Lin Zichen spent more than an hour in Yuan Dongzhi’s office, talking at length about the Divine Plant Cult and the major figures in the country.

They chatted until roughly 10 p.m. then he and Shen Qinghan dragged their respective suitcases home.

The campus at 10 p.m. during winter break was peaceful and quiet.

Walking along the campus road, you could hardly see any students.

There was only the night wind, brushing past their faces with a cool, comfortable touch.

“Xiao Chen, the school is so quiet—none of the usual bustle.”

“That’s normal. It’s still winter break; everyone’s gone home for the New Year.”

If it were summer vacation, many students would choose to stay on campus to study or take missions for credits.

But it was winter break: short and with the Spring Festival in the middle. Few students stayed.

“Xiao Chen, for the past half month of special training I slept alone every night. I’m really not used to it. Can I sleep at your place tonight?”

“Then come over and sleep together.”

“It’s settled, then. I’ll head home, eat, shower and come over.”

“Mm. Before bed I’ll project my Vitality to warm your feet.”

They chatted as they strolled and soon each returned to their own home.

Lin Zichen took out the key, opened the door and rolled his suitcase inside.

The whole apartment was dark.

Only the writing room was lit.

Standing in the entryway corridor, he could clearly hear the clacking of a keyboard from the writing room.

Even though their son was already so capable and the family hardly lacked money, his parents were still writing novels late at night just like before.

You could only call that love for the craft.

He changed into indoor slippers.

Dragged his suitcase into his room and set it down.

Then he went to the writing room door and knocked lightly, “Dad, Mom, I’m back.”

“Hm? Our son’s back?” Lin Yansheng’s puzzled voice came from inside.

Moments later, the door opened and Lin Yansheng and Zhang Wanxin came out.

Seeing Lin Zichen in the hallway, Lin Yansheng frowned, “Wasn’t the special training supposed to be a month? How are you back after just half a month?”

“Special training ended early.”

At that, Lin Yansheng’s brows knit, “Did something happen?”

“No, it’s just that this cohort was particularly outstanding and finished the special-training goals ahead of schedule, so we came back early.”

Lin Zichen delivered the reason he’d prepared in advance.

“Never seen that before.” Lin Yansheng looked like he was witnessing a rare phenomenon.

Zhang Wanxin didn’t have so many questions—only concern, “If you were coming back early, why didn’t you call first? I could have made you something good.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“More like give me a scare.”

Zhang Wanxin scolded him half playfully, “Showing up late at night without a word—anyone would think it was a burglar.”

“Mom, you’re overthinking it. You live in Shanhai University’s family housing building—security checks everywhere. Even if a thief could fly, they wouldn’t get in.”

“Since you’re back so late, I assume you haven’t eaten. What do you want? I’ll cook now.”

“Just fried rice vermicelli.”

“How can you only eat fried rice vermicelli? At home, you should eat well.”

She headed for the fridge as she spoke, “Alright, I’ll make cold cucumber salad, tomato-and-egg stir-fry, soy-braised chicken and bitter melon stewed ‘dragon-bone’ soup—and some steamed aberrant-beast meat. Dean Liu at the institute sent over several jin of Ice Crystal Shrimp yesterday. They’re in the freezer—perfect time to steam some for you.”

These were all soups and dishes Lin Zichen liked.

And the ingredients happened to be on hand.

* * *

Near 11 p.m., the food was done.

Four dishes and a soup.

The family of three sat down to eat together.

His parents had already eaten dinner, so they treated this as a late-night snack.

“Here, try this Ice Crystal Shrimp.”

Smiling, Zhang Wanxin put one in Lin Zichen’s bowl, “Don’t be fooled that it’s been frozen—the flavor’s still fresh, sweeter even than regular live shrimp.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“By the way, has Hanhan eaten yet? Go call her to come over and eat together.”

“No need, Mom—she’s eating at home. She just sent me a bunch of food pics on WeChat. They also made a big plate of Ice Crystal Shrimp and asked me to go over.”

Peeling a shrimp unhurriedly, Lin Yansheng said, “Wanxin, don’t keep asking Hanhan over. She has her own parents. If you keep bringing her here, Xu Meng and Old Shen won’t feel great about it. Especially tonight—she just got home. Xu Meng and Old Shen haven’t seen her for half a month and must miss her terribly. If you drag her over now, they’ll want to chew you out.”

“…You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”

It was rare for Zhang Wanxin to not argue; she conceded he had a point. No matter how much she treated Hanhan like her own daughter, she wasn’t her real mother—her best friend Xu Meng was. Dragging Hanhan over all the time did overlook how Shen Jianye and Xu Meng might feel.

‘Mm, better be mindful in the future…’

She placed another shrimp in Lin Zichen’s bowl and beamed, “Xiao Chen, I have good news.”

“What good news?”

“You’re going to have a little brother or sister.”

“Huh?”

Lin Zichen froze, not quite processing it for a moment.

‘A little brother or sister? Mom’s pregnant with a second child?’

Once he caught up, he looked straight at Zhang Wanxin’s abdomen.

It was flat—no sign of pregnancy yet.

Maybe it was still early; no bump.

“Mom, you’re having a second child?”

“Mm-hm. Almost half a month now—we just confirmed it a few days ago.”

She stroked her still-flat belly, face full of expectation, “We already have a little man in the house. I hope this time we get a little beloved daughter.”

‘So she really was pregnant…’

It felt sudden to Lin Zichen—even more sudden than if Shen Qinghan had said she might be pregnant.

After all, Zhang Wanxin was already in her forties—just a few years and she could be a grandma. Getting pregnant out of the blue like this was surprising.

By the time the baby was born, Lin Zichen would be twenty.

With such a big age gap, he could practically be a dad.

Sipping soup, Lin Yansheng said, “Once you and Hanhan started university, the house got too quiet. Your mom and I couldn’t get used to it. We wanted a grandchild but didn’t know how long we’d have to wait. So we decided to try for a second child while we’re only just over forty and it’s still possible. Took about two and a half months of trying and—success.”

“…I see.”

Lin Zichen nodded. He didn’t have strong feelings about his parents having another child. As long as they were happy, never mind a second—three, four, five would be fine.

They weren’t strapped for cash. His parents didn’t need to hustle to feed the family. They could afford however many they liked.

Having a little one around would make the home livelier. Not bad at all.

* * *

11:45 p.m.

Lin Zichen finished eating and showered, then lounged on the bed scrolling news on his phone.

Soon after, Shen Qinghan—also fed and showered—came over in pale pink pajamas to sleep with him.

“Xiao Chen, Aunt Xin is actually pregnant with a second child!”

Kicking off her slippers and sitting on the bed, she spoke with genuine surprise.

Lin Zichen laughed, “My parents are desperate for a grandchild and can’t wait for us, so they took matters into their own hands.”

“What do you want—little sister or little brother?”

“I’m fine with either, but my parents are definitely rooting for a girl.”

“That makes sense. They already have you, so of course they want a ‘little girl’ to experience a different kind of child-rearing. Xiao Chen, when we get married in the future, is it better to have a son or a daughter first?”

“Let’s go for dragon-and-phoenix twins—one of each.”

“Then which first—son or daughter?”

She wavered, “An older brother with a younger sister sounds sweet, but so does an older sister with a younger brother. Ugh, I can’t decide. And what will the son be named? The daughter? So many things to consider. Especially caring for a baby—that seems really hard. When I was a baby, I kept wetting myself. My mom says I was a handful.”

“…Even when you’re not a baby, you ‘keep wetting your pants.’”

“You jerk—are you looking for a beating!”

She “furiously” swatted him in mock punishment for the slander.

Then she murmured, “When Aunt Xin has her baby at the end of the year, I’m going to learn from her—practice how to be a mom in advance.”

She was thinking a bit too far ahead.

They were only freshmen and she was already thinking about motherhood.

Lin Zichen chuckled, “No need to practice on purpose. When the time comes, you’ll find there’s hardly anything left for you to do. My parents and yours will fight to take over.”

“Really?”

She sounded skeptical.

“Don’t underestimate retirees’ desire for grandkids—especially in one-child families like ours. Once they get older and have more free time, that desire goes wild.”

“...Is that so?”

She didn’t have much of a feel for it; her parents had never nagged her about giving them a grandchild.

Then she put her soft, fair foot on his hand, voice playful and syrupy, “Daddy, warm your good girl’s feet, please.”

“You little minx—you’re addicted to calling me that now, huh?”

Grinning, he took her jade-like foot and released Vitality to warm it, indulging her small request.

“Don’t accuse me. I’m not addicted. It’s just you boys like being called that, so I say it for you.”

“Your mouth tastes soft, but your words are hard.”

“You’re the hard-mouthed one!”

Pouting, she protested.

He pinched her small mouth, then stopped teasing her.

* * *

They kept chatting—about childhood, the present and the future. Whatever came to mind, they talked about, as if there were endless topics.

Eventually they circled back to the day’s attack by the Divine Plant Cult.

They talked about the whisper Shen Qinghan heard, the giant hand of the sea, the Ninth Elder’s demise and the mysterious water droplets that had hovered around her.

Lin Zichen cared a lot about those droplets.

As those droplets drifted past her, they seemed to change into shapes that looked like writing.

Thinking back now—were they trying to convey a message to her?

He got out of bed to fetch a pen and scratch paper. Relying on his superb memory, he copied every droplet-shape he’d seen.

He hadn’t realized it at the time, but once he drew them out, the shapes really did resemble some kind of script.

He picked several of the neater ones, took photos and uploaded them to the internet to see if anything would come up.

Unfortunately, nothing turned up.

‘So they weren’t a script? Just meaningless, random shapes? No—that didn’t make sense. They had to be conveying something or have special meaning.’

If the internet couldn’t help, then he’d ask people who had seen more of the world.

A lot of material online isn’t public. Things few people know generally require asking the right people.

He sent the photos he’d just uploaded—one set each—to Yuan Dongzhi, Song Yuyan and Liu Chuanwu.

The first had a prominent family background and might recognize these mysterious symbols.

The latter two were researchers who had studied many artifacts unearthed from ruins, so the odds weren’t bad.

A few minutes later.

Yuan Dongzhi and Song Yuyan replied in quick succession.

The speed was encouraging; the content was not.

Both said they didn’t recognize the symbols.

“That leaves the dean…” Lin Zichen muttered.

* * *

An hour later.

Shen Qinghan had fallen asleep, curled quietly in his arms, breathing sweet and steady.

He wasn’t sleepy—still scrolling news.

Near 1:30 a.m. Liu Chuanwu replied.

Lin Zichen opened the chat at once. It was a voice message, not text.

Thirty-eight seconds long.

That length screamed “results.”

So as not to wake Shen Qinghan, he grabbed his earbuds.

Once they were in, he eagerly tapped play to hear what Liu had to say.

“Where did you see these symbols? They feel familiar. But I can’t place them right away. Thinking about it, I might have seen them on some artifacts at the institute. Tell you what—tomorrow morning I’ll go back to the institute and check for you. I’ll ping you on WeChat if I find anything.”

Liu Chuanwu sounded a little breathless, like he was out for a run.

Listening closely, Lin Zichen could just make out crisp clapping and a faint woman’s cheer in the background, “Go, Old Liu! Keep it up! One shot, a million; ten in a row, twenty million!”

Hearing the cheering, Lin Zichen’s mouth twitched.

‘Seriously? He couldn’t pause his ‘work’ even to send a voice message? Multitasking much?’

He grumbled inwardly—then couldn’t help admiring Liu.

What a workhorse of a dean.

To win sponsorships for the institute, he was out every night getting ‘exercise’ with his old flame.

It was the sort of dedication that left men speechless and brought women to tears—worthy of a spot among Jiuzhou’s Top Ten Most Moving People.