MPWATMBC Chapter 83

The moon rose high, its light falling gently on the treetops. The oily green leaves were veiled in a silvery sheen. A soft breeze blew through, causing the leaves to rustle lightly, like elves whispering in the night, softly singing praises of the gentle wind, the bright moon, the sunlight, and the rain… The tall trees cast majestic shadows on the wall, standing like guardians protecting the people inside the house.

Suddenly, the curtain was lifted, and a slender hand pulled the window open slightly, allowing the indoor air to circulate. The owner of the hand turned around, and the curtain that had been lifted slipped from his shoulder, swaying gently and mingling with the tree shadows, stirring the serenity of a midnight dream… As long as they could sleep, that would be enough.

Tuantuan was teething, had a slight fever, and let out little whimpering noises of discomfort, yet his spirits were exceptionally high. At 11:30, he showed no sign of sleepiness. Sitting on the bed with his rabbit plushie, a cooling patch stuck to his forehead, his round, shiny eyes—dark, bright, and glistening slightly from the fever—looked at Daddy and Papa.

A small table was set up beside the large bed, and Ryan brought over two bowls of braised beef noodles. The air was filled with the rich aroma of the noodles. Without opening the windows to let the scent disperse, the smell became even more intense. At home, the beef was always served in large chunks. Ryan had only added soy sauce for color, green onion, ginger, and cooking wine to remove any odor, and salt and sugar to enhance the flavor. No additional seasonings were used because the beef itself was incredibly fresh and delicious. The cooked beef pieces were tender to the core and were placed on top of handmade pulled noodles, making it impossible not to feel one’s appetite stir just by looking at it.

This midnight snack was absolutely packed with nutrition, accompanied by fried eggs and blanched greens as side dishes.

Ryan called Auston, who was by the window, to sit down. “It’s best to eat it fresh out of the pot. The noodles won’t stay chewy if they sit too long.”

Auston sat at the table, glancing awkwardly at Tuantuan, who still showed no signs of sleepiness and, on the contrary, seemed even more energetic. “Tuantuan is watching.”

“He can’t eat it anyway.”

Tuantuan opened his little mouth, “Ah~” His eyes were fixed on the noodles in Daddy’s chopsticks—he wanted to eat them.

Ryan teased him, “How about Daddy lets you try a little taste, and then you go to sleep, okay?”

Tuantuan sniffed with his little nose. The delicious smell was making his mouth water. He stretched his neck forward and let out another “Ah~,” thinking Daddy would bring the noodles to his mouth. But after waiting for what felt like forever, he realized Daddy had put the noodles into his own mouth instead.

Ahhh!

Tuantuan kicked the bed with his little feet—he was so upset!

Auston was amused by Tuantuan’s reaction, but the worry in his eyes didn’t lessen one bit. “You eat first, I’ll try coaxing Tuantuan. Maybe this time he’ll fall asleep.”

“He won’t.” Ryan glanced helplessly at his son, whose eyes were still sparkling brightly.

The little troublemaker had been running a mild fever since 2 p.m., with his temperature fluctuating up and down. The family doctor had been called in and simply said the fever was caused by teething. He advised plenty of rest and good nutrition, assuring them that this phase would pass on its own. No injections or medicine were needed—Tuantuan’s natural immune system was strong enough to handle it. In fact, giving medication could hinder his development.

Despite the doctor’s words, Ryan and Auston, both first-time fathers still learning how to parent, couldn’t help but feel anxious. These two men, usually as steady as a mountain on the battlefield, were completely at a loss when it came to their child. They took turns soothing him—standing, sitting, lying down, even walking around the yard—all in an effort to get their little one to sleep so he could properly recover.

At first, Tuantuan had been quite cooperative. After napping for two hours in the afternoon, he woke up, drank some milk, and was coaxed to try sleeping again—but it didn’t work. His watery eyes pleaded for cuddles, hugs, and his little rabbit plushie… And then, there was the current situation. Hugging his plushie, Tuantuan sat on the bed looking pitifully at Daddy and Papa eating their noodles, feeling incredibly sad.

But as for sleeping… sleeping was absolutely impossible!

Ryan and Auston had already prepared themselves for a prolonged “battle,” eating a late-night snack to boost their stamina for the challenge.

Auston sighed. “You’re right. If coaxing him to sleep actually worked, we wouldn’t be eating noodles right now.”

“Just eat first. Once we finish, he won’t keep watching us.”

Auston thought there was some logic to that. He picked up his chopsticks and lifted some noodles…

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Tuantuan was in a panic. How could they eat without including him? Furious, he threw his little rabbit plushie aside. Pressing his tiny hands against the bed, he stuck his little bottom in the air and worked hard to crawl over to Papa on all fours, like a little four-legged creature. Forget about Daddy! If Papa wasn’t going to share noodles with him, then hmph!

Auston and Ryan exchanged a glance. Neither of them moved, choosing to sit still and observe what the little one would do next. Tuantuan let out a few soft whimpers, tilting his head pitifully to look at Papa. But Papa didn’t come to pick him up, which made him puff up his little cheeks in frustration. He reached out and held onto Papa’s arm, softly calling out, “Ah ah…” trying to get his attention.

Auston’s hand hovered gently under the child, and he asked in a gentle voice, “What does Tuantuan want to do?”

“Yiya!” Eat noodles.

If Auston could understand baby talk, he would know just how determined his little one was when it came to food. Unfortunately, adults lose that skill as they grow up, so the language barrier left him smiling as he said, “Could it be that you’re hungry? How about we have some milk?”

Tuantuan was so anxious—why didn’t Papa understand him? Inheriting his fathers’ decisiveness, he immediately took action, lunging toward Papa’s arms. Auston, with sharp eyes and quick reflexes, caught him just in time. Only after securing the little one did he let out a breath of relief. “That was close. This kid jumps without warning!”

On the other side of the table, Ryan, whose bowl of noodles was already more than halfway finished, felt a bit sour and “complained” to Auston: “He doesn’t even jump to me.”

“Yiya!” Finally seated in Papa’s arms, Tuantuan was thrilled to be one step closer to the bowl of noodles. He squinted his eyes happily and reached out his little hand to grab it, only to watch helplessly as the bowl moved farther and farther away… He was being lifted up by Papa!

“Ahhh!” Tuantuan smacked Papa’s arm with his tiny hands, kicking his little feet in protest. He was completely restless—he wanted to sit back down!

Auston originally planned to hand the child over to Ryan, but the little one refused to cooperate, so he gave up and sat back down. Looking at Tuantuan’s bright, sparkling eyes and energetic demeanor, Auston wondered aloud, “Is this really how a feverish child is supposed to act?”

“Our Tuantuan is one of a kind.” Ryan sped up, finishing the rest of his noodles in no time. He picked up the bowl and drank all the broth in one gulp. The broth, made from a clear beef bone stock, was already delicious with just a pinch of salt and some chopped green onions, let alone with the added flavor of braised beef—there was no way it was going to waste. After wiping his mouth clean with a napkin, Ryan stood up and walked over to take Tuantuan from Auston’s arms.

At that moment, Tuantuan was completely focused on the bowl of noodles. The distinct aroma, so different from the scent of formula, had captivated him entirely. He didn’t even notice whose arms he was in. But as soon as he realized that the bowl was moving farther away from him again, Tuantuan let out a little whimper. His face darkened with a “cold” expression—he was angry!

The two dads suddenly realized that perhaps their son was genuinely interested in the noodles—it wasn’t just a misunderstanding on their part.

“Let me try.” Now free to eat, Auston picked up a strand of noodles with his chopsticks and noticed that Tuantuan, fixated on the noodle, opened his little mouth expectantly.

Auston couldn’t help but laugh. “So it’s true. He really is a little foodie.”

“You can’t eat this right now,” Ryan said, reaching out to touch Tuantuan’s little mouth, feeling the drool there. “Grow your teeth first.”

Tuantuan stuck out his tongue, making a slurping sound with his saliva.

Both Ryan and Auston couldn’t help but laugh. Their little foodie was just too adorable.

To soothe the child, Auston came up with an idea. After eating a bite of noodles himself, he would bring the chopsticks close to Tuantuan’s mouth. Tuantuan would open his mouth wide, ready to take a bite, and chomp down with a little “aww-ooh,” but he didn’t realize that Daddy’s hand was faster than his tiny mouth. His small lips would close on empty air, and he would move his mouth as if chewing, but all he tasted was the lingering aroma in the air. Still, it seemed like he knew.

Clearly, the longest road a child walks is the one paved by their parents’ tricks.

By the time Auston finished eating, Tuantuan still hadn’t figured out what had happened.

For now, this trick worked, but once Tuantuan started eating solid food and learned what it felt like to chew with teeth, this little trick definitely wouldn’t fool him anymore.

“In the future, we’ll need to be more careful when eating barbecue or hot pot,” Ryan concluded.

Auston dipped his chopsticks into the noodle soup and lightly touched them to Tuantuan’s little mouth. “Poor thing, you sat through a whole bowl of noodles with me but didn’t get to eat anything. Here, Tuantuan, just have a taste. Once you’ve tried it, we’ll go to sleep.”

The spot where the chopsticks touched made Tuantuan let out an “Oh!” in surprise. He stuck out his soft, pink tongue to lick it, and his reaction was as though he’d discovered something heavenly! Flavor—this was flavor! What was this sensation?! Tuantuan held his astonished expression, his little tongue darting out now and then to savor every bit of taste left on his lips. He didn’t stop until the flavor was entirely gone.

If any elders had been present, they probably would have had a good talk with Auston and Ryan, reminding them that once a child tastes such flavors, convincing them to go back to drinking milk might be a challenge. After all, milk’s taste couldn’t compare to beef noodle soup. But with no elders around, Ryan and Auston were free to experiment with parenting their own way. As long as it was within the doctor’s recommendations, they weren’t overly concerned about the little details.

“Tomorrow’s public trial—are you going?” Auston asked Ryan.

The “Stark Case Reversal” event, spanning from seven hundred years ago to the present day, was like pulling a thread from a tangled ball of yarn. Grasping the “thread” and pulling upwards, more and more things were revealed, leading to an increasing number of members in the special task force. The drawn personnel came from many departments, no longer limited to public security, judiciary, and law enforcement, but also included finance, education, and so on. The things uncovered in the investigation were snowballing, growing larger and larger. It was no longer something that a family or individual could intervene in to avoid being caught up in the disaster.

Auston admitted that he had once played a part in stirring the situation, subtly guiding the direction of the investigation. He also knew he was not the only one doing this. Seeing that the situation was taking a turn for the worse, he had wisely withdrawn. Looking back, that was definitely the right choice. How many people who didn’t withdraw in time had already become the wreckage in this political avalanche, from top to bottom?

Maybe some realized it, maybe others never even thought about it. What they witnessed, participated in, or facilitated was not just the “Stark Case Reversal” but a massive transformation of the empire’s political system—a top-to-bottom upheaval. By the time things had developed to this point, they were no longer under control. All they could do was watch the situation change, uncertain whether it would move in a positive or negative direction, and unsure of the impact it would have on the entire country. At present, no one could say for sure.

One could only say one thing: it’s all in human hands.

In the torrent of history, all beings are but ants.

Tomorrow is the public trial day of the “Stark Case Reversal,” marking the conclusion of this case. But this does not mean that the series of shocks triggered by this event will end.

Ryan, holding his son’s hand, lowered his eyes and said, “I won’t go. There’s still a lot to do at the research institute. Even if I’m not at the scene, I can still get real-time updates on the process and results. It’s the same.”

“Actually, it feels kind of meaningless. Somewhat… hmm, uninspired.”

The awaited outcome is about to arrive, unraveling the truth from seven hundred years ago, clearing the Tyrell family of the false accusation of betrayal after more than seven hundred years, removing the charges of treason from Qin Hao and tax evasion from Antonio Stark, and exposing the true traitors to the public. This is the result Auston had wanted, but upon actually reaching this outcome, he didn’t feel the joy he had imagined at the start. Instead, he felt a sense of dullness.

Ryan reached out his hand toward Auston.

Auston: “Hmm?”

Ryan’s hand moved slightly, signaling Auston to extend his hand and place it on his. After they clasped hands, Ryan said, “Can you feel my body temperature?”

Ryan’s palm was dry, warm, and strong. Auston could feel it, and the heaviness pressing on his heart suddenly vanished. He suddenly understood—because he had already achieved the greatest “fruit of victory.” Everything else was just adding to that victory, a mere embellishment.

“I won’t go tomorrow either.”

Ryan: “Okay.”

Auston looked at the sleeping Tuantuan in Ryan’s arms, not sure when the child had fallen asleep. “Tuantuan isn’t feeling well. I’ll stay at home with him. Right now, I’m in vacation mode, and I don’t have to worry too much about outside matters.”

“Exactly!” Ryan agreed. If it weren’t for his duties, he too would be on vacation.

…

Tuantuan had fallen asleep, and his two dads, who had stayed up for him, carefully washed up before lying down and falling into a deep and sweet sleep.

The next day, Auston stayed home with the child, while Ryan took a small starship to the Imperial Mecha Research Center located in Adam City to continue overseeing the beast-type mecha project. As he walked from the docking area to the research center’s entrance, he noticed an unusual scene: typically, people hurried in and out without pause, but today, a crowd had gathered at the entrance. Ryan didn’t disturb them and quietly sidled through the group. Before long, he had pieced together the situation.

Shortly before his arrival, an ambulance had left, carrying Sierra Bromfield. The researcher, who had been obsessively studying neural control system schematics and related theories, hadn’t left the lab for an entire week. He subsisted on a couple of biscuits when hungry, sipped bottled water when thirsty, and averaged less than three hours of sleep a day. His relentless focus on uncovering the neural control system’s core secrets had consumed him. It wasn’t until Sierra collapsed from exhaustion at the control station today that anyone realized just how extreme his behavior had become.

Ryan had specifically invited his teacher to join the five-hundred-unit beast mecha production project as Sierra’s assistant, offering the proud researcher an invaluable opportunity to learn. However, judging from the murmurs of the crowd, Sierra had completely ignored the gesture. Not once had he approached the teacher for advice or guidance on the neural control system’s core secrets. Instead, he stubbornly chose to tackle everything alone.

No matter how talented someone is, when faced with a completely unfamiliar field, it’s extremely difficult to grasp the key knowledge in a short time. Moreover, since Sierra refused to ask for help and relied solely on himself, it was inevitable that he would exhaust his energy and eventually collapse.

Ryan shook his head, feeling somewhat helpless: “Too arrogant. He’s only making himself suffer.” For the research institute, losing someone like him, who contributed little to nothing, wasn’t much of a loss.

“I think Sierra has gone mad.”

“…You’re just realizing that now? I’ve thought so for a long time.”

“Yeah, his mental state is deteriorating. The craziness he had before was at least tinged with some genius aura, but now it’s just on the brink of a breakdown.”

“Remember what he used to say? He claimed his life had to be flawless—whether in career or in marriage, even his partner had to be the best.”

“And look where he ended up—he went to the Xingtian Ship, didn’t he…”

As soon as these words were spoken, the crowd fell silent for a few seconds. The Xingtian Ship, that place so inconsistent with Sierra’s “perfect” image, always carried an undercurrent of scorn and pity in conversations about it. It was as though it marked the beginning of Sierra’s fall from his self-proclaimed height, becoming the source of countless backhanded remarks.

Ryan listened to these discussions without saying a word. He understood Sierra’s predicament, but he also knew that Sierra had never truly faced his own limitations and failures. Talent might give someone a higher starting point, but without humility and a willingness to learn, they would inevitably encounter setbacks.

“Don’t let the Director hear this. We’re gossiping about his spouse and his rival in love! I still remember when Admiral Dalton visited the research institute, Sierra actually took the initiative to approach him. Later, he even requested to go to the Xingtian Ship to serve as Admiral Dalton’s exclusive mecha engineer. Just between us, do you think Sierra really loves Admiral Dalton?”

Ryan, who was about to leave, paused in his steps and slightly perked up his ears.

“I don’t think he does. I worked on one of Sierra’s projects before, and he’s pretty obsessive. He doesn’t hold anyone in regard except himself. I think the person Sierra loves most is himself.”

“Uh…you’ve got a point.”

Ryan nodded, turned, and walked into the research center without disturbing anyone. Behind him, someone subconsciously glanced toward the entrance, rubbed their eyes, and muttered, “Was that the Director walking away? It seemed like it…but also not… Let’s hope it wasn’t him. If he heard what we were just saying…”

“The Director isn’t a petty person, right? He wouldn’t get mad if he heard it, would he?”

Rest assured, Ryan truly is magnanimous. He wouldn’t get upset over something like this. After all, Sierra was never his rival—Sierra didn’t even have the qualifications to be one.

Sitting in his office, Ryan thanked the secretary who brought in the coffee. After tapping his fingers on the desk twice, he pressed the external communication button on the desk and said to the secretary outside, “Have Stephen Anthony come to my office.”

“Understood, Director.”

In the time it took for a cup of coffee to cool slightly, there was a knock on Ryan’s office door. After he called out for the person to enter, the door opened, and a burly middle-aged man with a ring of graying beard on his face walked in. He was a student of Master McAryan—half an apprentice, so to speak. By the hierarchy of mentorship, Ryan was technically required to address him as “Senior Brother.” Ryan nodded slightly, gesturing for Anthony to sit before him. “Take a seat.”

Anthony came from an ordinary family. Though talented, he had little opportunity to rise during the era of technical monopolies. Thus, he chose to align himself with the Bromfield family. Later, when that family fell into disgrace, he provided evidence to trample his benefactors further. This man was Sierra’s teacher, but during the teaching process, he acted more like a servant. That he would make such choices was understandable, though he was certainly not someone Ryan would ever genuinely wish to associate with.

Gentlemen have their roles, and so do petty men. Employing someone is one thing; befriending them is another entirely. Ryan smiled as he looked at Anthony. “The steady progress of the Mechanical Mecha Project is largely thanks to you.”

“As the deputy leader of the project, it’s my duty,” Anthony replied. Throughout his career, he had frequently found himself serving as an assistant or subordinate to his own students. Perhaps at the beginning, he harbored some dissatisfaction and resentment, but after enough occurrences, he had grown indifferent.

He looked at Ryan, seated behind the desk. Ryan, the director responsible for all aspects of mecha technology at the research center, wasn’t even forty years old yet. Ryan had created numerous miracles and milestones in this industry, records that would likely remain unbroken for a long time. After all, geniuses are not uncommon, but geniuses who create history at such a young age are exceedingly rare.

Anthony felt no disdain for Ryan’s youth. On the contrary, he held deep admiration for him and, under Ryan’s calm and gentle gaze, even felt a sense of trepidation, as if Ryan could see through everything.

“There’s no need to overcomplicate things,” Ryan began. “Given Sierra’s current health condition, he’ll need time to recuperate and restore his strength.” With just one sentence, Ryan effectively granted Sierra unlimited leave. The research center offered excellent benefits, and if Sierra advocated for himself, it might even become paid leave. Ryan continued, “It’s truly unfortunate for the team that the project leader is unwell, but the work must go on. I wonder if you, Anthony, would be willing to take on this responsibility.”

“I…” Anthony wanted to modestly decline but, seeing Ryan’s smiling expression paired with eyes devoid of any warmth, the words he was about to say got stuck in his throat. After a quick mental reshuffle, he changed his reply, saying, “I’m willing. It’s my duty.”

“That’s good to hear. I’ll inform the higher-ups and request an official transfer order.”

“Mm, mm,” Anthony responded. Faced with Ryan’s straightforward demeanor, he had no choice but to give in and simply say, “Thank you.”

In the past, dealing with roundabout approaches and drawn-out processes was common, leading to much unnecessary effort. Now, Ryan’s direct and efficient style—decisive and commanding—had significantly influenced the team working on the beast-type mecha project.

After Anthony left, Ryan withdrew his gaze, picked up a stack of documents from the side, and began flipping through them. As he reviewed them, his mind occasionally wandered to the progress of the beast-type mecha project and areas that required adjustments. Surprisingly, he seemed entirely unconcerned about the ongoing public trial taking place at the court in Eve City.

This was about overturning a case from the time of Qin Feng Anderson, uncovering the truth of that era. Its biggest connection to Ryan Smith lay in the series of policy reforms that would follow, as these changes would impact every aspect of daily life.

When deeply immersed in work, time passes particularly quickly. By the time Ryan opened his personal terminal to check the news, it was already 3 p.m., during his afternoon tea break. The tea break was quite simple: a cup of cold brew coffee, a brownie, and a slice of red velvet cake topped with cherry sauce. Though a bit on the sweet side, it paired perfectly with the three-sugar-level coffee.

The headline news plastered across the news site was all about the public trial that had just concluded. A case from 700 years ago had been overturned, restoring the truth of that time. While no sentences could be passed on the deceased, for those who had passed away, the greatest justice was the restoration of their reputation. Their descendants would at least find some solace in this.

The public trial not only addressed the overturned case but also examined the crimes committed by the contemporary Gustav family against the Empire. The trial of this family was carried out under immense pressure, and the final verdict could only be described as acceptable. The former Prime Minister was sentenced to prison, and many individuals involved were removed from their positions.

“There’s another person who’s ‘invisible.'” Auston sent a message, referring to someone else in the old diode recording, apart from Gustav. This person completely disappeared during the case review, and no one even figured out who they were. They had hidden too well.

Ryan sent a voice message back, “‘A bird leaves a sound when it flies, a person leaves traces when they pass.’ Anyone who has acted will leave a mark. We will find that person.”

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Hello everyone!!! Thanks for your love and support. I am planning to update a chapter per day and I hope to stick to it. Stay tuned!!!