Facing the little girl who was silently shedding tears, Zhu Yuan opened his mouth, his throat seemingly glued shut, unable to make a sound for a long while.

He knew that although Bian Bian was young, she was very perceptive and had experienced her grandfather turning into a monster—she would be highly sensitive to such things. Precisely because she had been through it once, Zhu Yuan didn’t want her to go through it again.

He would rather leave Bian Bian with a worse impression of him, even to the point of her not liking him — that was fine.

“How could that be.” Zhu Yuan hardened his heart and put on a surprised expression, “Bian Bian, how could you think that?”

He awkwardly wiped Bian Bian’s tears; the rough fingers of an adult man had rubbed the little girl’s tender skin red. Seeing that, Zhu Yuan withdrew his hand and reached for a tissue instead.

Bian Bian pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Zhu Yuan added, “Bian Bian, I’m very sorry. It’s not that Uncle doesn’t want to take you to the base — Uncle has to go avenge, and being by my side would be very dangerous. It’s safer for you to stay here. After Uncle finishes avenging, I’ll come back to take you to the base.”

When an adult is determined to lie to a child, it’s actually easy to do.

Faced with Zhu Yuan’s gentle explanation, Bian Bian looked a little bewildered. She turned and hugged the little bear tightly to her chest; that action gave her some sense of security. Then she reached out with her other small hand and gently touched Zhu Yuan’s face. “Your face is so pale, and you were coughing so badly just now… Grandpa used to be like that too.” Her voice dropped.

Zhu Yuan grabbed her little hand, and in that moment, suddenly all the resentment and bitterness in his heart vanished.

He should have died long ago.

These past few days of warmth were nothing but stolen moments.

The only thing he should do now was to make sure Bianbian wouldn’t be sad for him.

“You silly Binbian,” Zhu Yuan smiled. “Have you forgotten that your uncle is injured?”

Then he put on a stern face and deliberately said, “Do you really want your uncle to turn into a monster?”

“No, I don’t.” Binbian hurriedly shook her head. At the same time, the words made her believe Zhu Yuan’s kindly lie. Once she was sure that Uncle Zhu wouldn’t become a monster, the little girl immediately relaxed.

Seeing that Binbian believed him, a look of relief flashed in Zhu Yuan’s eyes.

“But…” Once the fear that Uncle Zhu would turn into a monster was gone, Biānbiān had another worry. She cried out, “Can’t you heal your wounds at home and then go to the base to get revenge?”

Zhu Yuan had known she’d ask that. He stroked her head, took out a grade-three wind crystal, and said calmly, “Now that I have this, my wounds will heal quickly. And my enemy went to the base. If I wait even one more day, he’ll have a better chance of leaving the base, and then it will be very hard to find him.”

Biānbiān half understood.

“I have to go as soon as possible. I must find my enemy early if I want to get my revenge sooner.”

Now Bian Bian understood.

“Are you leaving right away?” Bian Bian asked, stifling a sob.

Zhu Yuan turned his gaze away and didn’t look into those clear, clean eyes. He only said, “Uncle promised you—after avenging you, he’ll come back to take you.”

The little one nodded obediently, then gave Zhu Yuan a sweet smile. When she smiled, it made people want to cup her in their hands and keep her from suffering even the slightest harm.

Zhu Yuan felt his eyes grow hot; the rate of his heartbeats in his chest was already quickening. He knew he had to leave immediately — the farther he went, the better.

He couldn’t, like Lu Yu, build a thick metal wall to shut himself in, preventing harm to BianBian while also protecting her in another way… He could only leave, and the farther he went, the better.

The farther he was from BianBian, the safer she would be.

Before leaving, Zhu Yuan took some time to carry all the remaining edible items from the downstairs supermarket up to the apartment.

“Biānbiān, when Uncle isn’t here, if you’re bored at home then practice properly… as long as you become strong, the monsters won’t dare come after you… I put the stove on the chair, you can boil water and cook by yourself, but be sure to be careful and use your ability to protect yourself…”

Zhu Yuan spoke somewhat confusedly; affected by the virus, his memory was disordered. Worried that Biānbiān would notice, he finally stopped talking, hugged her, gently kissed her forehead, and turned to leave.

“Uncle Zhu Yuan, I’ll wait for you to come back at home.” Biānbiān ran to the window. Downstairs, Zhu Yuan found a barely drivable little car, waved at the small figure at the window, then pressed the accelerator; the car lurched away out of her sight.

Biānbiān stretched her neck to watch, and after a long while she finally lowered her gaze, her bright eyes full of reluctance. But after a bit, she smiled happily again, tugged on her teddy bear’s arm, and said, “Uncle Zhu Yuan will come back after he avenges us. He’s so powerful—he’ll definitely be back soon.”

After processing the fact that Zhu Yuan had temporarily left, Bian Bian turned her attention to that invisible uncle.

This invisible uncle had helped her, and she still hadn’t said thank you.

“Uncle, are you still here?” Gazing at the empty living room, Bian Bian piped up cautiously, a little curious and a little nervous.

No response.

Bian Bian nervously bit his little finger, then suddenly pointed at the cup on the table: “Uncle, if you’re here, move the cup a bit.”

A minute passed, and the cup still stood in place, not shifted at all.

Bian Bian drooped his little head a bit forlornly — it turned out that this invisible uncle had also left.

His glimmering, glass-clear eyes gradually dimmed, as if the crystalline clarity had lost its original luster.

The sun sank in the west, dusk spreading dim and vast. As usual, Biānbiān lit the candles and drew the metal curtains; the room grew dark.

It was very quiet. Not a whisper could be heard, as if everything were dead silent.

Biānbiān rubbed her little belly; after a bowl of fried apples she wasn’t very hungry.

Before Zhu Yuan came, Biānbiān would wash up early, lie down, chat with Huīhuī for a while, then close her eyes and fall asleep.

However, after living with Zhu Yuan for a few days, once he left and Bian Bian returned to her previous life, she suddenly felt out of sorts.

She hugged the little bear and lay in bed, replaying the image of that corpse-beast from earlier in her mind—the more she thought about it, the scarier it became, even though at the time she hadn’t been afraid at all.

“Gray Gray, I’m scared.” In the quiet room a thin, choking sob sounded. “I miss Grandpa.”

The little bear couldn’t offer Bian Bian words of comfort, but its mere presence was a kind of strength to her.

Holding the little bear and crying for a while, Biandian lifted her small hand to wipe away her tears, got out of bed, and lit a few more candles at once; the room brightened immediately.

“Huīhuī, I want to go see Grandpa.”

Mentioning Grandpa gave Biandian courage again.

She held the little bear in one arm and a candle in the other, opened the door, and the entire staircase was pitch-black, impossible to see a hand in front of her face. As the door opened, the faint light spilled out, giving the stairwell a dim glow.

Bian Bian walked up to the metal wall, set the candlestick on the ground, and when he looked up again, he was delighted to find that the bowl full of food that had been left at the cave entrance was now empty.

The meal I had brought Grandpa that day was untouched when I went to check on it the next day.

which meant Grandpa wouldn’t eat any of it.

But Biān Biān still didn’t give up bringing food to Grandpa.

In the past few days whenever Zhù Yuān cooked, Biān Biān would scoop a bowl and set it at the cave entrance—just in case Grandpa ate it.

Zhù Yuān not only didn’t stop her from what he saw as wasting food, he actually encouraged it.

So the bowl’s empty now—doesn’t that mean Grandpa ate it all?

“Grandpa.” Holding the empty bowl, Bian Bian called out happily.

In the quiet surroundings, her “Grandpa” sounded unusually loud, echoing through the stairwell, and was immediately followed by heavy footsteps from within the metal walls.

Then came the familiar impact.

The terrifying thuds in the dim space would have made an ordinary person’s legs go weak with fear, but Bian Bian strangely found a sense of safety in those blows.

She felt very relieved, at least more so than when she returned to the room.

So, BianBian sat down against the vibrating metal wall, hugging the little bear to the corner of the metal wall, curling up into a ball, and fell asleep peacefully amid the tremors.

Inside the metal wall, the zombies that had been banging against it stopped. Their dull, sullen eyes showed no emotion, turning mechanically.

Following the faint light coming through the hole, he walked over, staring at the opening for a full thirty seconds, then looked away, picked up a bottle of mineral water that BianBian had shoved in earlier, unscrewed the cap, and gulped the whole bottle down in a few swallows.

Holding the empty bottle, he stood there as if he had forgotten what to do next.

He stood there until he felt something, then suddenly grew restless and began banging against the wall again, striking it much faster than before.

*

Nong Jiu Si soaked in a huge hot spring pool, the surrounding walls inlaid with countless luxurious jewels; even the phrase “resplendent with gems” couldn’t begin to describe the bath’s extravagance.

Dragons love shiny things.

It’s in their nature.

He wanted to collect anything that glittered, and on this point, Nong Jiusi took it to the extreme.

All the palaces of the Dragon Clan were built from all sorts of shining jewels――they were what he had “harvested” from various planets.

For example, the NR virtual device: Nong Jiusi had actually gotten it from an interstellar thief, drawn to its appearance, because it would emit a buling-buling sparkle in the sunlight that pleased him.

The space thief knew he was done for, having fallen into Nong Jiusi’s hands. To save his life, he produced the NR device and praised it with a string of extravagant, fanciful compliments, making it sound utterly miraculous.

Nong Jiusī liked its glittering shell, waved his hand, and let the star thief go.

…..

So, he didn’t really understand NR devices. Earlier he had tried it casually, stumbled onto a game, and when the game disconnected automatically his interest waned and he left it alone.

Now soaking in the hot spring, it suddenly occurred to him, so he asked Nong Tang to fetch it, intending to study it further to see whether it was really as miraculous as the star thief claimed.

He hadn’t expected that the moment he opened it, a projection automatically appeared before his eyes displaying the words “Logging in.”

Nong Jiusi: “?”

System: [Welcome, you are now logged in.]

System: [As her father, please provide Bian Bian with a good living environment to help her grow. Keep it up.]

Nong Jiusi: “…”

So it was that game from before, and it logged in automatically?

He had no interest in playing a dumb pet-raising game; ignoring the system prompt, he was about to quit the game.

The screen abruptly shifted, and he saw the little guy called Bianbian curled up in a corner.

Nong Jiusi raised an eyebrow.

The candles on the candlestick were two-thirds burned down. On the ground beside the little one lay a filthy, ragged teddy bear; the red thread sewn onto its arm was so ugly Nong Jiusi looked away, lest it offend his eyes.

Looking at the little one again, her eyes tightly shut, face flushed, hair at her forehead damp with sweat, sticking wetly to her skin. She looked very unwell.

Nong Jiusi frowned, squatted down, examined her carefully for a few seconds, then reached out his slender index finger and poked the little one.

The little one collapsed with a sound.

Nong Jiusi: “…”

A speaker emerged from the metal wall; he tapped it open, and a crashing noise exploded in his ears.

A momentary recollection brought to mind the prelude shown before the game: Bian Bian’s grandfather had been infected and turned into a zombie, then used his metal-based ability to build a metal wall around himself to avoid hurting his granddaughter.

From that, it follows that the one repeatedly battering against the metal wall was Lu Yu, who had become a zombie.

Nong Jiu Si stared at Bian Bian.

What on earth was this little one thinking.

Sleeping here in the middle of the night — isn’t she afraid a zombie will crawl out and eat her?

[Player Two, please note: Bian Bian’s current temperature is 38.9°C and she has a fever. You now have two choices.]

[1. Physically reduce the fever, ensuring Bian Bian’s safety.]

[2. Let it progress; if the fever continues to 43°C, there is a 50% chance she will awaken an ability, and a 50% chance she will die.]

[Please choose.]

Facing the two options [Physical Cooling] and [Let It Run Its Course], Nong Jiusi said casually, “If I choose the second option and the little girl eventually dies, what happens next?”

System: [You will lose the right to raise Bian Bian, Bian Bian will die, and the game will end.]

“Can’t I choose again?”

[No.]

Nong Jiu thought for two seconds, then decisively rose from the bath, wrapped a towel tightly around his waist, and walked over to Bian Bian’s side through the projection.

A forty-three degree fever — a fifty percent chance of awakening an ability… that probability was actually pretty high, but it was unnecessary.

Most importantly, watching the little one’s pained expression up close because of the fever was too real; Nong Jiu couldn’t choose to “let it run its course.”

What if the awakening failed? Would he have to stand there and watch the little one get “burned” to death by the high temperature?

Even in a game, he didn’t want to see this.

…..

Staring at the tiny little thing, Nong Jiusi wore a strange expression, and finally, with stiff movements, picked up the little one.

Lord Jiusi, who had never held a child before, was forced to hold a child in the game; the feeling was utterly unfamiliar to him.

His first time ended up being for a game.

Nong Jiusu, like a puppet, held the child and walked to the door of the third floor, but was stopped by an invisible force that would not let him enter.

—Because Bianbian was on the stairs, not in the living room, he could not get into the house.

“…”

He lowered his head; the little one’s body in his arms trembled constantly, and his small face was even redder than before.

He turned and walked downstairs, but upon reaching the next floor he was again stopped by an invisible force, unable to pass through.

Nong Jiu Si narrowed his long eyes; he wanted to help the little one cool down physically, but he couldn’t enter the room or leave the complex—only allowed on the third-floor stairwell. Where was he supposed to cool the little one down?

Take off his clothes?

Dragons are born strong; for them, the word “sickness” doesn’t really exist, but Nong Jiu Si still had basic common sense.

When humans have a fever, taking off clothes to cool down doesn’t seem to help.

Medicine?

He instinctively opened the store—everything was greyed out.

[Please note, Bianbian’s temperature has reached 39.1°C. You have chosen physical cooling; if no further measures are taken and the fever reaches 40°C, irreversible damage will be caused to Bianbian.]

Niu Jiusi decisively returned to the third floor, brow furrowed as he stood facing the door.

The next second, the action of hugging the edge with both hands changed to a one-handed hold; the freed right hand clenched into a fist and lightly hurled itself at the invisible barrier at the doorway.

[Yun Sick―]

[System malfunctioning…]

[System repairing…]

[System repair successful.]

Retracting his hand, the invisible barrier vanished, and Nong Jiusi carried Bianbian into the room.

System: [… ]

In the end there was no more sound, as if it had accepted that Nong Jiusi’s single punch had broken the rule barrier.

Facing the narrow, dim, utterly unappealing house, Nong Jiusi tightened his brow, his expression betraying undisguised disdain. He put Biandian on the sofa, tapped his left wrist, and a few seconds later, Nong Tang, having received the command, hurried in.

“Sir.”

He wasn’t surprised to see Nong Jiusi wrapped in a towel standing in the projection.

Nong Jiusi pointed at Biandian: “The little one’s got a fever. How do we cool them down physically?”

Nong Tang was surprised by how seriously his master took a game character, but he dared not be negligent. Still, dragons really were clueless about physical cooling.

He rubbed his dragon horns and hesitated, “Soak her in water?”

Nong Jiu thought Nong Tang made sense, so he filled a basin with water and, like planting a radish, put little Bianbian into it.

The splash of cold water jolted Bianbian awake, groggy, and she murmured unconsciously, feeling comfortable.

Seeing a speaker icon appear above the little one’s head, Nong Jiu Si raised his hand and tapped it.

“Daddy…” The soft, tender voice sounded in his ear, like a feather gently brushing the tip of his heart.

Lord Jiu Si’s casually indifferent expression froze.