Chapter 21 Part 2

“…Ah, forget it. Actually, I wasn’t that upset.” Deng Yuliang’s expression quickly returned to normal. “Oh right, when we were chatting before, why did you totally ignore people? Your roommates say you don’t really talk to them either…”

“Which time?” Li Zhuo asked, then added, “You guys were talking. It wouldn’t be right for an outsider like me to just butt in randomly, would it.”

“……”

“What if I disturbed you? And all that stuff you talked about—top lane, bot lane, heroes, tribes, battle royale—I didn’t really get it anyway. If I suddenly said something weird, you’d be annoyed too, wouldn’t you?”

“……”

Silence.

A deathly silence.

It was the close contact over these past few days and nights that finally had an effect. A few classmates from Class 10 tentatively chimed in.

“Isn’t that how it was? I always thought you just didn’t want to talk to people like us.”

“Yeah, a lot of people said you were some rich young master from a wealthy family in Hai City, that you looked down on us here, that’s why you always kept to yourself…”

Liao Guang, who had unintentionally helped Li Zhuo out on the bus before, hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and said to Li Zhuo, “Sorry… I had some misunderstandings about you before…”

The truth was, after transferring to Changyang, Li Zhuo’s image in others’ eyes was indeed that of a rich young master.

After all, he transferred from Hai City, and his previous school was very famous. Moreover, even a casual scarf he wore was a recognizable brand name, and his shoes were designer. He did seem somewhat out of place in the dusty, shabby environment of Changyang.

So naturally, his lone-wolf behavior—not mingling with classmates, never speaking to them—became synonymous with arrogance.

Now even students from other classes realized: it seemed he didn’t disdain playing with them; the mutual misunderstanding had simply run too deep.

Laughter broke out here and there. Deng Yuliang laughed the loudest, doubling over and accidentally spilling another classmate’s drink.

“Forget it, since it was all a misunderstanding, let’s not mention it. Quick, quick, I just happened to bring a camera, let’s take a photo? Perfect timing, since we head back tomorrow afternoon.”

~

【Our civilization rarely has this…】

Without the System initiating a query, Mo Liang still rarely brought up his own world.

【My kind don’t live together. After the initial survival crisis, we separately left our home planet, each claiming a territory, rapidly dividing and reproducing. The offspring bodies we generate would clear out and assimilate any unyielding natives of the planet, leaving behind only those who see us as gods and vassals…】

【Of course, I’m a bit different from them. I can’t generate offspring bodies, so on my planet, it was only me… very, very quiet…】

【Oh, and my child.】

The System emitted a faint glow.

【As long as I have my child, it’s enough. But perhaps, I’m not enough for him.】

【■■■■■■…】

Even with nearly ten million languages stored in the System, it couldn’t parse the meaning of that last sentence. It was clear that each symbol condensed countless characters.

His form, hidden in mid-air, remained motionless, his gaze locked onto a certain human in the distance from start to finish. That human was now surrounded by his peers, having shed his initial stiffness and nervousness, gradually beginning to blend in.

A bunch of sixteen to eighteen-year-old kids really knew how to stir up a ruckus. Even in a mountain wilderness with no typical entertainment, they could come up with activities like storytelling sessions, hand-shadow shows, idiom chains, and backgammon.

Not only did this surprise the accompanying camp staff, but the System also silently began collecting this valuable data and material for him.

This time, Mo Liang’s smile was no longer that standard smile as precisely measured as if with a protractor. It was a grin, the corners of his mouth splitting to nearly half his face—a ‘smile’ that didn’t really qualify as one at all.

【Is this a little more enjoyable?】

In his completely black pupils was the tiny reflection of another human youth. His breathing, his pulse, the friction between his strands of hair—all so crystal clear.

【Perhaps a little.】

The System’s light flared for an instant, then gradually dimmed into an ordinary sphere.

【……】

~

The sky gradually darkened. As one student after another in the “tent encampment” fell asleep, the mountain forest, save for the occasional crackling from the burning bonfires, was completely drowned in silence.

When Li Zhuo quietly slipped out of his tent, his watch read 01:38 AM.

He threw on a jacket and, relying on the light from his cell phone’s flashlight and the moon overhead, headed toward the stream where they had caught fish and crabs during the day.

Along the way, he involuntarily recalled the day’s events, an experience known only to him:

At that time, he was trying to pick a type of mushroom that grew on rock faces, preferring damp, shady environments. Though flat and inconspicuous—people unfamiliar often mistook them for dead leaves—these mushrooms were a highly nutritious mountain delicacy, a good edible find.

He saw them and naturally wanted to pick as many as possible to fry later.

The seventeen-year-old, agile as a mountain cat, twisted his waist and clambered up, using both hands and feet. Just as he was about to reach them, a patch of moss underfoot caused him to lose his footing instantly.

In the other students’ eyes, it just looked like Li Zhuo was incredibly nimble, just like when he climbed trees—up in a flash. So impressive!

Only Li Zhuo himself knew that, in that instant when he stepped on the moss and was about to slip, he felt something support his lower back. The touch, like silk soaked in ice water, vanished as quickly as it came.

There were many other similar moments…

It seemed that ever since he entered the summer camp, from the moment he stepped off the bus, something invisible had been lurking beside him. Or maybe even earlier, back at school…

He had reached his destination.

A bright full moon hung high in the sky, its reflection in the shallow stream shimmering with fragmented light. Li Zhuo rolled up his pant legs and stepped into the icy stream water.

Just as he deliberately tilted a cobblestone and the water was about to go past his knees, that transparent substance indeed appeared, supporting his lower back and gently lifting him.

In complete defiance of gravity and all laws of science and physics, he slowly floated up, then landed steadily.

It was still that icy touch.

Invisible… intangible.

Back on the bank, the first thing Li Zhuo did was press his phone screen to check the signal bars at the top. Sure enough, just like during the day, there was a tiny bit of signal in open areas.

This faint signal was a source of constant complaint for the camp students. They grumbled that it was useless—if there’s going to be none, then have none—what good was this tiny bit? You couldn’t play online games, and even sending a message took forever.

But for Li Zhuo, it was enough.

He unlocked the screen, opened his contacts, found the number listed under 【M】, saved as Teacher Mo, and dialed. A dial tone came from the earpiece.

The ringtone sounded from the pitch-black forest nearby.

Unlike many young people who set all sorts of quirky ringtones, this sound was the default phone ringtone—a mechanical ring mimicking a traditional landline phone, mixed with a high-frequency continuous vibration.

“Riiing— Riiing—”

“Ring, ring, ring—”

The sound seemed both far away and very close.

“Ring, ring, ring—”

After seven or eight seconds, the ringing stopped.

Li Zhuo looked at his phone screen. Battery: 46%. The signal was gone, but the call was connected, showing a call in progress.

—00:06

Silence came from the earpiece, just like the pitch-black mountain forest not far away. He couldn’t see what was inside, but his intuition screamed that a pair of eyes was tightly watching his every move.

A gust of mountain wind blew. Li Zhuo, who felt no cold whatsoever, swallowed a mouthful of saliva. His gaze fixed on the deep forest, he tried his best to make his voice sound calm.

“Teacher… Teacher Mo, is that you?”

The voice that came through the receiver was as gentle as he remembered. Just hearing his voice seemed to conjure an image of him with a constant smile on his lips.

It was as if no matter when you looked at Teacher Mo, that exact expression was always on his face, the upward curve of his lips exactly the same every time.

His eyes slightly narrowed, his whole being exuding a gentle aura that seemed to say, “I really am a good person,” “I truly won’t hurt you.”

“What is it? Did you miss me?”

Li Zhuo didn’t answer immediately,

but questions were thrown at him one after another from the other end.

“This is the first time you’ve ever called me…”

“I’m very happy. Yes, just like this. No matter when it is, whenever you need me, if you just call me, I will definitely answer…”

“Are you having fun at the summer camp?”

Li Zhuo gave an “Mm,” and said, “It’s okay.”

Silence from the other end. A few seconds later, when the voice spoke again, it carried a distinct trace of amusement.

“Listening to your voice like this, it feels a little different than hearing it face-to-face. What about you? Does my voice sound different compared to before?”

Li Zhuo thought for a moment. “A little, but not much. Does mine sound very different?”

“That depends on how you define difference. Sound transmitted through air versus converted to electrical signals, then encoded and decoded, naturally differs. The frequency, maybe…”

“But that’s not important. As long as it’s your voice, I find it pleasant to hear…”

Li Zhuo gave another “Mm.”

“Why are you still outside so late? It’s so cold, what if you catch a cold? Go back now, be good and go to sleep.”

Li Zhuo fell silent again.

He had been terrified of the dark as a child—pitch-black deep wells, dark rooms, and the sunless deep mountains. But now, alone in the mountains at night, he inexplicably felt a surge of courage.

Unknowingly, the call time was approaching twenty minutes. Li Zhuo looked up at the bright moon above and the sparse scattering of stars.

“I want to see you.” He paused. “I’m not afraid, and I won’t tell anyone. Is that okay?”

Silence from the other end for three seconds, maybe five.

“Alright. Whatever you ask, I will agree to…”

A rustling sound gradually approached from the depths of the dense, dark forest.

~

【Turn it off!! Shut it off now!】

【What are you doing?!】

【Why did you answer the phone?!】

【How did you even get on a call?!】

【Damn it, what are you doing? You want to go out?】

【NO!!!!】

The light on the System’s body flickered rapidly, short-circuiting, urgently trying to interrupt Mo Liang’s actions, but to no avail.

【When I detected him dialing, didn’t I tell you to block the sound in advance? Why didn’t you turn it off? Why did you answer his call…】

【Why would I turn it off.】

While speaking with Li Zhuo, Mo Liang pulled aside a sliver of consciousness to communicate with the System.

【This is the first time my child has ever called me. I truly cannot find a reason not to answer.】

【My child wants to see me, makes a request of me, and I also very much want to see him. So what’s the problem?】

【………】

The System, seemingly overwhelmed by the situation, flickered for a moment, then stopped.

【Judging by the mission target’s reaction, he’s already figured out your non-human identity. That trip to the stream just now was a test…】

Mo Liang had already arrived at the stream. But since he hadn’t dropped his disguise, his child clearly didn’t know he was right in front of him and was still staring towards the forest depths.

“So cute…”

Mo Liang unconsciously moved closer, close enough that without adjusting his sight, he could already see the texture and pores of Li Zhuo’s skin.

Perhaps feeling the faint air current near his face, Li Zhuo began scanning the empty space before him, unsure where to look.

“…Is that you? Teacher Mo.”

Mo Liang slowly materialized the human guise he often showed Li Zhuo, revealing the same smile he used to have when watching him eat. “What a clever child. When did you realize?”

Under the moonlight, Mo Liang hadn’t fully perfected his human disguise in his haste. The black part of his eyes was clearly disproportionate.

Such strange eyes, in the deep mountains, under the stark white moonlight and the occasional howling night wind—at first glance, it was truly frightening.