,” the soft, sticky electronic voice of 1128 sounded by her ear.

The next moment, Ruan Cha’s closed eyes snapped open. Her dark almond-shaped eyes showed not a trace of sleepiness.

She turned her head very slightly to look at Fu Chen. A light blanket covered him, his long lashes casting soft shadows beneath his eyes. The usual upward tilt at the corners of his eyes had relaxed slightly. His face had matured and become sharper since high school, but now it carried a trace of weariness.

With Spring Festival just a week away, the two had finished all the pre-launch work for Planet Manager’s Handbook at Three Whale Games and were now on a flight back to Nan City.

“You’re not going to sleep, Ruan Cha?” the system asked again.

The moment they boarded, Ruan Cha had instructed 1128 to immediately report once Fu Chen fell asleep. The system wasn’t sure why she wanted this.

Wait a minute——!!

The glutinous rice ball form of the 1128 system, sitting quietly on Ruan Cha’s knee, suddenly jumped up in a panic and practically lost its shape.

“Ruan Cha, you’re not planning to… do anything to Fu Chen while he’s asleep, are you?!”

Ruan Cha: “…”

1128, fess up. Just what kind of shady online novels have you been sneaking around reading? Come to think of it, you staying powered on in the middle of the night to read The Plum in the Golden Vase was already pretty suspicious!

Ruan Cha shook her head, too lazy to argue over what “do anything” meant. “1128, you’ve always been sensitive to human emotions. Haven’t you noticed that Fu Chen’s emotional state has been off recently?”

“Off? Fu Chen hasn’t been abnormal at all, other than sticking to you a bit more than usual.”

Originally, the system had no interest in anyone but Ruan Cha. But after fully integrating with the antivirus program, it no longer regarded Fu Chen as an outsider. After all, if Fu Chen hadn’t helped in the previous timeline, 1128 would’ve been destroyed, and there would have been no way to reverse the outcome, defeat Ren Qingqing and Yu Zheng, and atone for its own mistakes.

Now that 1128 also valued Fu Chen, it had naturally monitored his mental and physical health closely. It was certain that Fu Chen was perfectly healthy in both regards.

But Ruan Cha stared at Fu Chen, her expression dark and unreadable. “He’s been too clingy. I think… he’s uneasy.”

When her roommates had teased her about Fu Chen being clingy in the cafeteria, she had just laughed it off. After all, they spent plenty of time together and were openly affectionate.

But over time, she had gradually noticed that Fu Chen had indeed become noticeably more attached compared to when they had first started dating.

It wasn’t the suffocating kind of clinginess that demanded constant updates or made her feel pressured. On the contrary, Ruan Cha had always felt completely free and comfortable around Fu Chen; he never objected to anything she wanted to do.

Yet despite how calm and gentle he always seemed, Ruan Cha had caught a faint trace of unease in his subtle actions.

It was as if Fu Chen was afraid… that she might suddenly disappear one day.

She reached out and gently smoothed the frown between his brows, her voice soft. “Fu Chen…”

“Ruan Cha, I just thought of something,” 1128 suddenly interrupted, rolling back and forth nervously on the plane’s tray table. “In the other timeline, Ruan Cha had an accident in the second year of returning to the Liang family. From the timeline now, you’ve also been at the Liang family for two years.”

In this timeline, she had skipped a year of high school and spent one year in university—exactly two years total.

“Theoretically, two versions of the same person in different timelines can have slight emotional resonance.”

“If a Dreamweave Card is present, like for you, you can see things that the Ruan Cha of the other timeline wanted you to see. But if there isn’t one, at certain critical time points, a person may instinctively experience a kind of premonition.”

According to 1128’s data analysis, in the future human species of other timelines, a small percentage had predictive abilities—because the versions of themselves in alternate timelines had already experienced something once.

When timelines didn’t perfectly align, people could occasionally sense events from another version of their life.

In the internal database of the 1128 system, there were some memories left behind by the antivirus program from the previous life. Back then, after Ruan Cha’s accident, Fu Chen had been emotionally devastated for quite some time.

After hearing the system’s speculation and seeing Fu Chen frowning slightly even in his sleep, Ruan Cha couldn’t be sure if the system’s guess was right.

“1128, I remember the Dreamweave Cards in the store can also create custom dreamscapes, right?”

“Yes. The high-grade cards used on you before can travel across timelines and are permanent, but they cannot create unique dreams on their own.”

“If you want to use it for Fu Chen, a mid-grade card would do. It costs only a third of the price, can create dreams, but can’t travel across timelines and lasts for only one hour.”

Since starting college, Ruan Cha had saved up a huge amount of knowledge energy points. Plus, the system store had been running a 0.1x sale from January to March. Even high-grade cards could be bought in bulk without blinking, let alone mid-grade ones.

The moment she purchased it, a deep blue card appeared in her hand, about the size of a playing card, edged with intricate patterns resembling the magical cards from the anime she’d watched as a child.

“What kind of dream do you want to create for Fu Chen?” the system asked.

Ruan Cha lowered her gaze and toyed with the card between her fingers. “If Fu Chen is truly worried that something might happen to me, that I might suddenly vanish one day, then naturally, I want to create a dream where I’m always by his side.”

In truth, Ruan Cha was testing the theory.

If the system’s speculation was right, the card would work. If not, it would have no effect, and she would simply have to ask Fu Chen directly.

Three minutes later, the card in Ruan Cha’s hand dissolved into fine points of light that wrapped gently around Fu Chen. Whether it was just her imagination, Ruan Cha couldn’t say, but the moment the light faded, Fu Chen’s frown seemed to soften.

Ruan Cha had been right.

Ever since they had returned to school after getting engaged, Fu Chen had been quietly uneasy and fearful.

Yet even he couldn’t name what exactly he was afraid of. He feared that she would suddenly disappear right before his eyes, that when the time came for them to meet, she wouldn’t show up.

But what danger could Cha Cha possibly encounter?

Fu Chen had asked himself this repeatedly. The biggest threat to her, Yu Zheng, was dead. The two people once connected to Yu Zheng, Yu Zhiyan and Jiang Yuxing, had proven their integrity and were no longer even in the country.

In Nan City, at school, Ruan Cha hadn’t received any suspicious packages nor had she been followed.

So what was he so afraid of?

Since he couldn’t explain it, there was only one answer: possessiveness.

Fu Chen feared that his unexplainable, overwhelming need to always see Ruan Cha would scare her, so he buried that feeling deep inside himself.

But even though he could suppress it emotionally, he couldn’t control it in his actions. He wanted to see her every day, to confirm with his own eyes that she was safe.

For the first time in nearly twenty years of life, Fu Chen felt something spiraling out of control—and he felt powerless and cowardly for not being able to stop it.

Fu Chen remembered boarding the plane, with Ruan Cha seated right next to him. There was no danger, everything was safe. As he gazed at her peacefully sleeping profile, he had unconsciously fallen asleep too.

Suddenly, the world was engulfed in darkness.

The next moment, Fu Chen found himself standing in front of the Liang family’s villa gates. The maids and gardeners inside were rushing around with grim expressions.

They were murmuring that Old Master Liang’s health had taken a turn for the worse, that the recently acknowledged third young lady’s family had suffered too much, and that the young lady had taken her own life to leave this world.

Young lady?

Were they… talking about Cha Cha?

As the thought surfaced, Fu Chen felt as if a boulder had been slammed onto his chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. His head spun and the world blurred around him.

He clutched his chest tightly, his fingers digging into his clothes as a sharp, unbearable pain radiated through his heart. In that instant, Fu Chen had the terrifying sense that this was not the first time he had witnessed this scene.

Fu Chen had no idea he was dreaming. Even the impossible logic of this dream felt completely real to him. In his mind, the thing he had feared most all along—

was happening right in front of him.

He seemed to hear muffled sobs coming from inside the villa. Staggering and panicked, he pushed open the gate and rushed toward the house in a frenzy.

“Cha Cha, Cha Cha.”

“Fu Chen, where are you going?”

Just as he was running to the villa, someone suddenly grabbed his arm. Turning around in shock, Fu Chen was stunned to see Ruan Cha standing there, perfectly fine, contrary to what the housekeeper had said about her having taken her own life.

And she was—

wearing a wedding dress.

Ruan Cha waved the bouquet in her hand and helplessly pointed to the wedding hall behind her. “Fu Chen, didn’t we just finish our wedding and get ready to go on our honeymoon? Are you trying to run away from our marriage?”

Fu Chen stared in disbelief at her face, then glanced back. The somber villa and the crying had completely vanished, replaced by the bright wedding hall and green grass. It had all been a trick of his mind.

All he could hear now were the blessings and joyful laughter of the guests.

Before Fu Chen could step forward to embrace Ruan Cha, the scene shifted again. Now he found himself at home, playing chess with a lively little child in the garden.

Fu Chen looked at the child, then up toward Ruan Cha, who was relaxing on a rocking chair. She had white hair now and gentle wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.

But for the first time in so long, Fu Chen felt his turbulent heart, adrift like a tiny boat on stormy seas, suddenly calm and steady.

Ruan Cha had been watching Fu Chen closely, waiting to see if the card had worked. But before she could observe any changes, she noticed Fu Chen’s hand, resting on the chair arm, gently clench as he murmured unconsciously, “Cha Cha.”

Within seconds, sweat beaded on Fu Chen’s forehead, his brows tightly furrowed, and he kept softly whispering Cha Cha’s name over and over.

After two years of dating, this was the first time Ruan Cha had so clearly seen fear on Fu Chen’s face.

In that moment, she understood exactly what he was so afraid of. Her eyes stung faintly as she reached out and firmly clasped his hand. “I’m here.”

Soon after, Fu Chen’s expression gradually relaxed. The tense lines on his forehead disappeared, and his entire demeanor seemed calm and at ease once more.

“Cha Cha.”

Ruan Cha looked at Fu Chen as he gripped her hand tightly, and she couldn’t help but smile. A moment later, she leaned down and gently kissed the knuckles of his fingers, replying softly, “I’m here, now and always. I will always be here.”

Ch 109 (Extra 9): After My Mother Returned to the Rich Family

[Softening Up CP (5)]

11 a.m.

Third floor of the southeastern dining hall at Jing University.

Since it wasn’t the lunch rush yet, there weren’t too many students around, and plenty of tables and chairs were still free. Right now, nearly every table was buzzing about the same thing.

“Ah, it’s been a week—I can finally enjoy a peaceful lunch.”

“The freshmen this year are insane. We can’t compete, really can’t.”

“Slow down, they’re still in training till noon anyway.”

“Thinking about it, the upperclassmen probably felt the same way when we just started college.”

Hearing her roommates’ discussion, Ruan Cha nodded in agreement. But the next moment, a vague sense of melancholy swept over her for no clear reason.

After a pause, she shook her head and sighed inwardly: Time really flies.

In the blink of an eye, she was already a sophomore. She’d spent a full year at Jing University, going from “junior student” to “junior-senior combo.”

Xu Nan, Huang Jiajia, Ji Feiyang, Xie Chang’an, and Xie Sui had all gotten into their dream universities. Two were in Jing City, while the other three were in different provinces. The once inseparable group of seven from high school… now rarely saw each other.

Last week, Ruan Cha and Fu Chen had managed to call Xu Nan and Ji Feiyang out for a mini reunion. As for the remaining three, it was a virtual dinner through video chat.

There were eleven dining halls on the Jing University campus, and during peak hours, each one overflowed with students. Especially during freshman military training—come lunchtime, there was a winding line of “Green Bean Frogs” waiting to be fed.

All four of Ruan Cha’s roommates had their fourth-period class together, so they often came to the cafeteria as a group after class.

They weren’t afraid of long lines—but if they finally got through only to find the good dishes gone, it was downright depressing. Waiting for freshly cooked meals also meant giving up their precious midday naps. So the four of them had agreed to order takeout instead, timing it to arrive back at the dorm right after class.

But it was Saturday today. Freshmen still had training, but the upperclassmen didn’t. So the girls ditched takeout and came straight to the cafeteria to enjoy a proper meal.

Mid-conversation, one roommate suddenly noticed Ruan Cha’s tray and gasped. “Cha Cha, you only got one dish—your stomach okay?”

“My stomach’s fine. But Fu Chen and I are going out to see a movie later, and we’ll probably get snacks there,” Ruan Cha said casually. She didn’t have anything else to do in the dorm, so she came to the cafeteria with her roommates. When she spotted okra, she had the auntie scoop her a portion to fill her belly.

Hearing that, the roommate’s concern instantly turned to gossip. She leaned in and whispered, “Cha Cha, we’re coming with you to meet Fu Chen. Your man’s way too good-looking—he’s definitely the type freshmen girls will crush on.”

Jing University had a tradition during military training: besides the instructors, each class would be assigned a sophomore teaching assistant.

Those chosen were all top-tier students who had received “Outstanding Cadet” recognition during their own freshman training.

That Fu Chen had been selected didn’t surprise Ruan Cha at all. His personality was always all-or-nothing—once he committed to something, he did his absolute best.

The other two roommates chimed in, nodding vigorously. “Exactly! We’ve got to let the official girlfriend make an appearance to shut down any wandering thoughts.”

“I mean, it should be fine, right?” Ruan Cha said, lifting her left hand and wiggling the platinum ring on her finger. “Fu Chen’s wearing his engagement ring too.”

This past year, the Liang family had seen a double blessing.

During winter break, Liang Cunhuai married Yan Ruocan. Then over summer, with both families present, Ruan Cha and Fu Chen got engaged.

Fu Chen had worried Ruan Cha might find wearing a ring in college inconvenient or too flashy. After discussing it with her, they’d had a designer create a simple, elegant design.

Ruan Cha wore it like an accessory. Fu Chen, on the other hand, had no qualms—once he put it on, he never took it off.

Her roommate gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Oh please, people cheat even when they’re married. What’s an engagement? And some guys wear rings just for style. If someone hasn’t seen you two together on campus, they’d never guess you’re already engaged.”

Another roommate added, “Honestly, if it weren’t for Fu Chen’s sheer talent, I’d really suspect your man is just—”

Mid-sentence, all three of them spoke in unison:

“Totally whipped.”

Ruan Cha: “……”

She felt it was absolutely necessary to defend her boyfriend’s reputation. “That’s not true at all. People who are whipped put love above everything and pour all their energy into the relationship. But my Fu Chen? He’s got the highest GPA in his department. He’s on the student council. His full-dive VR game already launched. Physically—”

“He’s also MVP in the basketball tournament,” one roommate interjected, helping her out. Then she added, “But you’re no slouch either. You’ve got the top GPA in our department. You didn’t join the student council, but you crushed the debate team. And your mobile game? We’re all still playing it.”

“But you’re the classic ‘I can study, so I must study’ type. Always focused. You don’t exactly act clingy.”

If anything, Fu Chen’s presence was more noticeable than their own boyfriends’. He was either waiting for Ruan Cha or accompanying her. No exceptions.

Ruan Cha coughed twice and averted her gaze. “You didn’t see me being clingy, that’s all. Last weekend, we—”

Roommates: “……Cough cough cough!!”

Wasting food is a crime. No dog food allowed! We’re already full—what about the food on our trays?!

Ruan Cha stopped and tried to pivot. “Okay, forget how clingy I am. Let’s talk about Fu Chen. He’s just really smart, so he works efficiently and has more free time. Him showing up to classes is just part of his drive to keep learning.”

Roommates: “……”

You, who can memorize an entire textbook at a glance, dare to call someone else smart?

Jing University was full of brilliant students—not just one or two—but not that many. Still, to her roommates, no one left a deeper impression than Ruan Cha.

She nailed every class, balanced work and studies, and got top marks in everything.

Under her influence, all four roommates had been hitting the books hard. At the end of last semester, all four of them ranked in the top six in their year, earning their dorm the unofficial title of “Academic Powerhouse Room.”

Truthfully, the whole “whipped boyfriend” thing was just playful teasing. They’d never say that to outsiders.

Because when they first met Fu Chen, they’d all thought he was cold and aloof. And even now, he wasn’t exactly warm toward them—more like polite and distant, which was very Fu Chen.

As for how Fu Chen treated Ruan Cha, outsiders might not have noticed much. But the three roommates, who saw them every day and had a basis for comparison, felt the difference quite clearly.

Their feelings were a mix of bittersweet and satisfied.

Bitter, because now they all had higher expectations for their own boyfriends. Satisfied, because Ruan Cha, sweet and innocent (1128: …Excuse me?), had someone as reliable as Fu Chen beside her—so they didn’t have to worry about her getting fooled by anyone.

Ten minutes later, the four of them left the dining hall and headed straight for the athletic field.

The midday sun was blazing. Two by two, they walked under umbrellas, each carrying a bag of freshly ordered fruit tea.

Military training at Jing University wasn’t excessively strict. Each freshman class had a class advisor who could provide drinks, watermelon, and other supplies for the students and instructors.

Ruan Cha didn’t want to be out in the sun too long, so she hadn’t volunteered as a teaching assistant. Instead, she became a class advisor. Just that Wednesday morning, she’d brought dozens of breakfast sets for her class.

On the field, some groups were practicing their marching, while others were resting on the ground. Since most of the students had already gone through military training in high school, they didn’t find it too grueling.

For the freshmen, training felt like a good chance to make new friends—and once those connections were made, many of their eyes started to drift toward the instructors… and the assistants.

Fu Chen was in charge of Class 3 from their department. He only had two responsibilities: first, to serve as a role model and show that anything the instructors could do, students could too; second, to assist the instructor in guiding the students.

Handsome and clean-cut, tall and lean, dressed in a crisp set of camouflage—he was the literal definition of too hot to handle.

Just standing there, Fu Chen fulfilled every visual fantasy for face and uniform lovers alike.

Not just in Class 3—girls from the two neighboring classes were also sneaking glances at him.

But over the course of the week, Fu Chen had barely spoken a word to any of the freshmen. Other than the occasional “at ease” or “attention,” you’d barely hear his voice.

Even during breaks, like now, Fu Chen was only talking to the instructor—unlike some other assistants, who used the downtime to joke around with students.

Class 3’s instructor was a third-year national defense student who participated in all sorts of competitions—math modeling, esports, innovation tech. Fu Chen had impressive knowledge in electronics, and the two hit it off immediately after just a few words.

Some students had initially thought, It’s just esports, right? We all play games in high school. They’d even tried to use that as an excuse to join in.

But the moment they got closer and heard the technical jargon flying between Fu Chen and the instructor, they froze—totally lost. There was no way to chime in.

While the instructor was about to bring up the newly recommended game Planet Manager’s Handbook, he spotted two girls walking over from the team—one of whom had clearly been eyeing Fu Chen since training started.

She’d assumed she was one of the prettiest girls in the class and that Fu Chen would definitely talk to her. But not only had he never approached her, he vanished at the end of every session faster than the students who rushed off to the dining hall!

“Senior, will you have time during the lunch break? We’d love to treat you to a meal and ask some questions about the major.”

“Yeah, and Senior—we’re from Nan City too. We’re from the same hometown!”

The words “Nan City” finally got Fu Chen’s attention. He looked up but didn’t recognize either of them. If he passed them on the street, he wouldn’t even recall they were in his class.

Seeing that he’d looked up, the girls thought they had a shot. But before they could continue, a clear voice cut in.

“Hey hey, senior sister’s here to bring tea for our juniors!” Ruan Cha’s roommate had spotted the girls approaching Fu Chen from meters away and had dragged her along, shouting cheerfully. She elbowed Ruan Cha and muttered urgently, “Go on, claim your man—before someone else tries to!”

But before Ruan Cha could even step up, Fu Chen had already jogged over to her.

Clearly, she didn’t need to mark her territory—Fu Chen had beat her to it.

He took the bags of tea from their hands, called over a few boys from Class 3 to help distribute them, and spoke softly to Ruan Cha, “Only thirty minutes left. The sun’s harsh—why don’t you sit somewhere shady for a bit?”

“You think I’d stand around getting scorched? Of course I brought an umbrella.” Ruan Cha waved at Class 3’s students as she spoke.

Before she could finish the wave, Fu Chen had already placed a hand on her shoulder and was gently guiding her toward the shade.

“Umbrella’s not enough. It’s still hot underneath.”

The moment he reached out, everyone watching suddenly understood everything—and a wave of friendly teasing rippled through the group.

To be fair, there was nothing especially clingy or showy in how Fu Chen and Ruan Cha interacted. They weren’t the PDA type.

But Fu Chen was known for being distant and reserved with everyone. Now, he was the one who ran over, grabbed bags, and touched her shoulder?

Yeah. That said everything.

The three roommates looked at Fu Chen and Ruan Cha, then at the two girls who had tried to approach him and now looked lost for words.

Sometimes, a real one doesn’t need his girlfriend to fight his battles—he takes care of it himself.

Fu Chen didn’t linger long with Ruan Cha, since break time was ending. But when he returned, the two girls still hadn’t gone back to their place.

One of them, after realizing Fu Chen and Ruan Cha were definitely together, gave up immediately.

The other one, though—she really liked him. So she decided to try one more time. They might be a couple, but as long as they’re not married, I can pretend I don’t know.

“Senior, that girl from earlier—are you two close?”

Though Ruan Cha had gained a little fame from Dear Life, the show had aired two years ago. If someone hadn’t kept up with it, they probably wouldn’t recognize her. Plus, she didn’t dress like a typical student anymore. No one in Class 3 had connected her to the once wildly popular meme star from that series.

Fu Chen’s gaze lingered on Ruan Cha, who was laughing with her roommates. The smile in her eyes made his own expression unconsciously soften.

Then, he turned back to the girl and responded with a question instead of an answer. “You said you’re from Nan City?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Fu Chen glanced toward the group of freshmen still sipping their fruit tea and pointed. “Do you think that senior sister is pretty?”

Everyone had already guessed the relationship between them, so they all shouted, “She’s gorgeous!”

“She’s my fiancée,” Fu Chen said with a smile that practically dripped with pride—and if you listened closely, you could even hear a bit of smugness.

That one word—fiancée—instantly silenced the group. Because let’s be real, a fiancée and a girlfriend are very different.

Before anyone could respond, Fu Chen added with a light laugh, “She went to high school in Nan City too. We’ve been together since then. We’re planning to get married right after graduation.”

We started dating after high school but before college—technically still counts as high school, right?

Everyone: “……”

Suddenly, the fruit tea in their hands… tasted distinctly of lemons.

Ch 108 (Extra 8): After My Mother Returned to the Rich Family

[Softening Up CP (4)]

At 9:40 p.m., the evening lecture finally ended. Ruan Cha stretched lazily and hooked her arm through Fu Chen’s as they exited the classroom—only to run into two of her suitemates who had just finished their own class next door.

“Whoa, Fu Chen came to keep Cha Cha company in class?” one of them teased, then clutched her stomach dramatically and glanced at the other. “Bao’er, didn’t I just say I was kind of hungry? Now I’m suddenly full. Burp.”

The other roommate looked at Ruan Cha and burst into laughter, quickly chiming in, “Must’ve been fed a full serving of dog food.”

Ruan Cha let go of Fu Chen’s arm and gave each of them a light smack on the arm. “Cut it out, both of you. Who was the one showing off last night after buying congee with her boyfriend, huh? You can’t act like you’re full now.”

While Ruan Cha chatted with her suitemates, Fu Chen stood quietly behind her, holding her books, his gaze never straying from her face.

“We’re going to Starlight Park for New Year’s. You two want me to bring back anything—” Before Ruan Cha could even finish her sentence, both girls shot their hands into the air, as if afraid she’d change her mind halfway through.

“Xu’s mochi and almond biscuits, thank you!”

“Jasmine flower cake from the shop diagonally across from Drum Tower, thank you, sweet and lovely Cha Cha!”

Normally, those shops would close around 9 p.m., but with the huge crowds coming to Starlight Park for the New Year countdown, the owners had decided to stay open until 1 a.m.

The snacks they mentioned were from some of the city’s oldest and most beloved stores, known for their long lines and singular locations—each only had one branch in the entire country, and that was in Starlight Park.

Starlight Park sat just a district away from Jing University, named for its stunning light bridge that sparkled like a galaxy. On New Year’s Eve, there would be not just a countdown, but also a grand light show and drone performance.

Logically, the place should have been packed with people hours ahead of time, as most would arrive early to secure a good view. But—

The Liang family owned the West Horizon Hotel in the park, and its presidential suite—arguably the best vantage point—had been reserved for Ruan Cha in advance. Meanwhile, the Fu family owned a department store in the same area, and the rooftop of its chic lounge bar was also reserved for the two of them.

When Ruan Cha’s suitemates learned she wouldn’t need to jostle through the crowd for a good spot, they weren’t surprised—but it still hit a little differently.

At school, Ruan Cha went everywhere with them—same meals, same routines—and dressed for comfort rather than brand names. With one of their roommates being a verified rich second-gen, the comparison made Ruan Cha seem like she came from an ordinary, middle-class family.

—Seemed.

Seemed, their butts!

After the three roommates, not usually ones to follow variety shows, stumbled across an online post and binge-watched Ruan Cha’s episodes on Dear Life, they could only shake their heads.

Some people really could hide their shine.

Looking so low-key and grounded, but their family was basically overflowing with wealth!

If they hadn’t seen it for themselves, they never would’ve believed the sweet, down-to-earth Ruan Cha had been raised by doting parents and had the powerful Liang family as her maternal background.

When the four of them went shopping, Ruan Cha would always rush toward sales, clip coupons when shopping online, and compare shipping deals before buying anything.

Girl, your spending habits are way too un-rich!

“I’ve noted it down,” Ruan Cha grinned, flashing an “OK” sign. “But if the line’s too long, I’m bailing. Snacking before bed just puts on weight anyway—think of it as me helping you two diet.”

“Fair, fair,” one of them said quickly. “If you actually manage to get them, we’ll just pay you back through WeChat.”

To them, yes, Ruan Cha was rich. But that didn’t mean she had to foot every bill. Treating people out to meals was one thing—asking her to run errands was another.

Then one of the girls leaned in and whispered, “Cha Cha… so did you two end up picking the hotel or the lounge bar?”

“The hotel,” Ruan Cha answered calmly. “We already had a fruit platter set up on the balcony—it’s right across from the big clock tower. Makes the countdown more ceremonial. Plus, it’s a perfect angle for watching the drone show.” She patted her roommate’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, if I can get your snacks, I’ll definitely bring them back.”

Roommate: “……”

We’re not worried about the snacks, Cha Cha. We’re worried you’re spending the night in a hotel!

“Cha Cha, I know you’re eighteen now, but you’re still so young—we really shouldn’t rush into things—” Her roommate trailed off mid-sentence as she met Ruan Cha’s pure, wide-eyed gaze. Her voice just… died.

It suddenly felt like if she kept going, she’d be the one leading Ruan Cha astray.

Among the four of them, Ruan Cha was the youngest. The other three always looked out for her. Fu Chen definitely seemed reliable—he wasn’t flirty at school, and he didn’t even glance at other girls.

Still, the thought of the two of them—just the two of them—alone in a suite… let’s just say it conjured a few not-so-wholesome images.

The roommates weren’t prudish. They didn’t bat an eye at other couples booking hotels near campus.

But when it was Ruan Cha… something just felt off.

—Like Fu Chen was seducing a high schooler.

Ruan Cha waited for her roommate to finish, but nothing came. She glanced at her watch—it was getting late—so she waved cheerfully. “We’re heading to Starlight Park now! You two better head back to the dorm after the countdown. It’s freezing tonight.”

The girls didn’t say anything else, but while Ruan Cha remained oblivious, Fu Chen had guessed a bit of what they were thinking. He couldn’t help smiling—both at their overprotectiveness, and at how lucky Cha Cha was to have such genuine friends in college.

Right before they left, Fu Chen turned to Ruan Cha’s two roommates and said meaningfully, “After the countdown and the show, Cha Cha and I will be heading back. Would you mind leaving a light on for us?”

The roommates immediately understood what he meant and smiled, waving their hands. “No trouble at all—we’ll be waiting for Cha Cha to bring back the late-night snacks.”

After Ruan Cha and Fu Chen disappeared from view, the roommates looked at each other and exchanged a helpless grin.

“Stuffed with dog food.”

“I’m already in a relationship, but man, that was a full meal.”

There were plenty of students exiting campus. All they needed to do was scan their student cards. As they stepped outside, Fu Chen turned his head toward Ruan Cha. “Cha Cha, are your hands cold?”

Ruan Cha had been scanning the area to see where their car was parked, and was just about to say “not really” when something suddenly occurred to her.

Without missing a beat, she slipped one of her hands into Fu Chen’s down jacket pocket with a perfectly straight face. “Cold. Super cold. The kind of cold that desperately needs someone else to warm it.”

【……】

【Ruan Cha, I just finished adjusting your body temperature. What a waste.】

Beijing’s winter was far colder than Nanshi’s, with temperatures dropping close to minus ten. The system had been kind enough to auto-adjust her internal temperature when it saw her bundle up.

It didn’t expect…

That Ruan Cha would just blatantly ignore it.

But Ruan Cha hadn’t forgotten. She quickly replied in her mind, “1128, turn it off—fast! If Fu Chen touches my hand and it’s not cold, he’ll totally see through my excuse!”

【……qaq】

No wonder other systems didn’t like it when their hosts got into relationships. Watching their host act all lovey-dovey with someone else was depressing—even for a heartless AI.

The system shut off the adjustment in time, but it wasn’t instant. When Fu Chen took her hand inside his pocket, he could still feel the faint warmth.

Not knowing a system was behind it all, he just assumed it was due to her natural body temperature. His expression didn’t change as he nodded. “Yeah, a little cold.”

【……】

Ruan Cha was briefly stunned by how smoothly he played along. Then she grinned and gently tightened her hold on his hand.

Only Fu Chen could match her performance so flawlessly—back in high school, and now in college too.

Once they got in the car, Fu Chen didn’t ask her to take her hand back. “Should we call your parents?”

“I already video-called them at lunch. What about you? Did you talk to Father Fu?”

Ruan Zhengfei and Wei Jiao had returned to their hometown in mid-December after spending three months in Beijing. Now that they were confident Ruan Cha was doing well at school, they could return without worry. Plus, it was time to harvest the cabbages, and Wei Jiao needed to start the next round of breeding.

When Ruan Cha called them at lunch, her dad even grumbled half-jokingly over video chat—saying if they were still in town, there’s no way they’d let her go out with Fu Chen this late.

So in a way, the outing had already been “reported” to both sets of parents.

Fu Chen, thinking about those three months watching Ruan Cha with her parents, lowered his gaze slightly. Compared to that, his relationship with his own dad… felt distant.

(Father Fu: Hmm.)

“I sent a text,” he replied. “Said—”

“Text isn’t enough.”

Before he could finish, Ruan Cha pulled out her phone and looked at him with bright, serious eyes. “If we’re out, our families are bound to worry. They need to see us, not just read a message. Plus, if someone’s sick, you can’t always hear it in their voice. So—we need to make video calls a habit.”

Fu Chen: “……”

Both he and Father Fu were reserved by nature. He remembered that when his dad had gone abroad for two weeks during his childhood, they didn’t even make one phone call, let alone video chat.

But looking at Ruan Cha’s shining eyes, and remembering how his dad had sat alone in the study before he left for Beijing…

Fu Chen hesitated, then made the video call.

“Ah Chen? What is it?”

Father Fu appeared onscreen, still in his study and wearing the same shirt—probably just finished a video conference. He blinked, momentarily thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Fu Chen shook his head. “Nothing really. Cha Cha and I are heading to the park for the New Year countdown.”

“Hello, Uncle Fu!” Ruan Cha leaned into the frame, beaming. “We wanted to wish you Happy New Year in person. We were afraid you’d be asleep when midnight hits, so we thought we’d call now while we’re still on the way.”

Father Fu instantly understood everything just from that one sentence. He chuckled silently inside but kept a straight face. “Mm, mm. Happy New Year, Cha Cha. You two enjoy yourselves at the park. If anything comes up, let Ah Chen handle it. I’ll tell you now—Ah Chen, he—”

Fu Chen listened expressionlessly as his father started roasting him to Ruan Cha, thinking how immature he was—but still, he didn’t interrupt, dutifully holding the phone so the two could chat.

Honestly, some of the things his dad was recounting—

He barely remembered them himself, but they weren’t bad memories to revisit.

Maybe it was the rare surprise of a video call, or maybe he was just in a good mood—but Father Fu ended up chatting with them all the way to the park, only saying goodbye once they arrived and leaving them the rest of the night to themselves.

Once they got there, Ruan Cha dragged Fu Chen around the park, then lined up to buy the snacks her roommates wanted. Before long, it was 11:30 p.m., and the two of them headed to the reserved presidential suite at West Horizon Hotel.

The hotel stood right at the edge of the Starlight Park light bridge, offering a breathtaking panoramic view. Standing on the top-floor balcony, with glass all around, gave one the illusion of standing on the edge of the galaxy.

Inside, it was warm. But the balcony was icy cold, with a strong night wind blowing. Wrapped in their down jackets, the two of them stood side by side, gazing out over the glowing, bustling park.

The plaza below was packed with people—waving glowsticks, holding balloons, all eagerly waiting for the big clock’s minute hand to hit twelve.

Leaning on the railing, Ruan Cha rested her chin in her hands, staring across at the giant clock. Just two more notches to go. Some people couldn’t wait and had already started counting down.

“Fu Chen, once the countdown starts, there’s something I want to do.”

“Oh?” He looked over. “What is it?”

“You’ll see.” She turned toward him, tilting her head with a playful smile. “Remember the candy I gave you in class? Did you guess why I gave it to you?”

Fu Chen’s smile deepened. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her closer. “I did. I think… I figured it out.”

Ruan Cha: “???”

Figured it out?

She was just about to ask what he meant when—

DONG!

The clock began to chime.

It was midnight. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter. Strangers, friends, lovers—everyone was celebrating the start of a new year.

“I figured…” Fu Chen leaned in slightly, his voice tender and warm, “you wanted to see which was sweeter.”

The next moment, Ruan Cha’s eyes widened.

Her heart seemed to stop.

Before she could say a word, his lips met hers—soft and warm, with a faint taste of mint—stealing her breath along with her thoughts.

The music, the wind, the lights—none of it could compare to the sweetness and gentleness pressed against her lips.

Just as she was starting to recover from the daze, Fu Chen began to pull back. But she wasn’t ready to let go.

With a bold little huff, she reached up, tugged the fur-lined hood of his jacket down over his head, and used both hands to pull him close again.

Right before she kissed him again, she whispered, “You’re sweeter. I need another taste.”

Fu Chen nearly burst out laughing. But he followed her lead, tugging her hood down too, their faces hidden within the fluffy lining.

And as their breath mingled once more, the fur of their hoods intertwined.

Mmm.

Nice and warm in here.

He wouldn’t mind kissing his Cha Cha like this forever.

Ch 235: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

“Little dragon?” Hu Jiao asked, puzzled. Then he thought for a moment—it was likely the plush Lu Yao had given Hu Qi yesterday that he’d brought to school.

After all, Hu Qi was not even six years old yet, with a childlike innocence that adults couldn’t fully understand.

Observing his younger self from a different body was a unique experience.

Hu Jiao’s memories of childhood were filled with violence, scolding, frustration, and helplessness. He’d never dared to delve too deeply into them. But looking at Hu Qi in front of him—face young and bright, eyes clear without a hint of darkness—Hu Jiao saw him eagerly waiting, mouth curved in anticipation.

When Hu Qi didn’t get a response, he gently tugged on Hu Jiao’s sleeve again.

Hu Jiao snapped back to the moment. Unsure of how to interact with a child, he tried to mimic Lu Yao’s gentle tone and demeanor when she spoke with her younger friends. “What little dragon?”

Hu Qi pulled Hu Jiao closer and lowered his voice. “He’s my friend, and he’s only for you to see. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

He remembered his promise to Alfred from last night.

Hu Qi was quite perceptive, always noticing Hu Jiao’s gloomy expression, and he instinctively wanted to cheer him up. Without realizing it, he let slip his little secret.

Only after speaking did he realize his slip-up, but, weighing his options, Hu Qi still hoped to bring a little happiness to Hu Jiao.

Treating a plush as a friend, Hu Jiao barely held back from covering his face in embarrassment.

Even if this child was his younger self, he still looked a bit silly.

Hu Qi could read expressions, but not to the extent that adults could.

He didn’t catch Hu Jiao’s complex feelings and assumed he had agreed, so he carefully pulled his backpack out from under the desk, covering the zipper with his hand as he slowly unzipped it. “His name is Alfred, a cute little black dragon who can talk.”

With the zipper slightly open, the little black dragon inside lifted its head, blinking as it looked up at the two of them.

Hu Jiao was startled. “!!!”

This was Alfred? The tutoring instructor that Xiao Ze and Xiao Xiao had mentioned?

A dragon?

Unbelievable. No one had told him the full story.

Hu Qi was cautious, allowing Hu Jiao only a brief glimpse before quickly tucking the backpack back under the desk.

Unable to resist, Hu Jiao asked, “He really talks?”

Seeing that Hu Jiao seemed a little more cheerful, Hu Qi’s face lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically, putting his hand to his mouth and whispering, “When no one’s around, I’ll call him out to play with us.”

On their first day of school, the teacher finished with the announcements and dismissed the students before noon.

The weather, clear in the morning, had suddenly turned to light rain by dismissal.

Most parents were waiting at the school gate with umbrellas, ready to take their children home. But when Hu Jiao and Hu Qi came out, they saw no sign of their parents.

Hu Jiao remembered that it was always like this when he was young—they would drop him off at school and leave him there.

Whether it was heavy rain or hail, they never came to pick him up.

If he came home late, it would just be another excuse to scold him.

The shop owner had told him not to dwell on the past, but being here, he couldn’t escape the familiar feeling of frustration and helplessness.

He couldn’t break free.

A shadow fell across his young face once again.

Hu Qi stood with him under the school gate’s porch, huddled in a corner to avoid the rain, staying clear of the crowded group.

Carefully, Hu Qi reached out, touching Hu Jiao’s hand, and when he didn’t react, he took his hand in his and let out a cheerful chuckle. “Hu Jiao gege, let’s wait for the rain to let up a bit before we go. Don’t be afraid.”

Hu Jiao looked at Hu Qi’s awkward but warm smile and sighed quietly.

All around, children were coming out of the school, spotting their waiting parents, and running over to grab their hands, disappearing into the rainy day under shared umbrellas.

As people cleared out at the school gate, only the guard and the two boys, Hu Jiao and Hu Qi, remained.

The rain hadn’t lessened; it had only grown heavier.

The guard, hands in his pockets, walked over from the other end. “Kids, is no one coming to pick you up?”

Feeling irritable, Hu Jiao didn’t respond.

Hu Qi replied cheerfully, “We’ll head back when the rain eases up.”

The guard, pitying the two little kids, went back to grab a floral umbrella with two broken ribs. “Here, take this umbrella. No need to return it.”

Hu Jiao stood still.

Hu Qi glanced at him, hesitated, then reached out to take the umbrella.

Just then, soft footsteps approached, and Lu Yao appeared, holding a checkered umbrella. “Sorry, the rain caused a traffic jam, so I’m late. You both were so good, staying right here. Let’s go—I parked just over there.”

Hu Qi’s eyes lit up with pure joy as he ran straight to Lu Yao without a second thought.

Hu Jiao stood there, frozen, until Lu Yao finished exchanging a few words with the guard and called for him to join them.

Lu Yao’s umbrella was large enough to easily cover three adults.

But with Hu Qi and Hu Jiao’s smaller stature and their uncoordinated steps, Lu Yao let them walk hand-in-hand in front while she held the umbrella behind them.

On the drive home, Lu Yao kept the conversation going, with Hu Qi eagerly answering her questions.

He was already very fond of “Auntie Lu” who had given him Alfred.

She was unlike any other adult he had met. She listened to him attentively and responded warmly to everything he said.

It felt as if, around her, the spell of “neglect” that others cast on him simply didn’t exist.

Hu Jiao sat in silence, watching Hu Qi lean forward, his bright eyes fixed on Lu Yao, with an ache in his chest he couldn’t ignore.

Kumquat Elementary wasn’t far from the Kumquat Neighborhood—about a twenty-minute walk, and even less by car.

Lu Yao parked in the garage, and they took the elevator from the basement to the third floor, stopping outside room 305.

Hu Qi paused, a bit dazed. Right, he was home.

Lu Yao pressed the doorbell for him.

When Hu Qi’s mother opened the door, her initial look of impatience slipped into a forced smile as she noticed Lu Yao. Glancing down at Hu Qi, she repressed whatever irritation she was feeling. “Oh, thank you, Hu Jiao’s mom, for bringing Hu Qi home as well.”

Water dripped from the umbrellas propped against the wall, and Lu Yao, expression unsmiling, replied, “Hu Qi’s mom, the rain is quite heavy, and there’s a lot of traffic. It’s generally not safe to have kids make their way home alone in this weather.”

Hu Qi’s mom’s face froze, and she replied awkwardly, “Ah, I guess I was too tired from getting up early. Took some medicine for a headache and didn’t even notice it was raining.”

Lu Yao could see that a few words wouldn’t change Hu Qi’s situation, but she added, “It’s nearly noon. Make sure he gets something to eat. He’s still growing; don’t let him go hungry.”

Knowing Lu Yao was a teacher at Kumquat Elementary, even if just a PE teacher, added some pressure to Hu Qi’s mom, who nodded and pulled Hu Qi inside.

Hu Qi seemed accustomed to his family’s indifference, showing little expression.

As his mother closed the door, he waved enthusiastically and called out loudly, “Goodbye, Auntie Lu! Goodbye, Hu Jiao gege!”

With the closing of room 305’s door, Hu Jiao’s first tutoring session concluded.

His awareness faded briefly, and when he regained it, he was lying on a chair in the tutoring room, covered with the same blanket he’d used the previous night.

Gripping the chair’s armrest, he tried to sit up but felt unusually heavy. Not seeing Lu Yao, he felt a sudden emptiness and, struggling to his feet, walked to the research room door and knocked, receiving no response.

Xiao Xiao, coming out of the bathroom, saw him and asked, “You’re awake. Looking for the shop owner?”

Hu Jiao closed his eyes briefly, thinking, Isn’t it obvious? He nodded.

Xiao Xiao, noticing his downcast mood, recalled her own emotional roller coaster after her first tutoring session.

That feeling of reaching for hope only to lose grasp of it was more unbearable than having no hope at all.

Xiao Xiao walked over and spoke softly, “The shop owner is resting. When she returned this time, she looked completely drained. Even I could see how exhausted she was. If you need something, it’s best to wait until she wakes up. Or, you can talk to me.”

With the shelves emptied and the small shop closed early, only the glass tearoom still had a few guests. Xiao Xiao helped Hu Jiao to a seat in front of the empty shelves.

“Has she ever been this tired from tutoring before?” Hu Jiao asked.

Xiao Xiao thought for a moment and shook her head. “After past sessions, she always looked refreshed. This time, it seemed like she was about to pass out. Your tutoring must be different from mine.”

Hu Jiao asked about Xiao Xiao’s tutoring experience and fell silent after listening.

Noticing the gloom that seemed to surround him, Xiao Xiao couldn’t help but say, “Trust the shop owner. She’s one of those rare people who can genuinely empathize with others’ situations. If she’s decided to help you, she’ll give it her all.”

As they chatted, Xiaomei and Zheng Siyao, who had visited yesterday, suddenly reappeared.

At first, Xiao Xiao thought they were there to ask about tutoring, but they pulled out an official transfer document with serious expressions.

Hu Jiao’s live broadcast last night had caused such a stir, attracting millions of viewers. The authorities were initially planning to transfer him to a high-security psychiatric hospital.

The Supernatural Research Institute caught wind of this and intervened, requesting custody.

The two were there to escort Hu Jiao to the institute.

When Lu Yao awoke, Hu Jiao had already been taken away.

Xiao Xiao looked guilty. “I’m sorry, Shop Owner. I couldn’t stop them.”

Lu Yao, draped in a blanket, sat in the wicker chair in front of the shelves, gazing through the glass at passersby, while Erxin brushed against her leg for comfort. She reassured Xiao Xiao, “It’s fine. Zheng Siyao sent a message explaining the situation. We don’t need to worry about Hu Jiao for now. I’ll bring him back for his tutoring sessions. In his case, it might even help him to interact with more normal people.”

Xiao Xiao nodded, though she couldn’t help but wonder if the people at the institute really counted as “normal.”

Leaning back in her chair, Lu Yao’s fatigue was evident as she sighed, “The most urgent task right now is finding a qualified tutoring instructor.”

Xiao Xiao glanced at the recruitment notice posted on the door, hesitated, then spoke up, “Shop Owner, do you think I could become a tutor?”

Despite her nerves, her gaze was steady.

Since joining the tutoring center, Xiao Xiao had set a new life goal for herself. She wanted to become a tutor like Alfred, guiding people lost in life.

Though she knew she wasn’t ready yet, she couldn’t stay calm after hearing that Lu Yao was looking for instructors.

Lu Yao wasn’t surprised. “Our center’s instructors need a certain level of expertise. I’ve organized the relevant books and materials; they’re in drawer ninety-nine.”

Xiao Xiao eagerly rushed into the tutoring room and retrieved the materials from drawer ninety-nine.

Just as she had trained nail technicians in the past, Lu Yao was now preparing to train tutoring instructors.

Tutors trained by the Childhood Tutoring Center were required to sign a five-year contract.

Five years later, they would be free to stay or leave as they wished.

Seeing Xiao Xiao’s enthusiasm, Lu Yao retrieved a slip of paper from her personal storage. “Xiao Xiao, when you have a moment, please contact this client.”

Xiao Xiao took the slip and unfolded it, revealing a familiar yet distant name, followed by a series of numbers.

Lu Yao explained, “I tried to persuade her, but she refused to come. Maybe you’ll have better luck. I know you might not want to see her again…”

“I understand. I’ll reach out,” Xiao Xiao interjected firmly.

Exhausted, Lu Yao sat outside for a while before returning to the research room to rest.

In the evening, Ji Feiming arrived, bringing toys and snacks restocked from the snack shop, nail salon, and blind box store. Seeing that Lu Yao was still resting, he and Xiao Xiao handled the stocking quietly, not disturbing her.

The next morning, just as the tutoring center opened, Xiaomei and Zheng Siyao arrived with two others. The group of four included Xiaomei, Zheng Siyao, An Yan, and a test subject.

Xiao Xiao guided them to the tutoring room, made tea for them, and then knocked on the research room door.

The door opened, and a tricolor cat burst out before Lu Yao emerged.

Zheng Siyao and Xiaomei greeted Lu Yao, who replied warmly, inquiring about Hu Jiao’s situation before turning her attention to An Yan and the test subject.

An Yan wore frameless glasses, his short hair silver, with vivid red eyes like pigeon’s blood and an unnaturally pale complexion. No one seemed to find his appearance unusual, suggesting that here he had no need to disguise it.

Responding politely to Lu Yao’s greeting, An Yan gave only a slight nod, his demeanor cool.

Only Zheng Siyao noticed An Yan’s erratic heartbeat, confirming that her suspicions on the train hadn’t been a mistake.

Looking at An Yan’s indifferent expression, she couldn’t help but shake her head.

This man was beyond saving.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 234: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

Little Hu Qi’s eyes lit up when he saw the black dragon plush. He looked up at the man for approval, and only after receiving it did he carefully reach out. “Thank you, Auntie.”

Lu Yao cheerfully nudged Hu Jiao, who was clinging to her leg, forward and introduced him. “This is my little one, Lu Hu Jiao. He’s six years old.”

Hu Jiao, slightly taller than Hu Qi, seemed stiff and unsure of what to say, still adjusting to his new role.

Hu Qi blinked his big, bright eyes twice and softly greeted him, “Hello, big brother.”

He was also six but hadn’t had his birthday yet, so he instinctively addressed Hu Jiao as his elder.

Lu Yao and Hu Jiao didn’t linger long at Hu Qi’s house. After giving the gift and exchanging a few pleasantries with the man, they left.

Throughout their visit, the lady of the house never appeared, and Lu Yao didn’t ask about her.

After leaving Hu Qi’s home, Hu Jiao’s mood was noticeably low.

Lu Yao asked him to return home while she delivered the remaining pastry boxes to other neighbors.

Back in 305.

Hu Qi’s mother stood by the window with her hair disheveled, eavesdropping on the hallway sounds, occasionally casting a glance at Hu Qi standing in the corner.

Hu Qi was holding his new black dragon plush, feeling quietly happy, not noticing his mother’s gaze.

As soon as the door to 306 opened and closed, Hu Qi’s mother frowned, turned back, and snatched the plush from his hands, scolding, “Playtime’s over! Go practice the piano!”

With that, she tossed the plush into the trash.

Hu Qi didn’t dare to disobey and silently returned to the piano room.

But soon after the piano started, the music abruptly stopped again.

In 306.

Hu Jiao sat on the sofa near the window, his eyes dark. “When I was young, I always obeyed her commands. I thought it was because I loved her. Later, I found out that her ability activated through spoken words, and anyone with a lower power level than hers had no choice but to obey.”

Lu Yao paused her task of organizing clothes. “A power of verbal control?”

Hu Jiao: “Something like that.”

Lu Yao: “If she had such a power, she could have resisted your father, couldn’t she?”

A look of sarcastic bitterness, far beyond his years, crossed Hu Jiao’s youthful face. “Though her power has potential, she herself has little interest in it. Most of her time is spent dressing up and competing with others. Apart from controlling me as a child, her power affects no one.”

Seeing Hu Jiao’s face grow darker, Lu Yao quietly considered whether it might be best to suppress some of his memories to ease the tutoring process. After a moment, she dismissed the thought, walked over, held his face gently, and spoke softly, “Dwelling too much on the past can consume you. We didn’t cross time from the future to relive pain, did we?”

Hu Jiao snapped out of his thoughts, meeting her gaze—firm but gentle. Startled, he jerked back, breaking free and shrinking into a corner. “If you have something to say, just say it! You—you—”

Lu Yao replied calmly, “Right now, I’m your mom. You’ll need to get used to it. Tomorrow’s your first day at school, and I can see your social skills aren’t quite up to little Hu Qi’s level. You should start planning for tomorrow. Don’t end up alone, friendless.”

Hu Jiao hesitated. “I…”

After a long day of moving in, visiting neighbors, and organizing, Lu Yao prepared a simple dinner of two bowls of noodles.

It was basic soy sauce noodles, topped with a few crisp greens and a fried egg, golden on both sides.

Hu Jiao took a bite, a hint of surprise flickering on his face. After a moment, he muttered with a hint of indifference, “Not bad.”

Lu Yao didn’t argue with the child, simply replying, “Good boy.”

Hu Jiao: “…”

After dinner, Hu Jiao began to pack his own school bag.

He carefully wrote his name in a notebook and then turned to Lu Yao. “Why is my last name Lu? Are we a single-parent family?”

Lu Yao, folding clothes, froze for a moment, a vague sense of déjà vu washing over her.

—“I don’t want the last name ‘Lu.’ I don’t want to share a surname with you.”

—”Then, what surname do you like? You can choose.”

The sound of flipping pages echoed in her mind. After a while, a clear and youthful voice answered, “I want this ‘Lu’ (陆). Lu… Xiao and Lu Yao. Similar, yet different.”

It seemed Lu Yao chuckled softly. “Childish.”

…

“What are you thinking about?” Hu Jiao, having jumped down from his chair at some point, was standing in front of Lu Yao, looking up at her with a curious expression. “You’re smiling kind of weird.”

Startled, Lu Yao raised her hand to rub her forehead gently, replying casually, “Oh, nothing. Go play once you finish packing your bag and don’t disturb Mom while she’s doing chores.”

Hu Jiao: “…”

…

Tianshu City, Qianmen Mountain.

A young figure stood under the icy eaves, gazing up at the mountain peak and murmuring, “The first snow hasn’t come yet?”

Qianmen Mountain was snow-covered year-round, but the child stubbornly waited for the first snow after the onset of winter.

They always spoke of how the first snow marked the time to descend the mountain.

Ji Feichen, standing nearby, replied, “By this time in past years, the mountain had already seen several snowfalls. For some reason, the first snow has been delayed this year.”

The child looked up at the sky, their long, ice-carved lashes fluttering gently, and a spark of joy danced in their crimson eyes. “It should be soon.”

The sky over the mountain was typically a dull gray, and Ji Feichen couldn’t discern anything different from usual.

…

Tangerine City, Kumquat Neighborhood.

Hu Qi had eaten dinner alone, fetched water to wash up, changed into pajamas, and climbed into bed, his mind lingering on the little dragon plush his mother had thrown away.

The moment he saw that plush, he’d felt an instant fondness for it, wanting to retrieve it but afraid of his mother’s reaction.

As he climbed into bed, Hu Qi noticed a bump in the middle, thinking it was just the pillow beneath the covers. But when he lifted the blanket, he was startled to see the little black dragon, curled up with its tail, lying there.

Realizing he’d been found, Alfred rose up and greeted him, “Hello, I’m Alfred.”

Hu Qi wasn’t scared. He eagerly climbed onto the bed, carefully reaching out to poke Alfred’s round belly, his eyes shining. “You’re really a dragon! How did you come to my house?”

Alfred wrapped his short, chubby claws around his chest with effort. “Did you forget? Auntie Lu from next door gave me to you today.”

Hu Qi looked at him in surprise. “You’re the little dragon plush?”

Alfred nodded solemnly. “But it’s a secret—don’t let the adults know. You have to keep it for me, okay?”

Hu Qi nodded vigorously, his eyes filled with joy. “Are you going to stay here?”

Alfred stepped closer, patting Hu Qi’s knee gently. “Yes. I’ll be your companion from now on, so you can tell me anything you need to.”

That night, little Hu Qi, who had nothing, received the most precious gift of his life—a treasure that belonged only to him.

He now had a secret friend named Alfred.

In the morning, reluctant to leave Alfred alone at home, Hu Qi secretly stashed him in his backpack.

The man had already left early for work, and the woman had spent over an hour on her makeup, without even checking whether he’d packed his school supplies.

As they headed out, they encountered Lu Yao and Hu Jiao, who were also leaving.

The two families exchanged polite greetings and rode the elevator down together, chatting along the way.

Upon learning that Hu Qi and his mother were also headed to Kumquat Elementary, Lu Yao offered to give them a lift.

The woman glanced at Lu Yao’s new car, forcing a smile, and after a couple of polite refusals, accepted the ride.

She sat in the front seat, while Hu Jiao and Hu Qi sat in the back.

On the way to school, the woman kept inspecting the car’s interior and subtly probing about Lu Yao’s job.

With a smile, Lu Yao replied, “Oh, didn’t I mention it? I’m a teacher at Kumquat Elementary.”

Hu Jiao, who had been racking his brain on how to strike up a conversation with his younger self, thought, “???”

The woman’s expression shifted uncomfortably. “Oh… so you’re a teacher.”

Ms. Lu responded cheerfully, “No need to be nervous. I’m just a PE teacher, actually.”

Upon arriving at Kumquat Elementary, the woman quickly bid Lu Yao and Hu Jiao farewell, hurrying off with Hu Qi.

But just as she found Hu Qi’s classroom, she saw Lu Yao and Hu Jiao entering as well.

With a bright smile, Lu Yao greeted her, “Oh, Hu Qi’s mom, it seems we’re truly fated! Hu Jiao and Hu Qi will be classmates from now on.”

“…” Hu Qi’s mother forced a smile and nodded.

Once the children were in the classroom, there wasn’t much left for the parents to do.

However, before leaving, Lu Yao made a firm arrangement for Hu Jiao and Hu Qi to sit together as desk mates.

Hu Jiao still hadn’t figured out how to talk to Hu Qi.

Even though his appearance had changed, his identity was different, and he was physically smaller, he couldn’t bring himself to interact naturally with his younger self.

Under the desk, Hu Qi tugged on his sleeve, his voice soft, “Hu Jiao gege, do you want to see my little dragon?”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ch 233: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

As soon as Hu Jiao recognized the place, he suddenly squatted down, covering his mouth.

Lu Yao looked down at him.

All color had drained from the young man’s face, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. His eyes were filled with loathing, and he spoke in a hoarse voice, “Lu Yao, I want to go back.”

Lu Yao hadn’t expected him to have such a strong reaction to this place, even experiencing severe physical discomfort.

She bent down to support him, intending to take him back to regroup.

At that moment, the elevator at the end of the corridor opened, and a family of three stepped out.

Hu Jiao glanced over and could no longer hold back the nausea he had been suppressing; he immediately began to vomit.

The man emerging from the elevator was dressed in a tailored suit, with gold-rimmed glasses and neatly combed-back hair. He held the hand of a child dressed in a matching small suit. A woman in a mustard-yellow dress, carrying a handbag, walked behind them, chatting with someone else who exited alongside them.

Upon hearing the sound, everyone stopped and looked over, their expressions filled with disdain.

Hu Jiao clutched Lu Yao’s hand tightly, unable to stop trembling, and bent over to vomit again.

Noticing the looks from the other group, Lu Yao forced a smile and explained, “He has an upset stomach. Sorry about that. We’ll clean up shortly.”

The group walked past them, and Lu Yao overheard the woman mutter, “Disgusting.”

Hu Jiao closed his eyes, leaning heavily against Lu Yao, his grip on her hand painfully tight.

Supporting him, Lu Yao glanced toward the family. They had stopped in front of door 305, where the child, with furrowed brows that looked a mix of concern and curiosity, was straining his neck to look back at them, only to be pulled inside by the man.

The door opened and shut, and Lu Yao caught a fleeting glimpse of terror and despair in the child’s expression.

The person they had been chatting with entered room 306.

After a few minutes, Hu Jiao managed to steady himself, holding onto the railing as he stood, his face pale and defeated. “I don’t think your tutoring can help me.”

Lu Yao gently patted his back. “Let’s go back for now.”

Back at the Childhood Tutoring Center, Hu Jiao rushed to the bathroom and vomited again over the toilet.

Lu Yao poured warm water and set it on the table, waiting for him to come out.

When she first met Hu Jiao, he already had a hoarse voice.

She hadn’t thought much of it then, but now she had a rough idea of the reason.

After emptying his stomach, Hu Jiao rinsed his mouth and splashed cold water on his face, staring at his pale, disheveled reflection in the mirror as a shadowy loathing surfaced from the depths of his eyes.

“Hu Jiao, feeling any better?” Lu Yao’s voice came from outside the door.

He wiped his face, opened the door, glanced at her, and gave a slight nod.

His throat felt raw after vomiting, making it difficult to speak.

Lu Yao said, “I poured you some water and brought some throat lozenges. Come over, have a drink, and take a lozenge. I’ll ask Xiao Ji to bring some food over. What do you feel like eating? Anything you want. We have a few great chefs, skilled in all kinds of flavors. If you like seafood, they can make that too. But for now, it’s best if you avoid raw foods. One of our pastry chefs makes a world-class seafood noodle dish—want to try it?”

Hu Jiao looked at her, his face cold, and his voice came out rough, like sandpaper scraping over metal, “Are you pitying me?”

The latest data had just emerged from the small silver orb, and as Lu Yao sorted through it, she shook her head. “A young person like you probably hasn’t seen much. This is just regular hospitality for a guest.”

Hu Jiao sat across from her, drank some water, and put the lozenge in his mouth. The cool, faintly sweet flavor eased the discomfort in his throat and lessened his nausea.

Hu Jiao unfolded the candy wrapper on the table, noticing it was a brand he hadn’t seen before.

Casually, he slipped the wrapper into his pocket, glancing at Lu Yao now and then. “The three people who stepped out of the elevator first were my parents and the younger me.”

Lu Yao wasn’t surprised. “I could tell. That child looked a lot like you.”

Hu Jiao propped his hand on his forehead, closing his eyes. Memories buried deep within his mind resurfaced, haunting him. “The man in the suit is actually a violent maniac. He acts refined in public, but at home, he constantly beats his wife and child, claiming it’s his way to relieve stress. His superpower can even hide injuries, leaving no evidence. The woman is weak and vain. To her, the child is just a tool to please her husband, fight for attention, and maintain appearances. Lu Yao, I don’t want to go back to the past or change myself. I can’t escape. Even though I managed to climb out of that place they called ‘home,’ I can’t live a good life. They’re like shadows that haunt me, always close behind. I can’t shake them off—I’m exhausted. Last night, it would’ve been better if you hadn’t stepped outside for fresh air.”

The fatigue and helplessness in his voice hinted at deep despair, as if a hand from hell were dragging him further into darkness.

Lu Yao skimmed through the information, highlighting key points before looking up. “You don’t need to change anything because none of it was your fault. Did you notice the younger you just now? Struggling to walk while half-lifted by his father, leaning awkwardly to one side. While others walked by indifferently, only he looked back at us with concern.”

Hu Jiao’s expression froze.

Lu Yao capped her pen and extended a hand toward him. “I have a suggestion: for this session, how about you rescue him yourself and help him escape?”

Hu Jiao was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Lu Yao replied, “Well, this session will be different from previous ones, so we’ll need to make some adjustments. I can’t explain it fully just yet, but you’ll understand during the formal session this afternoon.”

Lu Yao then used her phone to message Zhou Su and Ji Feiming, ordering a seafood noodle dish and asking Xiao Ji to deliver it to the tutoring center.

After that, she picked up the small black dragon figurine on the table and went into the research lab.

Around twenty minutes later, Xiao Ji arrived with a fresh, steaming seafood noodle dish.

This was Hu Jiao’s first time seeing Ji Feiming. The older man, in a tailored suit with perfectly styled hair, made Hu Jiao take three steps back as if he’d seen something unpleasant.

Ji Feiming: “…”

Lu Yao came out of the lab just in time to see this scene. Noticing Ji’s confused expression, she explained, “This guest has a bit of PTSD with suits. You can go ahead now.”

Ji Feiming: “…Understood.”

“People who come for childhood tutoring all have their quirks,” he thought.

Watching the well-dressed, elite-looking delivery man show such respect to the shop owner, Hu Jiao was perplexed. “Who is he?”

Lu Yao replied, “He’s our delivery person.”

Hu Jiao: “…The delivery guy dresses that formally?”

Lu Yao: “…Yes, that’s his personal style. Just ignore it.”

Hu Jiao sat down, took a bite of the seafood noodles, and his eyes widened. “This is amazing! Can I stream this?”

Lu Yao sat across from him. “After that big scene last night, you still want to stream?”

After thinking about it, Hu Jiao reluctantly shook his head. “You’re right. With the tutoring session coming up, I don’t have the energy for it. Just a habit.”

Lu Yao asked, “By the way, will the Security Bureau be looking for you?”

Hu Jiao shrugged, looking unfazed. “Let them. I’m not scared.”

As a child, he’d called the Security Bureau to report the man’s violence, but it never led anywhere.

Initially, no one even answered. Eventually, he kept calling until two officers finally came to investigate but only asked a few questions before leaving.

The worst time, he was nearly beaten to death, yet the officers noticed nothing.

The live stream last night had a bigger impact than Lu Yao had anticipated. By ten in the morning, the store’s shelves had been emptied three times, and a line was still forming outside.

Lu Yao instructed Xiao Ji to restock and stay at the tutoring center to assist, as Xiao Xiao was overwhelmed managing inventory and attending to customers on her own.

Around noon, Lu Yao received several clients interested in childhood tutoring, registering them and scheduling sessions.

With the influx of new clients, the tutoring center urgently needed more tutors, so Lu Yao had the system post a new hiring notice at the entrance.

After lunch, she informed Xiao Xiao and Xiao Ji that once the afternoon stock was sold out, they could close up for the day without restocking.

Then, she took out her key to begin Hu Jiao’s childhood tutoring.

…

When the bright light faded, Hu Jiao opened his eyes, finding himself back in the same dark, narrow corridor.

However, something felt different about his perspective—everything seemed taller, and his field of view was lower and narrower.

He looked up to see a pair of long legs. As he slowly raised his gaze, his eyes widened. “Lu Yao, what’s going on?”

The moment he spoke, Hu Jiao immediately covered his mouth.

His voice was high-pitched and childlike, clear and bright like a young child’s.

Realizing he had somehow shrunk, he looked up at Lu Yao, who also appeared slightly different from the person he knew.

She was wearing a long trench coat with high heels, her hair styled in a low bun, holding a shiny handbag with one hand and a large suitcase handle with the other.

She looked far more mature than usual, though she still wore her signature gold lotus earring on her left ear.

Lu Yao freed a hand to gently ruffle Hu Jiao’s hair. “What Lu Yao? Call me ‘Mom’!”

Hu Jiao clutched his head, stumbling back a step, utterly baffled. “…”

What kind of bizarre role-play was this?

Lu Yao took him to move into the neighboring apartment, 306, which had recently been vacated.

The apartment wasn’t particularly large, about ninety square meters, with two bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, a small study, and a modest kitchen.

Her role was that of a thirty-year-old professional mother who had just moved to Tangerine City with her six-year-old son, Lu Hu Jiao, who was about to start primary school.

Sitting on the sofa in the living room, Hu Jiao wore a look of despair. “Is this the special tutoring plan? Making me go through elementary, middle, and university again?”

Lu Yao nodded. “You could think of it that way.”

Hu Jiao sighed. “What’s the point of growing up again with all these memories? Didn’t you say it wasn’t my fault? But in the end, you still want me to change.”

Sitting across from him, Lu Yao took out her phone, opened the selfie mode, and handed it to him. “Strictly speaking, you’re not yourself right now. You’re my child, so your appearance is also a bit different.”

On the screen, the face reflected back wasn’t the familiar young Hu Jiao but a little boy who bore a strong resemblance to Lu Yao.

As Hu Jiao stared in surprise, Lu Yao continued, “Normally, standard tutoring would seal the student’s memories, with Alfred guiding them. But your case is unique, so we decided on a special tutoring method.”

Hu Jiao snapped out of his daze. “Then what about Alfred? Won’t he be here?”

He felt a bit disappointed, as other students had Alfred as their guide, while he was left to face the shop owner daily.

Lu Yao shook her head. “Of course he’ll be here. He’ll still guide the younger version of you. But in this specific scenario, you know better than anyone that no one will come to save young Hu Jiao—except you.”

Hu Jiao’s expression tightened.

The shop owner was sometimes blunt and even harsh.

With just that one sentence, he found himself unable to reject any of her plans.

Yes, he understood.

No one would come to save him except himself.

Hu Jiao’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “What do I need to do?”

Lu Yao smiled gently. “First, try calling me ‘Mom.’”

Hu Jiao: “…”

Lu Yao stopped joking, stood up, and went to the kitchen to grab a few boxes of prepared pastries and gifts. “Since we just moved in, it’s only polite to visit our neighbors. Hu Jiao, come along with Mom for a quick trip.”

Unable to hold back, Hu Jiao rolled his eyes, slowly getting off the couch and walking to the entryway to put on his shoes.

Lu Yao waited patiently by the door, holding out her hand once he’d put on his shoes.

After a brief hesitation, Hu Jiao walked over and took her hand.

Her hand was somewhat slender but soft and warm—different from the hands of the woman in his memories.

As they stood outside, they heard the sound of a piano coming from room 305.

Lu Yao planned to visit the nearby units first to practice her conversation skills, saving 305 for last.

But just then, the piano stopped abruptly. Hu Jiao paused, took a deep breath, and looked up at Lu Yao. “It’s starting.”

It was always like this when he was young. His mother wanted him to make her proud, signing him up for multiple tutoring classes—piano, advanced math, calligraphy.

He was talented and excelled at each.

They’d even bought him an expensive piano, which he had to practice for hours every day.

But the man’s moods were unpredictable; he’d praise him when pleased and suddenly lash out when irritated, without warning.

Whenever the piano abruptly stopped, it usually meant the man was in a foul mood.

Lu Yao turned, guiding Hu Jiao as she pressed the doorbell of 305.

There was no answer, so Lu Yao pressed it a few more times and then knocked. “Excuse me, is anyone home?”

After two or three minutes, the door opened from the inside, and a well-dressed man peeked out. “Who are you?”

Lu Yao nudged the door open slightly and handed over the pastry box. “Hello, I’m Lu Yao, the new neighbor in 306. This is my son, Hu Jiao.”

The man accepted the pastries and glanced down at the small boy clinging to Lu Yao’s leg, a faint smile on his lips. “How thoughtful.”

Startled by the smile, Hu Jiao instinctively grabbed onto Lu Yao’s leg, trying to hide behind her.

Lu Yao bent down slightly, putting her arm around him, and offered an awkward smile. “This little guy is usually full of energy, but he gets shy around strangers. I heard you have a child around the same age?”

The man gave a lukewarm nod.

Lu Yao pretended not to notice his impatience and continued the conversation. “I heard piano music from your place just now. Was that your child practicing?”

The man’s brow furrowed, and he turned back, calling, “Hu Qi, come out and say hello to your aunt and brother.”

Hu Jiao’s real name was Hu Qi.

Little Hu Qi came out of the room, traces of tears still visible on his cheeks.

Noticing Lu Yao’s curious look, the man’s shoulders stiffened as he awkwardly explained, “He wasn’t focusing on his practice, just thinking about snacks, so I had to scold him a bit.”

Standing by Lu Yao’s feet, Hu Jiao met the younger Hu Qi’s gaze, a complex mix of emotions filling him.

Hu Qi looked a bit bewildered but obediently walked to his father’s side, showing no reaction to his words, and greeted softly, “Hello, Auntie.”

Lu Yao pulled out a plush doll resembling a small black dragon and handed it over. “Hello, little Hu Qi. It’s nice to meet you. Here’s a little black dragon for you—his name is Alfred. Whenever you feel troubled, you can talk to him.”

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Ch 232: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World

Xiao Ze stood in place, hesitating to move forward.

Alfred flew up to him and gently patted him. “What’s wrong?”

Xiao Ze shook his head.

The young man on the bench, sensing something, turned around. Upon seeing Xiao Ze and Alfred, he immediately stood up and walked toward them with long strides.

The young man looked exactly like Xiao Ze, but his expression was entirely different.

His soft face bore a faint, gentle smile, and his eyes were bright with spirit. Without hesitation, he walked up and embraced the small, plump dragon, his voice filled with joy. “Mr. Alfred!”

Alfred let him nuzzle his face, but when the young man wouldn’t let go for a while, Alfred firmly pushed him away, pointing to Xiao Ze, who stood nearby, stiff and tense. “He’s the one.”

Xiao Ze’s hands, hanging by his sides, clenched suddenly as he struggled to control his trembling.

Although he’d suspected the truth, he had clung to a sliver of hope out of trust in the shop owner and Alfred.

But hearing Alfred’s blunt declaration felt like the shattering of a dream.

It was as if he was sinking back into the quagmire of his childhood, feeling weighed down, unable to bring himself to look at the young man’s expression across from him.

He must be disappointed.

Yet, the young man looked at Xiao Ze without a trace of surprise, reaching out his hand slowly. “Hello, twenty-two-year-old me.”

Xiao Ze instinctively looked up, his pupils narrowing. “You knew it was me?”

The young man clasped his hand, his smile still gentle. “I guessed.”

The young man led Xiao Ze and Alfred back to the bench, where he once again held Alfred in his arms, speaking in a soft, nostalgic tone. “Until I was eighteen, your letters kept pushing me forward. More accurate than any prophecy, they predicted every problem I would face, patiently offering solutions. But when I turned eighteen, I started to wonder—besides myself, who else would care for me with such dedication? One day, while writing a prescription for a patient, I noticed my handwriting matched the letters exactly. So, it was clear who this ‘special person’ Mr. Alfred mentioned really was.”

Xiao Ze looked at him, realizing he seemed like an entirely different person.

His mannerisms, his personality, his profession, his thoughts—none of it matched his own.

Xiao Ze’s emotions were so tangled he couldn’t sort them out, unsure whether to feel relieved or saddened. “Aren’t you disappointed?”

The young man handed him a handkerchief, smiling and shaking his head. “I’m actually very happy. The twenty-two-year-old me didn’t forget the five-year-old version of me, and he even went out of his way to bring Mr. Alfred back to help me. The treasure I searched the world for and could never find was finally delivered to me through Mr. Alfred. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for loving me so deeply.”

Xiao Ze bent forward, elbows on his knees, pressing his left hand firmly over his eyes.

If he hadn’t been lucky that night and happened to meet Lu Yao, he would’ve already given up.

Grief and shame churned within him, making it impossible to speak to this young man.

He was just too good.

Gentle, steady, thoughtful, and bright, he’d grown into a strength Xiao Ze hadn’t dared to dream of.

The young man and Alfred remained silent, their gazes drifting to the river’s surface, and they shared a knowing smile.

After a long while, Xiao Ze’s emotions began to settle, though his ears and eyes were still red.

Feeling both embarrassed and aware of the rare opportunity, he finally spoke up. “You’re a doctor now?”

The young man’s warm gaze fell on him, and he nodded gently. Extending his right hand, he activated his superpower, and a small light that had once been confined to his fingers gradually permeated through his skin, solidifying into a sharp, golden blade. “My power went through a second awakening. Initially, my fingers could only emit light, but with training, I gradually learned to manipulate it to create solid forms. By the time I took the professional exams, I could wield this light blade to perform some precise surgeries. So, now I’m a doctor.”

Xiao Ze was deeply moved, staring in disbelief and fascination at the young man’s fingertips. He murmured, “I thought my ability was one of the lowest, unworthy of even a power test. Yet, it actually awakened a second time.”

The young man nodded with complete understanding. “I know what you’re feeling; after all, I am you. Over ten years ago, Mr. Alfred brought me your letters and left a book. Inside the front cover was a passage that inspired me to break past the accepted limits, leading to my second awakening at fifteen. Mr. Alfred didn’t lie to me.”

Xiao Ze looked down at Alfred, who spread his paws proudly, a smug expression on his face.

The young man gently petted Alfred’s wings, then pulled out a stack of letters with a book underneath. “These are my replies, starting from the year I entered boarding school. Now, they’re finally in your hands. And here’s Mr. Alfred’s book—I think you’ll find it interesting.”

Xiao Ze’s brows twitched slightly, and after a pause, he reached out to take them.

The young man stood up, patted Xiao Ze’s shoulder, and smiled. “Thank you for giving me seventeen years that were unlike any other.”

He slowly leaned closer to Xiao Ze, his smile as light and relaxed as a drifting cloud, his form becoming hazy like a shadow until he disappeared entirely.

Xiao Ze stood up in a panic, looking around. “Where did he go?”

Alfred flew up, extended a paw, and gently tapped Xiao Ze’s chest. “He’s right here.”

Xiao Ze collapsed back onto the bench, looking lost.

Alfred landed beside him, his short, stout paw lightly patting Xiao Ze’s arm. “Don’t look so gloomy. There’s a saying by a man named Albert Camus: ‘Not being loved is just bad luck, but not knowing how to love is a great misfortune.’ You see, whether it’s loving others or oneself, the power of ‘love’ doesn’t fade. The one you love dearly hasn’t disappeared; he’s just returned to your heart as a spark. Usually, when a person learns to ‘love’ themselves, love from others naturally follows. Xiao Ze, congratulations on completing your tutoring!”

Xiao Ze remained silent.

Alfred, respecting his need for space, quietly sat with him, staying by his side as the sun rose, peaked, and began to set.

Finally, Xiao Ze gathered his emotions, clutching the letters and book as he stood up. “Mr. Alfred, let’s go back.”

Alfred flew up to catch up with him, his short paw giving Xiao Ze’s head a light pat. “Alright.”

When Xiao Ze and Lu Yao returned to the tutoring center, only three minutes had passed.

Hu Jiao had just come back from outside with an armful of snacks. Seeing the two appear suddenly, he was no longer surprised and glanced at the table, noting that the small black dragon and silver orb had returned as well.

Xiao Ze’s eyes were still red, and he felt a bit self-conscious in front of Hu Jiao. He handed the letters and book to Lu Yao before heading to the bathroom to collect himself.

Lu Yao took out a specially crafted box, intending to place the letters and book inside so Xiao Ze could take them home later.

Curious, Hu Jiao leaned over, eyes fixed on the purple cover. “What book is that? Can I take a look?”

Lu Yao replied, “This is Xiao Ze’s book. You can ask him later.”

A few minutes later, Xiao Ze emerged from the bathroom.

Hu Jiao immediately called out, “Senior, can I see that book?”

Xiao Ze paused mid-step. “Senior?”

Hu Jiao replied, “We’re both tutoring students, and you were here first, so I thought it’d be okay to call you that.”

Xiao Ze scratched his head. “How old are you?”

Hu Jiao answered, “I’ll be seventeen in two months.”

Xiao Ze: “So, you just graduated recently. Was your career assessment result ‘freelance’?”

Hu Jiao shook his head. “I didn’t finish college. I dropped out in my second year. I ran away from home, couldn’t find a suitable job, and ended up becoming a live-streamer.”

Xiao Ze looked a bit embarrassed. “Sorry about that.”

Hu Jiao waved it off casually. “No worries, bro. Can I take a look at that book?”

It had been a while since he’d actually sat down to read a book, and he found himself somewhat interested.

There were still many customers outside, so after packing Xiao Ze’s items, Lu Yao went out to help.

Xiao Ze walked to the table and saw the letters and book neatly placed in a bright orange square box, with a small white velvet box on top of the book.

He picked it up and opened it, revealing an oval-shaped golden badge, about the size of an adult’s thumb. At the bottom of the badge was a line of small text: “Childhood Tutoring Center Graduation Commemoration.”

The polished, delicate badge gleamed against the white velvet lining.

This was a keepsake given to every graduate of the Childhood Tutoring Center.

Xiao Ze gently touched it before placing it back, then picked up the book beneath it, pulled up a chair, and sat down. “I haven’t read it either. Want to read together?”

Hu Jiao, who usually felt uncomfortable around adults, felt a bit hesitant.

Meanwhile, Xiao Ze had already opened to the first page.

Hu Jiao’s gaze followed naturally, his pupils trembling slightly.

The room fell into silence as their eyes met the words on the pale yellow pages, a message he’d never seen anywhere else.

As the rush of customers eased, Lu Yao called Xiao Xiao to have breakfast.

With the glass tea rooms occupied by customers, Xiao Xiao had to eat in the tutoring room.

She entered with her meal, noticing Xiao Ze and Hu Jiao reading together, and greeted them, “So, your last tutoring session is over?”

Both had arrived in the morning, and Xiao Ze knew Xiao Xiao had switched jobs.

Considering their past interactions, meeting again had been a bit awkward.

Especially after the tutoring, with a change in mindset, Xiao Ze couldn’t help but reflect on their earlier days. They both had their share of mistakes.

However, seeing her calm and unaffected expression, he adjusted his own and nodded, “Yes, just finished today. The shop owner even gave me a commemorative badge.”

Xiao Xiao sat at another table, opened her lunchbox, and smiled. “That badge is adorable—I have one too. Is that book also part of the graduation gift?”

Xiao Ze nodded. “Yes, a gift from Mr. Alfred.”

Xiao Xiao smiled warmly. “I got a similar gift.”

For her, that piece of news had been the best gift.

She couldn’t resist adding, “Mr. Alfred is truly adorable.”

Hu Jiao, feeling left out of the conversation, interjected, “Where’s Lu Yao? When does my tutoring start?”

He, too, wanted to meet the legendary Alfred.

Xiao Xiao replied, “Once I finish eating, I’ll cover for her. But tutoring takes a lot of energy, so the shop owner needs rest. Don’t rush her.”

Seeing the store bustling, Xiao Ze got ready to leave, clutching his belongings. As he left, he offered to lend the book to Hu Jiao.

Hu Jiao waved it off.

It was a good book, but it already bore Xiao Ze’s personal mark.

A quiet sense of longing rose in Hu Jiao’s heart—he, too, wanted a unique gift, one that was entirely his own, with no conditions attached.

He just didn’t know whom to ask.

When Lu Yao came in, she saw Hu Jiao lost in thought. She walked straight to the drawer and retrieved his psychic key and documents. “Hu Jiao, it’s your turn.”

Hu Jiao snapped out of his thoughts. “Xiao Xiao said you needed to rest.”

Lu Yao shook her head. “It’s fine. I want to take a quick look at the situation. The formal tutoring starts in the afternoon.”

Based on the memories she’d glimpsed last night, Hu Jiao’s circumstances were somewhat different from Xiao Ze’s and Xiao Xiao’s, so this session would likely require more effort.

Hu Jiao activated his time key, bringing Lu Yao along with the younger version of himself back to his childhood.

They opened their eyes and found themselves standing in a dark, narrow corridor.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️