With the cool morning breeze carrying a hint of mist, the curtains gently swayed. From a distance, the sounds of roosters crowing and dogs barking faintly reached the room, but they were already muffled and difficult to distinguish. Ryan moved quietly, lifting the blanket and getting out of bed, his bare feet touching the floor. The person beside him was exhausted, so worn out that he, who was usually alert and sensitive, remained asleep.
Ryan tiptoed to the small cabinet against the wall, gently pulling open a drawer and taking out a simple and antique-looking ring. He had received this heirloom ring from his mother and had carefully preserved it. However, his mischievous younger brother had once stumbled upon it, and it accidentally fell into his sister’s chemistry experiment, melting a small portion of it. Finding an equally dense piece of Mithril1T/N: Mithril is a fictional metal found in J. R. R. Tolkien’s Middle-earth writings. It appears in many derivative fantasy works by later authors. It is described as resembling silver, but being stronger and lighter than steel was incredibly difficult, and it took him over a decade to restore it, enduring numerous setbacks. Once it was restored, he hid it in a compartment in the bookshelf, never to be discovered by mischievous family members again, not even by himself, because he had yet to meet someone worthy of wearing the ring.
The ring appeared plain and unpretentious when held in his hand, only a line of Chinese characters engraved on the inside: “In life and death, boundless oath; With you, a lifelong commitment. Holding your hand, growing old together.” When his mother gave it to him, she said, “When you find someone you love in the future, give this ring to him, and I will wish you happiness forever.”
As he clenched his hand tightly, the cold ring nestled in his palm. It had patiently awaited hundreds of years to return to its rightful place in his hand. It was time for it to fulfill its purpose. Ryan turned back to the bedside, sat down on the edge, and took Auston’s right hand. Holding the ring, he gestured over his finger and discovered that it fit perfectly, snugly sliding onto the ring finger. Although the Mithril he had obtained to restore it wasn’t enough, causing the ring to be slightly smaller than when his mother had given it to him, it fit just right for Auston.
Truly, it was fate.
With the ring in place, Ryan leaned down and kissed it, silently saying in his heart, ‘Mom, I’ve found him.’
Although it took him a while, he had finally found a partner with whom he could share life and death. Rest assured, Mom.
“Anderson is an old liar, only interested in playing mahjong,” Ryan chuckled self-deprecatingly. He reached out and gently tapped Auston’s slightly flushed cheek, which indicated he had slept deeply. “No idolizing him, got it!”
As a matter of course, Ryan received no response, because Auston was tossed about half the night by him and even with his incredible stamina, he couldn’t stay awake any longer, and could only sleep soundly until the sun was high in the sky.
Leaving a gentle kiss on Auston’s lips, Ryan tiptoed to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He then changed into a navy blue tracksuit and pushed open the door to go for his morning exercise. He had grown accustomed to physical training, maintaining his body in the best possible condition had become an ingrained habit rooted in his soul. Sometimes he felt the temptation to be lazy and just let go, to enjoy life with ease, to observe the beauty of life, the rising and setting of the sun, the ever-changing clouds. It was a life he couldn’t have imagined in the past.
However, the inertia of life prevented him from slacking off. Now it seemed like a wise choice because without maintaining a diligent lifestyle, he wouldn’t have achieved excellence.
There was something deep within, pushing him forward. After meeting Auston, he knew it was love.
It was six o’clock, the early morning on Planting Star.
The lake in front of the door is called “Qinghai2T/N: Literally means ‘Sea of love’,” which sounds grand, but in reality, it is a small inland sea, with delicate pink beaches lined with palm and coconut trees, adorned with clusters of fruits. There is a type of algae that grows in the water. During the spring season, they reproduce and flourish, marking the emergence of new life while older life fades away. The released spores cause the algae to decompose, and under the sunlight, the seawater turns into a romantic shade of pink. The remnants of the algae are washed ashore by the rolling waves, tinting the sand red.
Beyond the beach lies a vast expanse of lush green grassland, meticulously maintained by humans. The grass grows thick and vibrant, providing a soothing emerald green backdrop. Along the grassland are white three-story villas, and as the door swing open, Ryan, dressed in sportswear, stepped out. In front of the door is a wide asphalt road, with natural rubber tracks made from plants discovered on a distant planet on either side. It’s a comfortable surface for running and suitable for regular exercise and fitness.
The running track is a total length of ten kilometers. After reaching the end, Ryan would turn back and run back, making it a perfect distance of twenty kilometers. During the run, he would pass by a fifty-meter high rocky mountain with a vertical cliff face, rugged and suitable for natural rock climbing. After climbing up the mountain, he would descend quickly, seamlessly transitioning into a slow jog, completing a perfect routine. Once back home, he would do fifty sets of muscle training and fifty sets of endurance training, making it a sufficient amount of exercise for the day.
Ryan warmed up for a while and was about to start running when he heard a voice from behind, “Wait.” It was his cousin Connor.
Connor looked spirited, showing no signs of fatigue or tiredness from sleeping at 2 AM and waking up at 6 AM. He was dressed in iron gray combat attire, wearing high military boots and a black utility belt that accentuated his strong waistline. Ryan glanced at the backpack he was carrying on his back; he looked even more like a soldier.
“Bro, do you do this every day now?” Before, when my cousin wrote about being a crazy adventurer, he never thought of going on real adventures. How did writing about Qin Feng make him so obsessed with the military? If you were writing about space pirates, would you dress up like a pirate all the time?
“Not really, it just happens occasionally. I got carried away last night while writing, my brain was in high gear, and I couldn’t fall asleep when I woke up. So I decided to get up and exercise. Of course, I don’t dress like this all the time.” Connor stretched his wrists and ankles, finished his hasty warm-up exercises, and was ready to start running.
Ryan nodded, “Got it. Since you’ve decided to exercise, you can’t just go through the motions. If you want to experience military life, you have to go all in. During my time at home, I’ll develop a targeted exercise plan for you, help you break your bad habits, and improve your physical fitness.” He smiled gently, “Come on.”
“Oh, I suddenly remembered that there are some things I haven’t done. I’ll go upstairs now,” Connor took two steps back, clutching his forehead. “Oh, I feel dizzy and uncomfortable, I’m going to take a nap…”
As he turned and walked around, unable to get away, the backpack strap behind him was caught by Ryan, and his younger cousin’s friendly voice was even scarier than that of a stern instructor, “No, you can’t. You’re writing ‘The Song of Beacon,’ and how can you portray the cruelty and perseverance of war without experiencing it yourself? Come on, warm up properly and follow my lead. No slacking off.”
Connor felt like he was transported back to his childhood, trapped in the fear of being dominated by Ryan. When Ryan was born, Connor was already six years old. Upon their first meeting, Ryan was a small, ugly-looking bundle—red, wrinkled, and not even able to cry. Connor couldn’t resist his playful nature and reached out to poke Ryan’s small face, feet, and hands… Only to have his finger grabbed by Ryan’s tiny, tender hand. The newborn baby, with eyes tightly shut, opened his eyes — dark, bright, and cold — startling Connor, who let out a scream.
It was later explained by his mother that newborns couldn’t see anything.
But deep down, Connor subconsciously believed that Ryan could “see,” and as a six-year-old, he was afraid of his newborn brother. It turned out that his fear was justified, as Ryan started taking care of himself at the age of three and set training goals for himself. He even dragged Connor, who was almost ten years old at the time, into daily workouts. Connor lived in fear, dominated by his younger brother, and every night he dreamt of running, doing frog jumps, and high knees…
The effect was remarkable. The Empire mandated that every young teenager undergo six months of militarized training upon entering high school. Connor is like a fish in water in the high-intensity training, while all his classmates have become salted fish exposed to the sun.
“Soldier, the harder you train, the more you can survive on the battlefield,” Ryan released the strap and shouted sternly, “Attention, at ease, eyes front!”
Conditioned by the training, Connor instinctively complied. After completing the exercises, a bitter taste filled his mouth. He shouldn’t have whimsically decided to wake up early. He should have wrapped himself tightly in his blanket. He should be sleeping!
Guiding his cousin through the warm-up exercises, Ryan corrected several of his movements. “Before any physical activity, proper warm-up is crucial to protect yourself. Lift your legs high, maintain a stable lower body, adjust your breathing—inhale, pause, exhale, pause. Maintain this rhythm, and if you feel it becoming disordered, adjust it promptly.”
Connor felt like he had become a salted fish, and he really wanted to die.
After the warm-up exercises, Ryan said, “Alright, let’s start running.”
Hearing this, Connor let out a sigh of relief and glanced at the gate behind him, his eyes shifting. Sensing something, Ryan took a couple of steps and positioned himself next to Connor, effectively blocking his escape route. He smiled and said, “Brother, we’re starting.”
“Ryan, are you a devil?” Connor exclaimed in frustration.
Ryan chuckled, “Perhaps I crawled out of hell, so I might as well be a devil.”
Connor’s face fell. “Doesn’t it hurt your conscience to torment your cousin?”
Ryan replied, “I don’t have a conscience.”
Connor sighed, “…Let’s get started then.”
Considering his cousin’s physical condition, Ryan didn’t push him too hard. He let Connor off the hook after a slow jog of five kilometers, as he was gasping for breath like a bull. However, five kilometers was just a warm-up for Ryan. He looked at Connor, who was sitting on the ground struggling to get up, and furrowed his brows. “This won’t do. Your physical fitness has deteriorated, and you need to improve. You should establish good sleeping habits and not neglect your body while writing.”
Connor wiped the sweat off his forehead, gasping for breath. “I know, huff, my sleep schedule is bad, huff, I’ll adjust it.”
“Good,” Ryan nodded, preparing to continue his own workout. He suddenly remembered something and asked Connor, “About my comrade, what answer do you give? I need to let him know; he’s waiting.”
Supporting his body, Connor looked up at Ryan. The sky was a clear blue, and the morning sunlight gently illuminated everything, making Ryan’s youthful and handsome face appear vibrant. Suddenly, something clicked in Connor’s mind, and his previously stuck thoughts became clear, inspiration flowing like a spring. He smiled and said, “You don’t have to tell him. Fan Lanting left his contact information in the letter, so I replied directly to him.”
Ryan tilted his head, looking puzzled. “Hmm, what did you reply to him?”
“Welcome to E69 as my guest.”
Auditory hallucinations suddenly appeared in Ryan’s ears —Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Fan Lanting must have gone crazy with joy upon receiving a personal reply from his idol and being invited as a guest.
“He must be thrilled,” Ryan affirmed, nodding confidently.
Connor raised his hand to shield his eyes from the gradually brightening sun. “I’m also somewhat excited.” He has received many fan letters, but they usually go to the publishing house, and they forward some to me periodically. I also interact with fans on social media. However, it’s the first time he has received a fan letter in this way, and it’s the first time he has sensed such careful and considerate affection between the lines, “He mentioned that he’ll arrive in a week.”
“Fan Lanting’s family is also in the Stormwind Starfield, so a week… well, he probably set off from home after receiving your reply,” Ryan said. “He is a decent guy and won’t invade your privacy.”
“Yeah, no worries. If he didn’t know his boundaries, I wouldn’t have invited him,” Connor replied with a laugh. “It’s the first time I’ve invited a fan to my home. Haha, a new experience, you know.”
“Everyone has a first time. You rest, I’ll continue.”
Connor : “?”
Connor was going crazy, “Weren’t you supposed to continue and stop bothering me? Then leave already! Why aren’t you leaving?!”
“Didn’t I just remember something? Alas, I’m getting older and my memory is not good.”
Connor replied, “…” Wondering six years older myself already feel quite elderly?
“I brought back the φ3 element synthesis potion,” Ryan said. He had obtained it from Blair. φ3 black truffles were rare in most places, but Blair had an abundance of them in U167. He synthesized many potions, but Blair himself hadn’t injected any due to lacking φ3 element deficiency. He said he wanted to experience the real world without constraints from the government or his significant other. “I’ll bring it to you after the workout.”
Connor was taken aback, he opened his mouth, and after struggling for a while, he managed to say, “Thank you.”
“Five doses of the potion make up one course of treatment. If you decide to inject it, after one course is completed, you can get tested. If the φ3 element levels don’t reach the expected range, I can arrange for the second course of potions as well,” Ryan glanced at his cousin and then turned his gaze forward. He said softly, “Take your time to think it through. Whatever decision you make, I’ll support you.”
Connor lowered his head, concealing all emotions in his eyes, and replied calmly, “Okay.”
Ryan continued running, and as his footsteps faded away, Connor raised his head and stared at a clump of Bird of Paradise flowers planted by the roadside. His face displayed various expressions, finally settling into a cold, sardonic one. “After the injection, will I be subjected to the state’s reproduction program? Ryan, I’m not as lucky as you.”
His choice was to refuse the injection.
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Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152
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