MPWATMBC Chapter 82

In the sunroom on the east side of the old house’s first floor, sunlight streamed through stained glass windows adorned with roses, casting soft blue patches of light on the floor in the shape of blooming flowers. The light, carefully adjusted, was gentle and soothing, ensuring it wouldn’t harm the delicate eyes of young children. The glowing patterns fell upon a short-pile cashmere rug in a creamy yellow hue, where two children sat—a plump, round-faced baby and an adorably delicate little one named Tuantuan.

The baby looked at Tuantuan and said, “Hello.”

Tuantuan mimicked with great effort, responding, “Ee-ya~.”

The baby squinted with delight. “So cute.”

Tuan Tuan let out a small yawn. “Ee-ya…“

Yawns, being contagious, spread quickly. The baby followed suit with a yawn of his own, murmuring, “Sleepy.”

He lay down beside Tuantuan, their little heads touching, and closed his eyes, ready to drift off to sleep.

The household robot, stationed nearby to watch over the two children, noticed the scene. Its system began to operate, and it brought over a blanket to cover the two little ones.

Not far from the children, the Stark couple appeared far less uneasy and anxious than when they had first arrived. After sharing a few experiences together, they gradually regained the familiarity they once felt during their travels. They spoke of their encounter at the Qin Feng Anderson Museum, the delightful anecdotes from a few days aboard the cruise ship, and the panic at Beland’s capital bus station when their child had gone missing.

Graydon sighed deeply. “If it weren’t for you, we really would have lost the baby.”

Though they didn’t deny their contributions, Ryan and Auston didn’t want to come across as boastful. Skipping over the somber topic, Ryan asked, “Weren’t you planning to give the baby a cute nickname?”

“We were, but then we figured just calling him ‘Baby, Baby’ worked fine,” Graydon replied, feeling a bit embarrassed to share the real reason.

Herman, seeking to close the distance between them and make his husband’s upcoming task easier and safer, didn’t mind revealing something personal. He smiled and said, “Graydon is too shy to say it, so I’ll tell you—and don’t laugh! We heard from some elders that giving children ‘humble’ names makes them easier to raise. They said, ‘A lowly name keeps the child safe.’ We had come up with all kinds of ideas, like Goldie or Lucky Treasure, but after hearing that, we were too afraid to choose one. So, we stuck with just calling him ‘Baby.’”

Ryan, having grown up hearing such sayings passed down from ancient times, was somewhat familiar with the concept. Auston, however, had never encountered this before. After listening to Herman’s explanation, he surprisingly found it somewhat reasonable—so much so that he even considered giving Tuantuan a similar nickname, like “Baby.” It just went to show that when it came to children, there was no such thing as being overly practical or dismissive.

Even after relying on scientific assurances, many parents couldn’t help but turn to superstition for a sense of comfort. Otherwise, why would they give their children longevity locks or protective amulets? It was all about seeking peace of mind.

Children were always the best common ground for conversation. During the Stark couple’s visit, the time was mostly spent exchanging parenting tips, as if nothing in the world could be more important than children. When Graydon and Herman insisted on leaving without staying overnight, Ryan arranged for a small starship to take them back. As he watched the starship disappear from sight, Ryan lowered his gaze to his palm. Resting there was a small, intricately crafted data storage device, containing an abundance of “stories” from seven centuries ago.

The old recording equipment that Ryan had previously extracted from outdated vacuum tubes was too aged and poorly preserved. Despite repairs, the contents could not be fully restored. The distorted, unverifiable audio couldn’t be used as evidence in court. What Graydon and Herman brought was a lifeline.

The tiny storage device had been guarded by the Stark family for generations. It held evidence collected by Antonio and Qin Hao. Seven hundred years ago, during tumultuous times, endless challenges and dangers arose. Ryan couldn’t even begin to imagine how Qin Hao, in the midst of chaos, managed to preserve the evidence or how he, with James Dalton’s help, safeguarded the elderly and young in his family during their escape. Nor could he fathom how Antonio, a man known for his impatience, endured three years in prison, suppressing his instincts to protect himself while navigating the treacherous political landscape.

And James Dalton—how much effort and sacrifice must he have invested to help Qin Hao and Antonio during those perilous times? Ryan’s thoughts lingered on the immense courage and dedication it must have taken to preserve what little justice could still be found in a world teetering on the edge of collapse.

The people he was familiar with had all passed away, whether they were friends, family, or enemies.

Ryan had no way to ask what exactly happened seven hundred years ago, but whenever he closed his eyes, the familiar images of their struggle for survival would surface in his mind.

Feeling the strength coming from behind him, Auston embraced him and said, “Leave these materials to me. I won’t let their hard work go to waste.”

“Thank you for your hard work.”.

“It’s not hard work. This is something I’ve always wanted to do.”

Ryan smiled faintly, the haze in his eyes disappearing. He said with a laugh, “If there’s anything I can do to help, don’t keep it from me. Just tell me what you need.”

Auston said, “Finish the beast-form mecha. I’m waiting to experience the new weapon.”

“Alright!” 

On the small starship, Graydon and Herman noticed that all their luggage from the hotel had been neatly packed and placed aboard. They had been told they would be moved to a safer place, but they thought the relocation would happen after some time at the hotel—not this quickly.

Graydon, prone to sweating due to his weight, habitually wiped the fine beads of sweat from his forehead and said, “I can feel the general’s efficiency.”

“You think everyone is like you, dragging things out,” Herman replied. The tension in his heart eased slightly, and the deep anxiety and worry hidden in his eyes began to dissipate. With Auston and Ryan to rely on, he felt assured that everything would be fine.

“Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, that’s why I can only be a small fry,” Graydon said as he wrapped Herman in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“There you go again,” Herman said, lowering his gaze. His once-tense body relaxed as he leaned into Graydon’s embrace.

“I won’t say it anymore,” Graydon said with a grin, his eyes crinkling. “By the way, Ryan’s grilled short ribs were amazing. Ow, why are you pinching me?”

“No talking about food!” Herman retorted. “Now I’m hungry.”

“Alright, alright…” 

Not far from the two fathers, the baby sighed with worry, gazing out the window with reluctance. It seemed like Tuantuan was being taken away, and though he had been held when they left, why couldn’t he be taken along?

The data storage device Graydon brought hid secrets from seven hundred years ago, including a clear audio recording of Antonio leading Bilbo Gustav to reveal the truth about poisoning Emperor Qin Feng. With that evidence, the financial ledgers became much lighter. When this recording was exposed during former Prime Minister Byron Gustav’s self-defense in court, his usually composed and authoritative face suddenly showed cracks, unable to manage his expression in time.

“Fake! Slander!” Byron Gustav shouted, trying to maintain his calm in court. “My ancestor followed Emperor Qin Feng-Anderson and always held himself to the strict standards of a judge. Fairness and justice are in his bones. He was the Emperor’s lifelong friend and a partner in his work. How could he have killed the Emperor? This is slander, nothing but slander!”

The audience at the hearing buzzed with chatter, opinions divided. Some were shocked by the content of the recording and believed such a conversation must have taken place in history. Others staunchly supported the former prime minister, condemning the forgers for shaking the public’s perception of their hero, for desecrating history. Some remained silent, watching the scene unfold without a word, while others wavered, feeling there was truth on both sides yet questioning whether either side was truly right.

Byron Gustav defended himself vigorously. “After Emperor Qin Feng’s death, the country was unstable, facing the possibility of fragmentation. If it weren’t for Chief Justice Bilbo Gustav’s calm and steady leadership in overseeing various matters, we wouldn’t be witnessing the united empire we have today. The nine star systems might have split into nine separate nations—or even more! Think about what the Chief Justice did: advocating for education, focusing on scientific research, supporting President Anderson, punishing crime… Each of these actions was aimed at benefiting the people!”

In the vast courtroom, Byron Gustav stood at the center, surrounded by high platforms filled with people. Their gazes, ranging from critical to reverential to skeptical, all looked down at him. He stood unfazed, chest held high, facing it all. He was a remarkably handsome man, his short hair slicked back, exposing a broad forehead and a pair of bright, determined eyes. His temples were slightly graying, and his skin had a hint of tan, giving him the appearance of a reliable, cultured gentleman.

In his well-reasoned defense, more and more people leaned toward Gustav, believing the audio was fake and fabricated. After all, the education people had received and the history books taught that Bilbo Gustav was a great figure on par with Emperor Qin Feng, while the Starks and the Qin family were no better than traitors like Tyrell.

Sitting in the witness stand below the podium, Graydon’s face turned red as he shouted, “A lie repeated a thousand times doesn’t make it true, but a lie is still a lie! Every action leaves a trace!”

The room continued to hum with voices, and Graydon’s words were almost drowned out.

The judge at the podium struck his gavel. “Order! Order!”

The noise subsided.

The current Chief Justice lowered his head, his sharp gaze cutting through his glasses as he looked at Graydon. “Does the witness have any other evidence to present?”

Graydon puffed out his chest. “I do.” Carefully, he took a fragile piece of paper from the notebook he had brought with him. “I have a handwritten note from Emperor Qin Feng Anderson to my ancestor. Like the recording from earlier, it is from over seven hundred years ago. Although it has been carefully preserved, it is extremely fragile. Please be cautious — cautious with it during the examination.”

At the Chief Justice’s signal, the bailiff took the piece of paper. The small, yellowed sheet of paper had jagged, uneven edges, clearly torn hastily from a notebook. A messy line of writing covered the page: I have been poisoned, but the war waits for no one. I must go to the battlefield. You must investigate this thoroughly. Trusted individuals: Qin, Ti¹I guess it’s the Chinese surname of Tyrell (Ti).

The handwriting, upon careful inspection, could undoubtedly be identified as Emperor Qin Feng Anderson’s. It was written in his most familiar Chinese characters, though the content was rushed and lacking in detail—it was more of a stream of thought, characteristic of hurried writing under the pressure of war. Today, the Qin Feng Anderson Museum preserved some of the Emperor’s hurriedly written notes, and comparing them would confirm the authenticity of this one.

A gasp echoed through the room as the crowd’s expressions shifted when they looked at former Prime Minister Byron Gustav!

Shock, only shock.

Byron Gustav’s eyes widened slightly, a swirl of doubt clouding his mind—his ancestor had always been cautious and thorough; he would have ensured that any trace of evidence was completely erased. How could there be such an obvious note left behind?!

Bilbo had always been extremely meticulous in his actions, so much so that when Qin Hao, James Dalton, and others tried to find evidence, it was nearly impossible. But fate had a way of creating a major bug in history. With Ryan around, nothing could remain hidden. He had even once thought of writing dozens of “diaries” and selling them on the black market—surely the best way to get rich.

Standing at the highest point, looking down on the entire scene, Ryan let out a soft laugh, turning to leave the self-defense session with Auston.

Ryan whispered, “It’s been a long time since I wrote; I’m a bit out of practice.”

“I think it’s quite good.”

“With a bit of practice, you should be able to write even better.”

“I don’t think so. Too much practice would make it seem forced.”

“Mm, you’re right,” Ryan agreed unconditionally with Auston, especially since what he said was true.

After walking a few more steps, Auston called out, “Ryan.”

“Mm?”

Auston pursed his lips and made a small request. “Could you practice your handwriting a bit more?”

“Where else do I need to improve?” Ryan asked. It was just a matter of revisiting the handwriting he had deliberately adjusted after his rebirth. After all, he had written for so many years before, so picking it up again would be easy. But there weren’t many sheets of paper that matched Qin Feng Anderson’s habits, and the one he gave to Graydon was secretly torn from the notebook that Sierra had kept. Blank sheets like that were rare, and Sierra had treasured the notebook so much—he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to get his hands on another one.

Auston said, “Write me a letter.”

Ryan: “?!!” His mind was a complete jumble of thoughts.

Auston felt a bit embarrassed but still persistently voiced his request, “Just write something wishing me success in completing my studies and training tasks, and that I’ll become a man like my father, like the Emperor, someone who stands tall and strong.” It was a small obsession of his. When he was younger and training was hard, he would read books about Emperor Qin Feng’s youth, and the freedom, ease, and the unwavering confidence that he would succeed always inspired him.

Back then, Auston had always wished that the young Emperor from the books would appear in his life, to teach and accompany him.

Ryan paused, a bit at a loss, feeling some sympathy, but also reluctant to write the letter as an elder. Auston seemed to realize this and, after a brief hesitation, said, somewhat unwillingly and with a hint of sadness, “Forget it, don’t write it. Having you by my side is enough.”

“Who said I won’t write it?” Ryan gritted his teeth and tried to make himself agree more willingly. “I’ll write it when we get home.”

“Good.”

• ··

The evidence provided by Graydon was increasingly explosive, and no matter which angle the media took as a starting point, they could easily write dozens of headlines. The public, looking at the constant stream of new content on news websites, felt as if they weren’t watching breaking news, but were instead following a TV series that had been off the air for seven hundred years. The “series” had seemingly wrapped up perfectly in the past, but unexpectedly, the grand finale contained hidden secrets, and the foreshadowing planted centuries ago had now started to continue, writing a new chapter of the story.

Some netizens, feeling helpless yet finding it oddly fitting, left comments like: “The ‘TV series’ gap was too long, it outlasted several generations.”

Following the news and catching up on the latest hot topics had become the favorite pastime of the public, aside from the usual primetime soap operas. Public engagement was extremely high. This earth-shattering case reversal had developed in a way no one had expected. Even more unexpected was the headache it caused for professionals in history-related fields, especially history teachers.

In a sophomore history class at Newnes High School in the Storm Starfield, the topic being taught was the great achievements of Chief Justice Bilbo Gustav. The teacher described how Gustav inherited the will of Emperor Qin Feng, worked tirelessly to rebuild and reform, and developed the empire’s economy, culture, technology, and healthcare sectors, transforming a nation that had been ravaged by brutal wars and was once in ruins. In the chapter, Gustav was praised as being “on par with Emperor Qin Feng Anderson” in terms of his contributions.

In the end, the textbook described Chief Justice Gustav as someone who never took credit for his achievements and instead strongly supported the succession of Emperor Qin Feng’s younger brother as president to stabilize the nation’s morale, portraying this as a noble act “unprecedented in history, and unparalleled in the future.”

In light of current events, these descriptions now felt utterly repulsive.

“Teacher, did Chief Justice Gustav really do all that?”

“Teacher, my grandfather says that Justice Gustav stole Emperor Qin Feng’s achievements, claiming all the credit for himself. The textbooks were written by his family, and he told me to stay away from this nonsense.”

The students burst into laughter, with some even throwing their books. Of course, not having to study was the best.

The teacher standing at the podium looked bewildered, helplessly glancing at the textbook in his hands and then at the eager students waiting for answers. After steadying himself, he said, “Let’s skip this part of history. We won’t cover it until the dust settles.”

“Teacher, will the textbooks be revised in the future?”

The teacher replied, “I don’t know.” His knowledge felt unstructured, and he was thoroughly confused.

“Teacher, if they revise the textbooks, will we have to buy new ones?”

The empire’s welfare system was good, and education was free, but the cost of textbooks still had to be covered.

The teacher: “…”

These mischievous kids might find it amusing now, but they’ll soon discover how painful it is to retake history lessons. The teacher, left speechless by the carefree students, looked at their untroubled faces and had an ominous feeling that redoing the coursework was inevitable.

The overturn trial continued, and the entire empire remained fixated on the proceedings. With a directive signed by the interim prime minister, the special task force had unrestricted access to any materials. During the investigation, they uncovered just how many advantages the Gustav family had arranged for their own lineage. Even without delving into the events of seven centuries ago, the findings from the present alone were enough to send numerous individuals behind bars for life.

The storm swept downward from the top, triggering reforms within the government. As a result, more ambitious, idealistic, and capable youth from humble backgrounds stepped into positions of power. In a twisted sense, this rebuilding after destruction somewhat aligned with the Gustav family’s original long-term strategy.

…

Breaking News!!!

At home, sitting in the sunroom and staring at a blank sheet of paper, Ryan idly browsed the web. The bold, bright-red, and triple-exclamation-marked headline practically screamed for attention. Clicking in, Ryan quickly scanned the contents before turning to Auston, seated beside him.

“Confirmed?” he asked.

“Yes,” Auston replied with a nod, holding a long-eared bunny plush in his hands. “Once the defenses in the Capital Star Region were weakened, pirates seized the opportunity. Those ‘Starry insects’ were traced back to a man named Marshal, ostensibly a fabric merchant but actually an affiliate of the Red Spiders.”

“They’re declaring the discovery of a new starfield and the establishment of a so-called Free Nation,” Ryan said, his brows knitting together. This was no laughing matter; such a move could resonate with many within the empire. The nation was vast, and as the saying went, ‘the bigger the forest, the more kinds of birds you’ll find.’ Ryan had encountered all manner of strange and unusual individuals. He continued reading aloud, “The Red Spiders claim they could be annihilated a thousand, even ten thousand times, but their pursuit of freedom cannot be eradicated. They’re vowing to reveal the coordinates of the new starfield once their Free Nation is fully established, inviting all like-minded individuals to join in its construction. …This. Could they have drawn inspiration from the Beland Bus Station incident? Calling themselves Freedom Guardians, huh? The ‘Bird of Paradise’ organization is bound to be furious when they hear this!”

Connor had already contacted them. The “Bird of Paradise” organization was undergoing an internal purge. With government officials too preoccupied with their own issues, now was the perfect time to root out extremist elements from within.

“Red Spiders have a hidden base,” Auston said, absentmindedly swinging the bunny plush in his hand. Its long ears flopped back and forth, inadvertently catching the attention of Tuantuan, who was crawling around on the carpet. The little one seized the opportunity, reaching out to grab it with tiny hands. His grip wasn’t strong enough, though, so Auston remained blissfully unaware of the miniature tug-of-war unfolding beside him.

“The information comes from Admiral Tolkien,” Auston continued. “One of his informants managed to send out a final message before their death, detailing that the base is located on an uncharted imperial planet. Over ten thousand people are stationed there. That’s the true source of the Red Spiders’ strength. If we don’t eradicate that place, they’ll always have fresh forces to deploy.”

The sunroom was bathed in warm light, the faint scent of flowers perfuming the air. It wasn’t overly sweet—more of a crisp, refreshing fragrance, reminiscent of a freshly halved strawberry atop a cream cake.

“Do we have precise coordinates?” Ryan asked, his tone even but laced with curiosity.

Auston shook his head. “No. Admiral Tolkien was vague, though he made it clear the exact location remains unknown. What he did emphasize, however, is the necessity of collaboration. He’s pushing for a united front to completely dismantle these persistent pirates. And with this ‘major news’ now stirring the pot, it seems the time to strike is now.”

Ryan leaned back slightly, the weight of the situation evident in his eyes. “No coordinates, a hidden base, and a pirate faction doubling down on their so-called ‘freedom’ rhetoric… This could get complicated.”

Auston adjusted the bunny in his hand, finally noticing the tugging sensation. Looking down, he met Tuantuan’s determined gaze. A small chuckle escaped him as he gently loosened the plush from the toddler’s grip, letting him have it. “Complicated, yes. But necessary.”

“Have they confirmed the time yet?” Ryan calculated his own progress. It would be best if he could finish making the beast-shaped mecha before the operation, giving their side an added advantage. The superiority of beast-shaped mecha in combat was unmatched by ordinary mechanical mecha or biological mecha. Ryan could guarantee that equipping the army with it would significantly enhance their combat power.

“There’s no confirmed time yet. Maybe this month, maybe in a few months.”

“At least give me five months.” Five months was the minimum time Ryan needed to complete the beast-shaped mecha.

Auston understood Ryan’s meaning. “Don’t worry, the joint operation won’t happen so quickly. When I said next month, it was just an example. Besides, I have a biological mecha, so my strength is not weak.”

Suddenly, the rabbit plushie in Auston’s hand slipped from his grip. He wasn’t holding it too tightly, but it wasn’t a grip a small baby could easily break either. The two new fathers simultaneously looked at Tuantuan, who had plopped down on the floor holding the rabbit plushie. Tuantuan seemed a bit stunned. He was enthusiastically tugging on the rabbit’s ears, finding it especially fun to swing them around. He hadn’t expected to pull the rabbit out so suddenly.

“Ah~ ah~” After a brief moment of confusion, Tuantuan began laughing and handed the rabbit to his dad. Anything good had to be shared with Dad.