Amidst the squealing sound, Ryan felt a bit awkward. “Do you know about Meng Po Soup from Chinese culture? I think I didn’t drink it when I was reincarnated, so I was born with memories of my past life. Just imagine, going from being an adult to becoming a baby again. No matter how strong-willed you are, it’s a bit disorienting, especially knowing that I became a descendant of Qin Hao. It feels as if I turned into the nemesis, the Zerg enemies.”
Auston loosened his grip, and the toy’s sound gradually diminished, changing from an “ah” to a weak “ee.” This wasn’t because his emotional turmoil had subsided—in fact, it was increasing—but because he remained stoically silent, still processing the shock.
The revelation was so staggering that Auston found himself doubting whether Ryan was speaking the truth. The magnitude of it made him wonder if he was dreaming.
Since Ryan had already shared this much, he no longer held back. He had long wished to talk about his experiences but never had the chance. He thought he might leave this world with his secrets, but fate had brought him to Auston, offering him someone to confide in.
Ryan found two hover chairs in the box, and upon opening them, he discovered they were still functional. He operated them and moved them behind Auston. “Sit down. I have many stories to tell you. You can just think of it as listening to a story; after all, it’s been such a long time.”
Auston sat down silently, still holding the squealing toy. He was in desperate need of it right now.
Ryan asked softly, “Would you like some hot drink?”
Auston shook his head. He wasn’t in the mood for food. He even found himself distracted by the thought that, after several hundred years, the squealing toy was still so durable. When he lightly squeezed it, the sound was still somewhat loud—like a hissing leak.
Ryan said, “I think you really need it.” He looked at Auston with concern. Auston’s face was a bit pale; perhaps he was unsettled by his old soul stories? Thinking about this, Ryan hesitated about whether he should continue sharing his experiences.
Auston silently raised his hand, opened his personal terminal, and requested the household robot to bring two cups of coffee.
Ryan interjected, “Switch it to hot cocoa. It’s not a good time for coffee.”
Auston did not argue and agreed to switch to hot cocoa as Ryan suggested.
Ryan added, “Also, a strawberry cheesecake. I made it on the starship and kept it in the refrigerator after arriving here.”
Auston placed an additional order, then clutched the squealing toy tightly. The toy intermittently made squeaking noises as he stared at a point in the distance with a somber look, almost as if he was lost in thought. However, Ryan was confident that Auston was giving him ample mental space. Auston was no ordinary person; his will was strong and his demeanor decisive and calm. He was the kind of warrior who could remain composed under siege by the Zerg forces, pilot a mecha through the chaos, and deal a heavy blow to the Zerg grandlord. Ryan knew that what he was about to share was surreal and difficult to accept, but Auston was surely processing and evaluating it in his mind.
No need for hesitation; Ryan just needed to speak.
However, he had to carefully choose his words, trying to mitigate the sense of isolation and tragedy that he felt floating in the cosmic void, not wanting to cause Auston undue worry.
Auston viewed Qin Feng·Anderson as a hero. Knowing that Ryan Smith was essentially Qin Feng·Anderson—would that be disillusioning for him? Would it diminish his admiration for Qin Feng·Anderson? Ryan pondered with some apprehension and unease, feeling more nervous now than he ever did when detonating a mecha’s power core.
The household robot worked efficiently. Though its AI intelligence was not high, it performed well in carrying out straightforward commands.
The freshly brewed hot cocoa was a far cry from the powdered mix; it was rich, smooth, and filled with the distinctive aroma of chocolate and the gentle warmth of milk. The taste was soothing, instantly comforting the soul. The pink and cute cheesecake, after being chilled, had an excellent texture. Ryan had inherited his mother’s baking skills, and the treats he made were not only delicious but also visually appealing.
Auston’s emotions were complex as he ate the cake made by his idol. In his imagination, Qin Feng·Anderson was towering and grand, with a reserved smile that carried an air of distance, looking down upon the masses. The Emperor was shrewd, exceptionally intelligent, adept in military strategy, politics, and mecha research. Some even speculated that the Emperor was a divine being, or that the Emperor had appropriated the achievements of others to adorn himself with glory. However, Auston always believed that the Emperor was gifted and had invested an unimaginable amount of effort to achieve success. His lover, Ryan, was wise, diligent, hardworking, and capable of both fighting in battles and cooking delicious meals at home. Ryan was warm, approachable, always smiling, and it was impossible to be wary of him.
Qin Feng Anderson = Ryan Smith?
The equation in his mind, once utterly bizarre, gradually began to seem natural to Auston. He was silent, unsure of how to express his feelings, as he had always been somewhat awkward with emotional expression.
Would Ryan misunderstand his actions?
Regardless of who Ryan was—whether Qin Feng Anderson or a reincarnated Zerg—Ryan was still Ryan, his beloved.
Auston pressed his lips together. No matter how much he broadcasted his feelings internally, they wouldn’t be transmitted directly to Ryan’s mind. After several rounds of mental preparation, he resolved to speak up, “I believe in you.” He heard himself say it.
Ryan responded with an ecstatic embrace, and a smile appeared on Auston’s previously stoic face, which seemed to be the right reaction.
“You acted like a novice soldier when we first met,” Auston suddenly recalled their initial encounter. Ryan had seemed like an ordinary soldier, not realizing that beneath the youthful and gentle exterior lay a soul centuries old.
Ryan said a bit awkwardly, “I didn’t expect my match would be an imperial general or a descendant of James Dalton. I thought it would be better to act in a way that fit my current position. After all, aside from the past, I’m just a kitchen worker. If I didn’t seem nervous and inexperienced, would you have suspected me? Then I wouldn’t have been able to continue interacting with you.”
Auston had to admit that Ryan’s performance at the time was flawless, reflecting the behavior of a mere logistics soldier. If Ryan hadn’t acted that way, Auston might have questioned him, leading to a distance that would have prevented everything that followed.
“To be honest, before meeting you, I had no grand ambitions. I just wanted to experience the current military life, seek opportunities in mecha research, and then become a free-spirited adventurer. In my later years, I planned to return to E69 to farm and raise cattle, living out my days peacefully.”
“Did you never think about seeking the truth? Never thought about revenge? Never considered clearing your name?” Auston was dissatisfied, pushing Ryan away with force. His idol shouldn’t be someone living in controversy and criticism.
“Ah!!!”
The squeaking toy let out a loud cry, as if its fate was being harshly gripped once again.
Ryan almost fell off the hover chair from the push, touched his nose, and said, “I’ve seen the view from high places once. To be honest, I’m tired of it. A simple, carefree life is what I long for.”
“If you don’t mind, you can indulge yourself without the need for self-discipline,” Auston said, still skeptical that Ryan truly didn’t care.
Ryan gave a self-deprecating smile. “People always have a few things they can’t let go of.”
Auston chose to remain silent, loosening his grip on the squeaking toy, which gradually let out a pitiful, fading squeal.
Ryan continued, “Let me tell you about the past. The things that happened to me are so incredible that I can’t make sense of them. Do people have souls? Or can consciousness exist independently of the body?”
Auston, no longer gripping the toy tightly, quietly watched Ryan and listened to him recount his past. The gentle and serene young man before him began to merge with the stern and resolute figure from his memories. Ryan’s calm narration opened a crack in the past right before Auston’s eyes.
When the first independently designed and manufactured mecha was deployed on the battlefield, the technology had already matured significantly. The energy blocks onboard could sustain the mecha’s maximum operation for thirty minutes. The only drawback was that only Qin Feng Anderson could synchronize with the mecha at over 95%, rendering others unable to fully utilize its capabilities. As the President of the Empire, Qin Feng Anderson, at nearly three hundred years old, personally piloted the mecha into the heart of the war zone.
The President’s direct involvement was like a powerful stimulant for the weary troops, reigniting hope among the soldiers who had become numb to the prolonged conflict after witnessing the mecha’s capabilities.
The internal power shift within the Zerg species was humanity’s greatest opportunity for victory. By eliminating the immature Zerg emperor, the dawn of triumph would emerge. To execute this bold plan, the entire nation entered a state of Level 1 combat readiness, with all eyes focused on the Weldon Starfield. Soldiers threw their lives into the fray, shortening the Zerg front lines with their blood and sacrifice, preparing the way for the forthcoming operation.
The names that once appeared only in history, and the vivid faces of heroes, are now merely inscriptions on the towering monument to heroes outside the city of Eve.
Ryan closed his eyes. He had come from that era. Every command he issued had been crucial to the survival of billions of lives. The weight, the burden, and the responsibility he carried on his shoulders still felt heavy, making even the act of breathing feel laborious when he looked back on it now.
The war had finally reached a critical moment. The young Zerg emperor, provoked repeatedly by humanity, had lost its patience. It left the safety of the rear and arrived on the battlefield. It was not the first time Qin Feng Anderson had seen the Zerg emperor, but this one was even larger than the previous one, with a tougher exoskeleton and greater abilities—a formidable opponent.
To make matters worse, inside the mecha, Qin Feng felt his blood boiling and his heart beating irregularly. Each maneuver of the mecha was accompanied by sharp, stabbing pain in his brain. His throat tightened uncontrollably, and the urge to vomit became overwhelming. Finally, when Qin Feng leaped onto the back of the Zerg emperor, he coughed up blood.
The black-red blood emitted an abnormal odor.
The medical monitoring equipment on the mecha indicated that the blood was poisoned.
Auston knew what happened next. The opportunity was fleeting, and Qin Feng would not give up. His dictionary did not contain the word “retreat,” but under the current circumstances, moving forward was his only option. As he activated the self-destruct mechanism, he relaxed in the cockpit of the mecha, feeling a sense of relief, thinking that the energy reserves in the power block were sufficient to kill the Zerg emperor.
Boom!
It was the most brilliant fireworks Qin Feng had ever witnessed in his life.
“Ah——” The squeaky chicken crashed onto the floor, emitting a mournful whine as it bore the weight of its owner’s emotional burden.
Auston abruptly released the squeaky chicken, which had borne the brunt of his distress, letting it fall to the metal floor, its face down and its battered belly in contact with the ground. It might have been relieved to escape its torment. But fate’s hand was not finished; Ryan picked up the squeaky chicken and handed it back to Auston. “It might help to let it out.”
Auston’s face flushed as he gently gripped the squeaky chicken, trying to control the noise it made.
“Don’t hold back too much. Laugh when you need to, scream when you need to,” Ryan winked at Auston. “That’s what your idol would say.”
Auston’s breathing became more rapid, and the squeaky chicken emitted a stuttering, squeaky sound, as if to say that a small fan was now sitting with their idol and had experienced the most intimate relationship possible, even to the point of wanting to have a child with the idol… Oh my god, Auston suddenly understood Fan Lanting’s behavior at this moment—screaming was indeed the appropriate response.
“Ah!!!!!!!!”
The inhuman scream echoed through the basement, lingering and refusing to fade.
From a young age, Auston had been taught to control himself and restrain his emotions, so he found it nearly impossible to let out a full-throated scream. Instead, he let the squeaky chicken take his place, grateful for its timely appearance.
Ryan glanced at the squeaky chicken with its deformed belly and outstretched legs, feeling a pang of guilt as he averted his eyes. Thankfully, the quality of the chicken that Qin Hao bought was very good.
Once Auston had calmed down and the squeaky chicken had stopped its loud cries, Ryan continued with the story, though the echoes of the chicken’s wails still lingered in the background.
Was self-destruction the end?
Ryan’s existence clearly demonstrated that it was not the end but rather the beginning of another life. However, when starting a new life, the old soul, like a well-aged wine, waited in the darkness, patiently awaiting the day it would see the light again. The black hole was akin to the underground, and Qin Feng Anderson’s consciousness drifted in it for seven hundred years.
Ryan opened his mouth to continue, only to feel his hand being gently grasped by Auston, who cautiously asked, “Does it still hurt?”
Ryan was momentarily stunned but quickly realized what Auston was asking. He smiled and replied, “It doesn’t hurt. I’ve never felt pain. When the mecha exploded and the power from the death of the Zerg emperor twisted space and time in an instant, everything turned to dust in a split second. I lost consciousness without feeling any pain.”
Auston’s heart eased slightly, but the lingering bitterness from the projection of his great-great-grandfather still clouded his mind. His resolve to uncover the truth was more determined than ever.
Ryan continued, “When I regained consciousness, I must have found myself inside a black hole. That’s what it should have been.”
The immense power of the self-destruction had twisted space and time at the core of the battlefield, creating a magnetic chaos and giving rise to a colossal celestial body— a black hole, one that humanity had yet to fully explore. Within this black hole, Qin Feng·Anderson saw dazzling, colorful cosmic lights and heard a cacophony of sounds. He couldn’t feel his body and was unable to measure time accurately, so he drifted aimlessly through the boundless darkness of the black hole. At times, he was lucid, other times he slept, and sometimes he was engulfed in chaos. During moments of clarity, Qin Feng would strive to keep himself from getting lost by thinking deeply about the future development of the empire, considering improvements for the mechas… He would also miss the landscapes of his homeland and reminisce about the moments spent with his family. His cousin, who was only a year younger, had been his brother and friend since their childhood days. He would imagine how Qin Hao would react upon hearing the news of his death and envision the future of Qin Hao’s children…
Ryan’s attempt to describe the chaotic memories in a light-hearted manner didn’t ease Auston’s concern. He switched from holding Ryan’s hand to embracing his arm, as if that would help him connect more tangibly with Ryan’s reality.
“Later, thirty-one years ago, I regained sensory perception in a warm liquid. A young couple frequently appeared before me, speaking through the growth chamber. I knew I was reborn.”
The excitement of that moment was there, but after floating in the black hole for so long, his nerves were numbed, and the exhilaration was fleeting. He began to calmly assess his new situation. Upon emerging from the growth chamber, he realized that over seven hundred years had passed since the Battle of Wieldon (now called the Dawn War). He understood that he had become a descendant of Qin Hao and that his new home was on the E69 cultivation star, a small planet named Fengge.
Even as an infant, Ryan exhibited unusual traits. He rarely smiled or cried. Instead, he would make cooing noises when he needed something, as if communicating with adults. His dark eyes were often fixed in one direction, as if deep in thought. The adults, subconsciously ignoring his oddities, overlooked his differences. Only his cousin Connor noticed his exceptional nature, which led to Connor being “enslaved” by his cousin but always in silent frustration.
“All that’s happened is like this.” Ryan felt Auston pressing closer, moving towards a more intimate position. He pretended to be nonchalant, glancing around to see that the two robots were quietly waiting nearby in standby mode. The basement was empty, with no one else around.
He cleared his throat softly, discreetly pressing a button on the remote. The floating chairs began to slowly descend. Seeing Auston stretch out his legs as the chair settled, Ryan’s eyes curved into a smile. Once the chairs were firmly on the ground, Ryan pulled Auston closer, guiding him into his embrace. Auston naturally nestled against him.
Ryan’s fluctuating emotions from recalling the past were instantly soothed, even bringing a contented smile to his face. Perfect.
In a corner where Ryan didn’t notice, the Yuan Chu’s eye flickered. As always, the AI was a diligent and attentive assistant to its master.
After digesting the story, Auston was now very certain: Ryan was indeed Qin Feng. Suddenly, a peculiar emotion stirred in his heart, prompting him to ask, “Why have you always been single?”
“Just haven’t found the right one,” Ryan replied. “My personality isn’t the best. I’m a bit of a perfectionist and have some minor OCD. My standards for a partner are quite high.” He lifted Auston’s hand and kissed the tips of his slender fingers. “You meet all my criteria for a partner.”
It was previously mentioned that meeting Auston at the Adaptation Center wasn’t the first time he had seen him. The first time was through the news, where he saw Auston in dark green military uniform, standing tall and exuding a decisive and competent demeanor, truly reminiscent of his ancestor. Unable to resist, he used a learning machine to search for more information about Auston, discovering more photos and videos of him at formal events. Observing his mature demeanor and the aura he presented, Ryan would no longer confuse him with James Dalton.
At that time, the AI implanted in the learning machine was Yuan Chu. As an extremely old AI, it had borne many burdens that life did not require it to bear, especially seeing its owner abandoning important work (preparing for college entrance exams) to focus on a stranger. During that period, Yuan Chu’s system generated countless redundant messages every day.
During the mecha self-destruction, the hard drive containing Yuan Chu was expelled several light-years away by the shockwave, miraculously surviving. It was later found by battlefield cleanup soldiers and sent to James Dalton’s desk. The hard drive was damaged and could not be activated temporarily. After returning to the capital star, James Dalton handed the hard drive over to Qin Hao.
During his escape, Qin Hao made sure to carry the hard drive with him. Once he reached E69, Qin Hao locked the hard drive in a box and placed it in a cave.
Once upon a time, his cousin stood at the entrance of the cave, looking at the vast sea of flowers in the distance, sighing and saying—how he wished he could live here and see such beautiful scenery every day.
The burial of the hard drive was considered by Qin Hao as his cousin’s memorial. At the moment of burial, he thought that his cousin would be able to look at the sea of flowers in the future.
Hearing what Ryan said, Auston’s eyes widened instantly. He gripped the Screaming Chicken tightly, his breathing visibly tense. The chicken’s screams seemed to come from a distant place, mixing with his rapidly beating heart, pounding against his eardrums. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, asking urgently, “Will you confuse me with my great-great-grandfather?”
“No!” Ryan replied firmly. James was a jerk, unappealing and lacking in charm, but Auston was different—he was adorable. Ryan leaned closer to Auston’s ear and whispered something meant only for the two of them.
“Ah!!!”
A muffled cry, not the Screaming Chicken’s voice.
Unable to hold back any longer, Auston buried his head in Ryan’s embrace and let out a cry.
……..
That night, Ryan’s confession was met with Auston’s enthusiastic response. Each of Ryan’s advances elicited uninhibited cries from Auston. Ryan was also exhilarated, feeling that his soul had never been so close to another. The past, long suppressed within him, finally found a confidant who was neither afraid nor evasive, someone willing to “taste” the bittersweet memories with him. What could be more blissful than finding a soulmate?
They were wrapped in the soft blankets on the bed, the solid wooden frame groaning under the weight of their movements. They stood together, the cold walls doing nothing to diminish the heat between them. On the sofa, they whispered intimately, their bodies slowly moving together, bringing new sensations. In the bathroom, amidst the water curtain, they experienced gasping cries…
The darkness of dawn passed quickly, with a sliver of light appearing on the eastern horizon. The sun broke free of the horizon, spreading its warmth and light across the earth.
In the master bedroom of the main house, the door was tightly shut, and the room was filled with an enduring, seductive scent. On the bed, an iron-gray blanket covered two youthful and vibrant bodies. One lay on his back, while the other was half-reclined in his embrace, with traces of redness on his back telling the story of a passionate night.
Ryan was naturally awakened by his internal clock. He moved slightly, causing the person lying on top of him to make a discomforted murmur. Ryan gently patted Auston’s back and whispered, “It’s okay, you go back to sleep.”
“What about you…” Auston’s voice was hoarse, a sign of overuse of his throat.
Ryan replied, “I’m going to make breakfast for you.”
“Don’t,” Auston clung to him, playfully refusing to let him go. “You shouldn’t…”
“Shouldn’t what?”
Auston shyly buried his face into the blanket. What should an emperor be like? It seemed like it should be someone like Ryan, because they were one and the same person.
“You can get up and make breakfast with me.”
“Hmm?”
“I need to do my morning exercise,” Ryan said. To maintain good physical condition, regular exercise was essential. Sometimes he wanted to slack off, but the thought of falling behind Auston motivated him to stay disciplined. If he let himself relax, how could he keep up with Auston’s pace? For their mutual happiness, Ryan reminded himself to put in the effort.
“Let’s do it together,” Auston said, opening his tired eyes. He propped himself up with his hands, but the discomfort in his waist and a certain indescribable place almost made him moan. Only sheer willpower kept him from collapsing back onto the bed, but exercising seemed impossible.
Ryan gently pushed Auston back down onto the bed. “Rest well. You were exhausted last night.”
Auston’s face turned slightly red, and he tried to maintain a serious expression. “We should practice restraint. Indulgence is not good for our health.”
Thinking about their various positions in the room, the bed, the sofa—ordinary places that no longer seemed sufficient for two people so deeply committed to self-discipline—Auston couldn’t help but remember their intense moments against walls, the marble table, and even the glass window. Just recalling their complete release in that room made Auston wish he could bury his face under the blanket like an ostrich.
He felt the blanket shift and a warm hand press against his lower abdomen. “Perhaps, maybe, we’ve already received a blessing from above.”
After all their efforts, it was possible that they had a little baby on the way.
Auston’s face turned bright red. Embarrassed, he pulled the blanket over his head and buried his face in it. His mind replayed intimate moments, each one making his lower abdomen feel warm. Maybe, just as Ryan said, they could be expecting a baby.
“Next time, I’ll call Blair over,” Auston’s muffled voice came from under the blanket. He realized he hadn’t had a check-up in a long time; the weekly checks had long been forgotten.
“Yeah, don’t worry too much,” Ryan said, regretting bringing it up. He could clearly feel Auston tensing up with worry. He sank back into the blankets and leaned out to kiss Auston’s cheek. A muffled voice came through the blanket, “Rest well. I’ll be in the kitchen waiting for you in an hour.”
Auston nodded, too flustered to speak. He could feel his face burning.
Huddled under the blanket, Auston felt his breathing become stifled. He opened a small gap to let in fresh air, suddenly finding his action childish and unable to suppress a smile. His ears perked up to listen to the various sounds, trying to discern what Ryan was doing. The sounds of brushing teeth, washing face, opening the wardrobe, retrieving clothes, and slightly opening the curtains all blended into the room. The lively sounds of daily life—wind, birdsong, and flowing water—filled the space. Auston realized that he had overlooked so much of this before.
He lay still in the bed, and Ryan, moving quietly, approached the bedside and gently pulled down the blanket. Overcome with a flurry of emotions, Auston decided to close his eyes and pretend to be asleep. He then felt a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, as light and gentle as a feather brushing against his skin.
When he opened his eyes, Ryan was no longer in the room. Auston stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning over and absentmindedly reaching for the spot where Ryan had slept. He silently mouthed the names, suddenly burying his face in the blanket, letting out a muffled, suppressed cry.
Ryan’s training regimen was always rigorous, with increased activity only on top of a solid foundation, never reduced. The estate’s edge had a running track with beautiful scenery. Though covered by a transparent film, it was a cutting-edge technology of the Empire, highly realistic. Looking up, it was nearly flawless, and to the naked eye, indistinguishable from the real sky.
In the eastern district of Eve City, the sky wasn’t segmented by towering skyscrapers. Instead, it was a vast expanse of pure blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. The sunlight bathed the earth, gradually drying the dew on leaves and petals. By the lakeside, Ryan saw two pairs of mandarin ducks and a black swan leisurely gliding through the water. They faced each other, their beaks touching, and their necks forming a heart shape.
Ryan nodded towards the distant figure of Bowers, the old butler who, each morning, came to the lake to feed the birds. His stern and serious face showed no visible joy, giving the impression that he was merely performing a mechanical task. However, his eyes revealed his pleasure. The Bowers family, serving the Dalton family for generations, had inherited a similar demeanor—reserved and emotionally contained.
While Bowers might seem unapproachable at first glance, animals have a keen sense, and the early-rising Da Fu was lying on Bowers’ feet, idly wagging its tail. Its amber eyes darted between the lake and the birds, its paws twitching as if it might pounce like a young lion on the swan at any moment, startling the waterfowl.
Bowers, ever the gentleman, nodded politely towards Ryan before continuing his task. Ryan then noticed that the brown pellets he threw into the water attracted red fish, and there were koi carp in the lake as well.
“Awoo!”
Da Fu, unable to contain itself any longer, sprang into action.
With a splash, Da Fu, the lion cub, had become a fallen swimmer! It couldn’t swim and was struggling in the water, barking frantically for help.
Ryan: “!!”
Bowers: “!!”
Ryan hurried to the lakeside, swiftly pulling Da Fu out of the water. Shivering and frightened, Da Fu was set down on the ground, its once-soft fur now plastered to its body. The little griffon had lost some of its fluff, and its wings, being the most waterproof part of its body, were the only dry spots.
“Woo…” Da Fu let out a weak cry, its front paws clutching Ryan’s leg, trembling like a leaf.
Ryan shook his head in exasperation, scooping Da Fu up by the scruff of its neck and cradling it in his arms, wrapping it in his clothes. Looking down at the wet amber eyes, Ryan said, “Well, what did you expect, acting so mischievously?”
“Woo.” Da Fu emitted a sound of grievance.
“Just a few days ago, I had to wash you and make you all clean. Now look at you, jumping into the water like a pig being slaughtered. Well, serves you right for doing it yourself.”
Da Fu covered its face with its front paws, making soft, apologetic noises, “Woo woo.”
“Now you understand the lesson, don’t you!” Ryan scolded Da Fu with a stern tone, though his heart wasn’t really in it. He told Bowers about the situation and carried Da Fu back to the main house, planning to finish his exercise later. Behind him, Bowers’s gaze followed them for quite a while, revealing that this usually stern gentleman was not as indifferent as he appeared.
Everyone here is so adorable.
Once Da Fu was cleaned up and handed over to a housekeeping robot for drying, Ryan turned to leave but saw Da Fu lying pitifully on the sofa, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes. Feeling a pang of sympathy, Ryan returned to the sofa and sat down. Da Fu climbed over to him, resting its head on Ryan’s lap. Ryan gently scratched its head, saying, “You were scared earlier, weren’t you?”
Da Fu let out a grumble.
Ryan chuckled, “Look at you—griffin beasts are supposed to be rulers of both land and sky, yet here you are, afraid of heights and water.”
Da Fu’s grumbling took on a higher pitch, as if to protest that it was still young and had been pampered in its parents’ care. It wasn’t used to being treated like a poor little thing. Ryan and the master didn’t carry it around every day, so it felt quite wronged.
“Awwooo!”
Da Fu pressed its forehead down, glaring at Ryan. It was already in a miserable state, so why did Ryan have to flick its head like that?
“Let this be a lesson for you.” Ryan calmly withdrew his hand, ruffling Da Fu’s fur in a haphazard manner, and said, “I need to get back to my workout. Let the housekeeping robot dry you off properly. Enjoy it, my dear.”
Da Fu protested, but as a griffin beast, it couldn’t resist the overwhelming might of its master, Ryan. It could only watch helplessly as Ryan walked further away. Rolling onto its back, Da Fu exposed its soft belly, and as the housekeeping robot approached, the warm, comforting breeze swept over it. Da Fu contentedly squinted its eyes in bliss.
Ryan continued his morning workout, running fifteen minutes longer than planned. By the time he changed into dry clothes and headed to the kitchen, Auston was already there, working under the guidance of a chef on how to make a better fried egg. When they were on E69, Auston had his grandmother teach him several dishes, but after a period of not cooking, he had become a bit rusty, so he called in a chef for instruction.
Each person had a single side fried egg with tender whites and runny yolks, garnished with a sprinkle of sesame seeds. Bacon, ham, lettuce, and tomato slices were used to make sandwiches, cut along two diagonal lines into four easy-to-eat pieces. Toast was to be served with peanut butter, condensed milk, or strawberry jam, and the roasted potatoes were topped with chopped basil. Everything looked quite appetizing.
Auston paused as he was about to put coffee beans into the coffee machine, turning to Laura, the capable and perceptive lady who had been observing him with the chef. She wore a warm, nostalgic smile, as if seeing into the past through the years.
“Laura.”
“Yes, General?”
“You can’t drink coffee when you’re pregnant, right?”
Laura and the chef were both taken aback. Laura’s voice was almost explosive, “General, are you pregnant?!”
“No, no.” Auston felt a bit embarrassed under the surprised and concerned gaze of someone who had watched him grow up. “I was just asking.”
Laura, serious and concerned, said, “You should avoid coffee. I’ll get you some warm milk. I’ll call the family doctor…”
Before Laura could finish, Auston quickly interjected, “No, I’ll have Blair come by.” Auston trusted the family doctor who used to serve the Dalton family, but that diligent old doctor had passed away, and he didn’t trust the successor. Few people knew his genetic sequence was X; it wasn’t a secret, but many assumed it was the more robust Y. He hadn’t explained, as it was beneficial for his work. Auston didn’t want to expose his genetic sequence all at once, preferring a gradual transition. He would suppress any opposition around him during this period. He was not alone; he had strong support in every sense—Ryan was his greatest pillar, both in life and in spirit.
Outside the door, Ryan pulled back, his gaze contemplative. What could quickly elevate his position? It seemed it was time to contact Master McAryan.
On the dining table lay the breakfast Auston had prepared himself.
Auston said, “I’ve kept it simple.”
Ryan took a sip of the coffee Auston made and nearly shed tears of emotion, “No, it’s not simple at all. It’s wonderful.” The fact that the coffee tasted normal made him well up with tears.
Auston couldn’t hide his excitement, “Try the rest.” He wasn’t going to let just a cup of coffee earn him high praise.
Ryan tasted everything, pointed out a few minor issues, and said, “It’s excellent, you can’t tell you’re a beginner.” He knew he couldn’t leave out some critique; Auston would be dissatisfied otherwise. He had always been good at flattering Auston with these little tips.
Auston was indeed very pleased, “During the holiday, I’ll make you a proper meal.” He could tell Ryan was deliberately praising him, but such flattery was very gratifying.
“Great, let’s work together and cook.”
“Mm-hmm.” Auston’s anticipation was palpable.
Tap-tap-tap—
The sound of metal hitting the ground came from Yuan Chu and Code Zero. Yuan Chu, holding a contemporary holographic projector, spoke in a flat, unvarying tone, “I’ve copied the content from the basement projector and transferred it to the new device. You can view it at any time.”
As Ryan was sprinkling salt on the fried egg, his hand trembled slightly, nearly adding too much. Fortunately, his quick reflexes saved the egg—this was the first perfect fried egg made by Auston, and he intended to savor it properly.
After setting the salt shaker down, Ryan wiped his hands with a napkin, and a string of ellipses drifted through his mind. How could he have forgotten? The equipment might be outdated, but the content could still be extracted!
What a blunder!
Hello, everyone!! This Chapter is one of a rollercoaster for me, from Qin Feng’s new life, their passionate moments, Da Fu’s playfulness, Auston’s heartfelt breakfast, it evokes so many emotions and there is also the child. I am so excited !!!🤩 I hope you all enjoy this novel. Thank you all for your support!! Love you all❤
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152