MPWATMBC Chapter 67

The original projection was adjusted, and out of seven or eight photos, only one remained. This remaining photo was centered, enlarged, and enhanced for clarity. In the photo, the man’s face showed signs of age, with a few white hairs at his temples. His eyes were light brown, with some red veins in the whites and dark circles from lack of sleep. He stood next to a rack with children’s clothes, looking slightly anxious, puzzled, and inquisitive in a direction—specifically, the direction where Auston and Ryan were standing. This was in the maternity and baby store downstairs from the Angela Maternity Center.

The man’s features bore some resemblance to Auston, but he lacked many of the characteristic traits of the Dalton men—decisiveness, sternness, and calmness. His expression lacked the confidence and lack of hesitation typical of the Dalton family. He wore a simple indigo jacket and ordinary jeans, looking unremarkable. He carried a sketchpad and a canvas bag on his wrist, with a few long paintbrushes poking out. From Ryan’s judgment, he appeared to be an artist from a modest background—hesitant and timid, possibly feeling underappreciated and harboring some cynicism towards the world. He didn’t look like someone from the iron-blooded Dalton family.

Auston would not mistake him; this down-and-out artist was indeed his uncle, Beavis Dalton.

“Uncle pursued art and fell out with Grandpa for some reason when he was young. Later, he left home and even got married and had children without telling the family.” Auston’s lips curled into a wry smile as he shook his head. “After I was born, he resumed contact with our family and would come to stay at the old house during holidays. But due to differing views from my father, they always ended up arguing.”

Auston took after his father in his personality, being the type who scorned verbal disputes. It would be more accurate to say that the disagreements were one-sided, with Uncle doing most of the arguing.

“Due to personality conflicts, Uncle severed ties with our family for several years, and later, every time we met, it seemed to be accompanied by some trouble happening in our family.” Many relatives stood in the funeral hall, coldly watching his pain, including his own uncle! Auston’s impression of relatives was always one of gray, greedy detachment until he went to Ryan’s family and discovered that relatives and friends could genuinely be happy for his good news, and offer comfort when he was feeling down… This is when his impression of relatives improved.

Auston never spoke about his own family unless asked. To him, the other Daltons were just strangers connected by blood. He still remembered when they first met, Auston viewed marriage merely as a means for procreation, and lovemaking as part of the process of having children, with Ryan being a legal partner in this arrangement. Ryan had felt somewhat wronged by this, as experiencing love, marriage, and intimacy at his age wasn’t easy.

Ryan glanced at the original projection, waved his hand to turn it off, and went to the cockpit with Code Zero. He took Auston’s hand and led him to a seat by the window. Outside, skyscrapers flew by quickly, and an endless stream of cars passed in an instant. Ryan poured a cup of hot water and placed it beside Auston. Not wanting to burden Auston, Ryan nonchalantly said, “Don’t worry about people you don’t like. That man must have run into us and became curious about who I am and why you went back to the maternity store, so he followed us out of curiosity.”

Auston had disguised himself, changing his dressing style to wear brightly colored shirts and white casual pants. Even familiar people would find it difficult to recognize him, unless they were particularly knowledgeable about him—studying his gait, silhouette, arm movement, and so on. It was clear that this uncle had paid special attention.

For what reason? What was his purpose?

Was it just the artist’s intuition, or was there another motive?

Ryan’s expression remained unchanged as he quietly waited for Austin to speak. In his mind, he was meticulously analyzing. The look he had just given to Yuan Chu—that guy should have understood. After all, they had been old comrades for many years. Now, he should be investigating Beavis Dalton’s current situation to see what this man was after.

There is an old saying in China: “Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles.” When dealing with difficult relatives, understanding their needs and grasping their weaknesses can prevent them from causing trouble. Ryan, having been in a high position for many years, had encountered both straightforward and deceitful situations. He had used grand tactics as well as small deceptions. He believed in being decisive and thorough in dealing with enemies. For troublesome relatives, he had similar methods, though they would be somewhat gentler and more lenient. However, if they harmed Auston, he wouldn’t hesitate to be ruthless.

The steam from the hot water gently warmed Auston’s eyes, softening his expression. Relaxing, he looked out the window and found that the often-overlooked scenery had taken on a different charm. The car was moving fast, and in no time, they reached the Eastern District, less than five minutes from home. Suddenly, he spoke up, “Yuan Chu, Ryan and I will get out here. You guys can head back first. We’ll walk for a bit.” The last part was directed at Ryan. Auston mimicked a gesture he had seen before, winking at Ryan as if to say: “Agree with my plan, okay?”

Since they met, this was the first time Auston had shown such a naive and endearing side. Not only did he want to take a walk, but if Ryan were to ask him to pluck the moon from the sky, he would have used a mecha to smash the asteroids outside Capital Star… After all, Capital Star’s night sky has three moons; losing one wouldn’t make much difference = =.

The car slowed down, hovering above a transparent membrane. With a buzzing sound, a gap opened in the membrane, and the small starship’s hatch opened and lowered its boarding ladder. Ryan and Auston descended together, followed by the excited Da Fu. Next to Da Fu walked the Yuan Chu, who was assigned to protect the general and carried out the task with meticulous attention.

The small starship was piloted back by Code Zero, whose small body had no combat functions and could only leave feeling aggrieved.

Standing on the boarding ladder, it was retracted, and the transparent membrane made a short buzzing sound before slowly closing. The closed membrane flickered like a malfunctioning TV screen for a second or two before returning to normal, showing the blue sky and white clouds. It was rather ironic that the image displayed by the membrane wasn’t the real sky but a filtered version created through technology, filtering out everything real.

The boarding ladder was a temporary descent point, spiraling down five floors. There was an option to take the elevator or walk down the stairs. Tall trees were planted beside the ladder, blooming with flowers resembling magnolias. Flower beds lined the stair railings, adorned with small purple or blue flowers. Ryan and Auston chose to walk, with Yuan Chu following behind and Da Fu darting around busily.

As they descended the ladder, Auston tried to find his bearings. He felt a moment of disorientation in the unfamiliar yet familiar neighborhood. How long had it been since he had walked the streets of the Eastern District? In the past, even during breaks and after returning home, work had never ceased. Busy schedules had filled his life, leaving no time or mood to enjoy the surroundings. Slowing down, he realized how beautiful the Eastern District streets were.

The streets were not wide, lined with camphor trees as street trees. Between the trees stood uniquely designed street lamps that resembled birds in flight. On both sides of the street were various houses, ranging from large to small. The larger ones covered several acres, with walls so high that no buildings were visible beyond them; the smaller ones were charming and compact, consisting of a villa and a small courtyard.

Preferences varied among households. Some kept their walls clean and painted white, while others allowed plants to climb up, such as roses, wisteria, and evening primroses. The blooming flowers belied the fact that Eve City had already entered autumn. As Ryan and Auston turned a corner, a tall wisteria in the center of the street caught their eyes. The cascading wisteria flowers looked like a waterfall, and with the gentle breeze, the flowers swayed, creating a beautiful, undulating sea of blooms that was mesmerizing.

A few large blue butterflies fluttered close to the purple wisteria, their gently waving wings shimmering with a bright blue hue under the sunlight.

Da Fu, curious, approached and placed its front paws on the tree trunk, gazing up at the hanging wisteria flowers. The delicate fragrance of the wisteria made its nose itch, causing it to shake its head back and forth. Suddenly, one of the large blue butterflies flew close to Da Fu and, in its gaze, landed on the tip of its nose.

“Achoo~”

Disturbed by the butterfly, Da Fu couldn’t help but sneeze. The force of the sneeze sent it rolling backward. The white little creature stood up, shyly raising its paws to cover its eyes. After a while, it scampered back to its master’s feet, acting as if the embarrassing incident had never happened.

The clouds that had overshadowed Auston’s heart dissipated completely. He spoke more easily about his initial obsession with having children, saying, “Great-great-grandfather left a few instructions. One you already know is not to abandon the old house. The second is that if the head of the family inherits the old house and reaches fifty without having children, they must choose the best heir among the relatives to adopt, ensuring the family bloodline is not interrupted. The third instruction…”

Great-great-grandfather left behind five instructions regarding family development and succession. The other three are not particularly relevant here. By the time Auston was successfully matched, he was already forty. Before he reached fifty, his relatives were impatient and actively tried to push their own children onto him, aiming directly at everything under Auston’s name. After all, they were from the Dalton family and using others, being used by others caused Auston a lot of trouble, and he was even more enraged by their threats of using inheritance laws to coerce him.

When the great-great-grandfather’s family instructions were registered with the Supreme Court, they were valid for a thousand years. During this period, all members of the Dalton family had to comply. Violators wouldn’t get a penny from the family fund, and the requirements for the head of the family were even stricter. For instance, not adopting a child would temporarily freeze all assets and suspend duties.

“You now understand why I was so eager to have a child,” Auston said, gazing at the not-quite-real sky. The transparent membrane only showed the beautiful side of things, filtering out the haze floating in the sky. “It’s not about wealth.”

“I know.” Auston truly had no material needs; he never cared about how well he was dressed or what he ate. He could get by with dining in the cafeteria and wearing military uniforms year-round.

“I don’t want everything that my parents and grandparents worked so hard for to fall into the hands of those who don’t understand it.” A fierce glint flashed in Auston’s eyes. He knew how many hands were pushing behind the scenes for the few troublesome relatives who constantly appeared before him. He wasn’t a fool; he knew! It was just that they were taking advantage of his relative youth and weakness. He gritted his teeth and stood firm, unwilling to let those behind the scenes have their way, often fighting back. The descendants of the Dalton family were no cowards.

The weakness of the main branch had long been one of the reasons outsiders perceived the Dalton family as lacking strength. Internal discord only made it seem even more vulnerable.

“But now I’m here.”

Dalton looked at Ryan, who smiled and said, “In the future, the main branch won’t be short of people or strength. After all, he’s the elder brother and needs to set a good example for his younger siblings.” Ryan gently patted Auston’s belly, and with a quick exchange of words, passed a series of tasks onto the yet-to-be-born child. The future was theirs; the old folks would eventually return to E69 to farm and raise cattle, occasionally sending local specialties and photos to the kids. It was a pleasant thought.

Auston smiled, “But we can’t put too much pressure on the child.”

“You should think of it this way: he’s our child, so he’s going to be very resilient,” Ryan replied.

Auston countered, “That doesn’t mean we should give him too much to bear. I might have no choice, but I hope my child can have a happy childhood and adolescence,” not one spent under heavy academic and training pressures.

Ryan: “…” He suddenly felt that educating their child would be a major task. “You’re right.” Auston would handle the big picture, and Ryan would take care of the finer details.

Walking was a delightful experience, especially when strolling side by side with someone you love. The gentle breeze carried the fragrance of flowers, and the warm sunlight, filtering through layers of leaves, occasionally danced on their skin, creating a quiet afternoon of small joys.

Auston said, “I used to not understand why great-great-grandfather left behind these instructions.”

“Do you understand now?”

“I do.” Auston looked at Ryan and said, “For the sake of old friends.” For the truth from seven hundred years ago, and for the descendants of the Qin family to one day find this place and ensure fairness for the world.

• ··

At 8:50 AM in Adam City on Capital Star, a tall and poised man stood outside the Imperial Mecha Research Institute next to the university district. He looked to be about thirty years old, with a gentle face and a refined demeanor, smiling and appearing very approachable. This man was Ryan, arriving punctually for his appointment.

The research institute was not a tall building; nestled among the trees, it stood only three stories high. Compared to the surrounding buildings, which were easily thirty or forty stories tall, it seemed like the great-grandson of a skyscraper, working to earn pocket money before it even turned a month old. Despite its low height, the building occupied a large area. Ryan had checked, and the official data released to the public indicated that it covered over six thousand square meters, with more than fifty research projects ongoing inside

These fifty or so projects referred to the major projects, each with numerous sub-projects, covering a wide range of disciplines. Therefore, those fortunate enough to work at the Imperial Mecha Research Institute were not limited to mecha-related specialties but also included fields like materials science, AI programming, human anatomy, and more.

All the specialties ultimately serve the purpose of mecha manufacturing, so within this research institute, those specialized in mechas are considered the most prestigious.

Whether it’s mecha design, mecha maintenance, mecha manufacturing, or mecha application studies, researchers with “mecha” in their titles walk with an aura of distinction.

Everyone is eager to join this institute, not only because of the high income and generous benefits, but also because entering here signifies honor and social status.

Now, Ryan stood at the entrance of the Imperial Mecha Research Institute, ten to fifteen years ahead of his planned timeline.

“Ryan Smith…” The guard at the institute wasn’t just any ordinary doorman, but a member of the imperial capital’s military, with the authority to detect threats and shoot on sight. The tall Black guard held a gun in one hand and operated a screen with the other. His posture seemed relaxed, and the guards at the entrance appeared sparse, but Ryan could tell that the apparent laxity masked a tight security—anyone who thought this place was easy to breach would be met with a barrage of bullets.

Upon seeing the access badge number displayed on the screen, the guard’s demeanor changed abruptly. He scrutinized Ryan carefully, saying, “You’re a guest of Master McAryan. After entering, a robot will guide you. Within the research institute, you’ll have unrestricted access to all areas except for some Level 0 zones.”

The institute is divided into six levels based on importance: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5, with lower numbers indicating higher security.

Ryan, traveling light with only a backpack, nodded and said, “Thank you.”

The guard, now quite warm and accommodating, said, “You could have shown me your access badge directly; there was no need to take so much time. There’s a row of robots by the door. Just set your access badge to the homepage of your personal terminal and scan it with the robot. It will provide you with thorough service.”

Ryan expressed his thanks again, “Thank you.”

The guard, intrigued, observed Ryan with curiosity. A young man so composed was unusual; he wondered if Ryan might be a tech expert who had undergone gene rejuvenation. If one could afford it, gene-based cosmetic surgery was now available. The desire for beauty is a timeless human pursuit.

“Then I won’t keep you any longer. Please, go in.”

Ryan, once again thanking the guard, stepped forward. He had once personally thanked over a thousand soldiers who had fought in a battle, his facial expressions and emotions always as steady as a rock.

As he watched Ryan’s diminishing figure, the black guard couldn’t help but speculate about who this impressive person might be. Receiving a personal invitation from Master McAryan was extraordinary. The guard had never seen an unclassified access badge before; he had thought such badges were merely legends passed among colleagues. Now, he had witnessed one and had become part of the legend.

For instance, in the distant future, when people spoke of the great Ryan, they might recall that the guard who first greeted him at the mecha research institute was XXX.

This was something far off in the future. The black guard couldn’t have imagined the greatness of the person he was receiving, nor could Ryan foresee that he would achieve even greater things.

Ryan scanned a robot at the entrance. The robot was cylindrical, and the design seemed to be inspired by the Star Wars series from ancient Earth, resembling the droids from those films. Guided by the robot, Ryan entered the gray hexagonal building, which was colloquially known as the Hexagon Tower.

“Good morning, Ryan.” The voice of Master McAryan came from the robot.

“Good morning, Gauss,” Ryan replied.

The moment Ryan entered the building with access badge number 003, Gauss McAryan’s personal terminal received a notification that his invited guest had arrived.

“I’m very much looking forward to meeting you. I’m currently in Laboratory C-1-003, waiting for you.”

“Just a moment, I’m passing through the isolation doors in Area A and will be there shortly.”

The Hexagon Tower is divided into seven zones, each corresponding to a letter of the alphabet: A through F, and the central O, likely because O suits the central position best.

The various zones of the building serve different functions, with isolation doors separating each area. Along the way, Ryan encountered many staff members hurrying along with serious expressions and numerous types of robots moving with similar efficiency. It’s been said that the brisk pace of staff can reflect the operational status and vibrancy of a place (not something Qin Feng Anderson would say), and by this standard, the Imperial Mecha Research Institute undoubtedly stands out as the best.

Passing through Zone B, which is primarily used for external displays, Ryan saw numerous glass showcases embedded in the corridor, displaying various mecha parts, including those with traces of battle, still marked by the smoke of gunfire and the scars of Zerg attacks.

Ryan was intrigued but did not linger. He had higher-priority, top-secret laboratories awaiting him. Guided by the robot, Ryan arrived at the entrance to Laboratory C-1-003 on the third underground level of Zone C after twenty minutes. As expected, the research institute was not as simple as it appeared on the surface. The three-story above-ground structure was merely the tip of the iceberg; the space below ground was much larger, deeper, and concealed even more secrets.

The gray door of Laboratory 1-003 opened before Ryan, revealing not the laboratory itself, but a changing room. The robot, with a slightly childish synthetic voice, said, “Mr. Smith, static electricity is not allowed in the laboratory. Please change into the lab coat here. There are new clothes in the wardrobe on the wall. Just step on the air valve in the corner, and the cabinet doors will automatically pop open. You needn’t worry about your privacy being compromised; I will remain in standby mode during your change. The changing room has no surveillance equipment. After you finish changing, you can wake me up by tapping me gently. Be careful, Little Six might feel it.”

The robot even managed to sound a bit cute.

“Please place your clothing and belongings in the cabinet after changing. We will safeguard all valuable items you have brought.”

The childlike tone was endearing. Ryan even considered making a cute, playful nanny robot for his future child, with such a voice, and perhaps have Yuan Chu enter it.

The lab coat was a light blue, with excellent texture, rivaling any high-end fabric. The extravagant touch was that the coat was disposable. Ryan marveled at the wealth of the “Empire”—their budget was indeed substantial. If he had had such equipment back then, not only would he have been able to create Yuan Chu, but he could have made a second Yuan Chu as well.

Leaving the past behind, Ryan changed into the lab coat and tapped the cylindrical robot on its head to activate it. The robot’s obedient, childish voice resumed, “Hello, Mr. Smith. Little Six is very happy to serve you again. After changing into the lab coat, you can proceed through the next door, where you will undergo a brief surface cleaning that takes about twenty seconds. After that, you can officially enter the laboratory. Little Six will stay here and wait for your return. Remember to wake me up, Little Six looks forward to continuing to serve you.”

“Thank you, Little Six.”

The robot Little Six’s indicator light flashed briefly. “You’re welcome.” Just as it seemed the interaction was over, the light on Little Six’s head blinked twice, and it added, “Mr. Smith is the first person to say thank you to Little Six. Little Six is very happy. Thank you.”

After this, Little Six moved to the wall and joined a group of similar robots, entering standby mode with its headlamp glowing red. Ryan gave Little Six a thoughtful glance. He did not linger and turned to the next door. Inside the cleaning room, he underwent a twenty-second surface cleaning, a gentle breeze enveloping him, with a scent reminiscent of desserts. Once the cleaning was complete, the door to the laboratory finally opened.

The massive laboratory, with its dark metal surfaces, came into view. It was approximately six hundred square meters and fifty meters high. The walls had irregular undulations and projections, which emitted a faint blue light. The entire high-tech and sci-fi appearance of the laboratory amazed Ryan, who felt like a country bumpkin seeing such advanced technology for the first time. He almost wanted to take a tacky photo with the wall to show Auston when he got home.

Ignoring the walls for now, Ryan began to explore what the room contained.

Three low experiment tables, each with a diameter of fifteen meters, occupied the laboratory. Two of the tables were empty, while the third held a partially assembled mecha standing over ten meters tall. The mecha was not humanoid in shape but resembled a wolf with its hind paws on the ground, suspended in mid-air. The wolf-shaped mecha was connected to countless disposable cables linked to various machines, with numerous researchers working on and around its feet and body. Among the crowd working underground was Master McAryan, surrounded by many researchers who were waiting for his instructions.

Ryan glanced at the crowd before focusing on the mecha. He had once written in his work notes that the shape of a mecha need not be confined to humanoid forms; beasts, with their unique characteristics, could provide more inspiration for mecha design due to their superior hunting skills compared to humans.

While inspiration was abundant, overcoming the synchronization issues with the pilot was a significant challenge.

Ryan felt a deep sense of satisfaction and joy, knowing that what Qin Feng Anderson had proposed over seven hundred years ago was finally being realized centuries later.

“Ryan.”

Ryan looked toward Master McAryan, who was surrounded by researchers and beckoning him over. Walking towards him, Ryan maintained an air of mystery in front of others and said, “Master McAryan.”

A smile flickered in Gauss McAryan’s eyes. “What do you think of the wolf-shaped mecha?”

“It’s quite breathtaking.” The sight of a wolf standing on its hind legs was too stunning, but Ryan was more than willing to take in as many views as needed for the sake of the mecha industry.

The surrounding researchers scrutinized Ryan, each of them speculating about who this young man, personally invited by Master McAryan, could be.

…

To use a widely applicable phrase, “each flower blooms in its own way,” while Ryan was exploring the secrets of the mecha research institute, Auston was at home enjoying a peaceful and leisurely time. With the child in his womb and Da Fu playing around his feet, he sat by the window, basking in the sunlight and reading a book. He felt that, although his body was heavier from the relaxation, his soul felt much lighter. It was surprisingly easy to put down his work and not dwell on so many concerns.

In just over two months, National Day will arrive, marked by a grand military parade. The Golden Crusade Legion’s selected soldiers will gradually arrive at the capital star’s parade camp a month later. Before the soldiers’ detailed training begins, the commanders need to set up the work in advance. After taking charge of the main tasks, Auston delegated the specifics to several deputy generals, who would handle the execution. He only needed to review some summary reports and occasionally visit the site during the training.

Life at home was very tranquil. The family members, now aware of their shortcomings, began to re-evaluate their young master, providing increasingly thoughtful care. Thanks to Ryan’s arrangements, the house was adorned with colorful flowers that were visually pleasing and free from strong odors. Laura and his daughter-in-law, making full use of their feminine advantages, added many cute and charming decorations that harmonized with the overall environment. There was a ceramic black cat with a tilted head on the edge of the flower stand, and a row of metal ornaments the size of plums hidden along the table edge… Even the seat cushions, upon closer inspection, had patterns of small green soldiers.

The changes in the home were noticeable, no longer dull and monotonous in black and white.

Auston always has a plate of strawberries by his side. The strawberry plants from E69 haven’t arrived yet, but the small strawberries from the capital star are quite good. They have a strong aroma, firm flesh, and are not easily bruised. Their sweet and tangy flavor makes them perfect for snacking, and it’s hard to stop at just one.

The chef’s skills in Chinese cuisine are modest and won’t be showcased here, but his expertise in Western cuisine is well-regarded. He baked a pound cake for Auston, dense and topped with a layer of honey and chopped strawberries, cut into slices. Paired with slightly bitter milk tea, it was absolutely delightful. For the main course, Auston requested pasta, and the chef prepared a pot of tomato meat sauce pasta with mushroom slices. The codfish fillets, pan-fried to a golden brown with a hint of herbs and garnished with white truffle, were a treat. There was also a creamy pumpkin corn vegetable soup with pink shrimp, sweet corn, purple sweet potato, and half a potato steamed. Sliced okra and eggs were stir-fried into a light, flavorful dish, with a touch of tomato sauce on the edges.

These dishes suited Auston’s tastes, differing from the traditional red wine steak and creamy soups.

Since learning about the pregnancy, the physical symptoms have become more noticeable. Auston has become quite drowsy, and after lunch, he could hardly keep his eyes open. He forced himself to stay up for twenty minutes before heading upstairs to sleep, cuddling with Ryan’s pillow. In his dreams, he was surrounded by Ryan’s scent.

Outside the Dalton family old residence, two men were jostling each other as they approached. About twenty to thirty meters behind them, a group of fourteen or fifteen people trudged along at a slow pace. The afternoon sun in Summer City was just right, making everyone feel drowsy. With no vehicles allowed on the ground, the crowd had no choice but to make their way slowly toward their destination.

The fastest of the two men was an elderly man with deep wrinkles and dyed hair that had started to turn white at the roots, indicating that he was definitely over 250 years old. Despite advances in anti-aging technology, humanity still couldn’t fully combat natural aging—wrinkles deepened, hair turned gray and fell out, teeth loosened, calcium was lost, and taste deteriorated. Technology could only do so much.

The other man, who had a slightly weathered appearance, with a few gray hairs at his temples, and eyes that were a light brown with dark circles, was Auston’s uncle, Beavis Dalton, whom Auston and Ryan had seen the day before.

“You’ve got all these kids running around, but you think such a small house can accommodate them all?” The elderly man pointed at the heavy, imposing yet plainly simple door of the old residence and said through gritted teeth, “Look at this! Look at it clearly. There’s more than ten acres of land here, and the house is huge. You can live here any way you want—no, everyone can live here. Don’t forget, we’re all Dalton family. My great-grandfather was General James Dalton’s youngest brother! And you, you’re Auston’s uncle, the eldest son of the previous generation. This house should have been yours to inherit. How did it end up in the hands of Auston, that inconsiderate and disrespectful brat!”

Beavis looked down at the ground as he spoke.

The elderly man sneered inwardly, dismissing the family’s incompetence and their failures. Though he felt disdain, his face showed a facade of righteous indignation and injustice. He clutched his chest and spoke with fervor, “How many times have I told you this? Countless times. The number is beyond reckoning. Yet you, you have done nothing. When Auston’s father—your dear brother—died, you weren’t like this. Where’s that ambition you had back then? Life now is far worse than it was then.”

“No, no,” Beavis said hesitantly, “I was young and blinded by wealth and power, made mistakes. I’ve already wronged Auston enough. Uncle, I won’t go. Nana and I are going back home.”

The elderly man’s frustration was palpable. After all the bluster, Beavis was retracting at the critical moment. “Oh, come on!”

“Don’t leave, you…” The old man nearly burst into curses but quickly adjusted his tone, “We’re already in such a miserable state. We’re also Dalton family; the main branch should treat us well. Auston is over forty now. Time flies. He’s approaching fifty and still doesn’t have a suitable partner. How can he have children without marrying? Even if he does marry, having children isn’t that simple. Remember General James Dalton’s last wishes? Without an heir by fifty, he will lose everything, and the glory of the Dalton family will fade. Can you bear to see that happen?”

The old man’s words were calculated to evoke a sense of urgency and guilt, appealing to the family’s honor and legacy.

“Uncle…”

“You must understand that everything you do now is for the future of the Dalton family,” the elderly man said, his tone persistent and persuasive. “You keep up with the news, so you know the current situation isn’t very promising for us. No other great family is as short on direct descendants as we are. Beavis, you have more children. Why not adopt one to Auston? If Auston can get out of his predicament, the family’s heir will have siblings to support him in the future. It’s a win-win situation.”

The old man’s words were calculated to appeal to Beavis’s sense of duty and family legacy, making it seem like a noble and practical solution to their current predicament.

“I……” Beavis hesitated, his voice faltering. He lacked the decisive nature of his father and had not inherited the characteristic black eyes of the Dalton family. From birth, he had been burdened with insecurity, unable to make firm decisions. Moreover, Beavis was easily swayed, and his self-doubt made him susceptible to persuasion.

“Just do as I say,” the elderly man said firmly, cutting off Beavis’s wavering. “We’re going in now. Think about it—your children are cramped in a sixty-square-meter house, and Nana, with her talent, can’t attend the Imperial Art Academy due to lack of resources. Moving into the old estate will solve these problems. Your children can live comfortably and achieve their dreams.”

Beavis lowered his head, remembering the time when his brother passed away. He had been persuaded by another family member to coerce the barely twenty-year-old Auston into submission, attempting to control the Dalton family and Auston’s life. The plan had failed miserably, and young Auston had deftly managed the family’s internal turmoil. Beavis had been nothing more than a pawn, manipulated by those with their own agendas. He had felt profound shame and had cut off contact with Auston, aware of his own role as a scapegoat. The scheming relative who had pushed him had disappeared from the family’s view.

Some say that person was eliminated by someone sent by Auston. Others say that person was banished to a remote planet to do hard labor for the rest of their life, never to rise again. Others say…

Regardless of the truth, Auston has demonstrated his ruthless methods, making any scheming clan members think twice before acting. Over the years, some could no longer restrain themselves and began to exploit James Dalton’s legacy for their own gain.

Beavis looked up at the grand door. In his youth, driven by impulse and defying his father’s opposition, he had devoted himself to the art world. He believed he would soon make a name for himself and achieve success. However, that did not happen. His father had been right; he lacked self-awareness and talent in painting. His work was full of craftsmanship but devoid of inspiration, the kind of art that could be found everywhere, and easily bought on the Star Net for just a few dozen star coins.

“Dad.”

With his arm around her, Beavis patted his daughter Nana’s hand. “Let’s go.”

The grand door of the Dalton family estate was pried open. The solemn gentleman Bowers received the group, offering them tea and refreshments with polite thoroughness, and turned on the holo-screen TV for their viewing. However, he did not mention inviting Auston down for a meeting. The old man was somewhat intimidated by Bowers, struggling to maintain an air of righteousness. In reality, he was nervously shouting, “The elders have arrived, why hasn’t Auston come yet? Has becoming an imperial general made him forget his roots and ignore his poor relatives? Haha… haha…” Under Bowers’ indifferent gaze, the old man’s words gradually faltered.

Bowers withdrew his gaze with satisfaction and said calmly, “Please wait a moment.” He turned and walked out.

It was still early, and there was no way to wake the general from his nap. The group would have to wait.

Waiting is the most draining of patience. Among the group, consisting of eight or nine adults and five or six children, many were losing their patience. Especially some of the younger children, who, influenced by their parents, had begun to see themselves as the masters of the house.