Chapter 34 Part 2

“Eccentric” was the unanimous label the staff had for him. At this moment, however, the sharp edge around Mr. Mo had quietly faded. His brows and eyes were full of gentleness and affection, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Beside him walked a young man with an upright posture. No one knew what they were discussing, but Mr. Mo would occasionally lean slightly sideways, focusing intently on the young man’s words. Their stance was intimate, radiating a warm and cozy vibe.

“The young master seems a little taller than last year,” someone muttered softly.

“Should be. Another year has passed, after all.”

0255 departed on an ordinary morning. Before leaving, it efficiently submitted its mission calculation.

【Mission Assessment in Progress——】

A dense mass of characters flashed by rapidly. All of it was data related to Li Zhuo.

It included his height, weight, body fat percentage, happiness metrics, his highest joy value, and the results of countless simulated future projections. Green “Qualified” markers gradually appeared after nearly every line.

【Assessment Result: Qualified.】

【Mission Rating: Good.】

【System ID: 0255】

The rating not being “Excellent” was something 0255 had already guessed. It even thought “Good” was quite impressive; it had expected a “Poor,” given how many rules Mo Liang had broken.

The mission target this time was a kind, soft-hearted youth. But that petty monster was a different story.

Mo Liang remembered the names and information of every single person who had ever hurt his child or made his child sad. His methods of retaliation were extremely subtle. Summed up in one line: he took away what they cared about most.

His actions, which interfered with the Small World, caused too many point deductions. The remaining bonus points were almost entirely contributed by Li Zhuo, whose growth was plain for all to see.

That timid teenager who once felt anxious over being just a little late for class had grown into a handsome young man, straight as a pine. He would never again be nervous just because someone was watching him. Confidence allowed him to navigate any situation with ease.

An unbound mission target couldn’t see the System. Still, 0255 said goodbye to Li Zhuo. The transparent ball of light flickered.

【Goodbye——】

Li Zhuo wasn’t asleep yet at the time. Dressed in comfortable loungewear, he lay on the sofa, playing on his phone. He had just opened his high school class group page.

Since graduation, the group hadn’t been this lively for a while. It was end of the year, evening was the most active time, and classmates were sharing their current situations, discussing when to hold a class reunion.

【Hey, I remember last time I saw our class’s young master, the news was talking him up so much. I didn’t really understand the stuff about that membrane thing later, but it sounded kinda awesome. Seems like he’s going to receive some award? [Confused]】

【It’s pretty incredible, almost revolutionary impact. If it gets applied in the future, it can be used in tons of fields—biomedical, energy, electronics…】

【I don’t get most of it, but I asked a relative who works at a hospital. That thing can be used in biosensors for more precise detection of specific ions, enabling early disease diagnosis. It can also make key components for artificial organs, improving their performance and compatibility. Pushes medical tech forward…】

【I’m impressed but confused…】

【I saw it too! The Changyang local official account and Experimental High’s official site both posted it, afraid nobody would see it. Huge font size, right on the front page.】

【The one above is Liangzi, right? Didn’t come back for New Year’s this year? Last time I visited you, you called out to me on the street and I didn’t recognize you…】

【Same here. Bumped into him on the street last time and didn’t recognize him. I remember him being a bit chubby. Last time I saw him, he’d completely slimmed down. Tsk tsk…】

【…】

It was at this moment, while reading the messages, that Li Zhuo suddenly looked towards Mo Liang, who was tidying his clothes nearby, as if sensing something.

“What is it?”

The man’s voice was as gentle as ever.

“Nothing, I just vaguely felt like something left. Maybe I was mistaken.”

“Oh.”

Li Zhuo had now graduated from university and owned his own independent laboratory. He was young, promising, with boundless prospects. Fame and acclaim, surging like a tidal wave, surrounded him as naturally as the air.

“You told me before that you sensed my presence because of some system, and that’s how you came to find me, right?”

“Yes, why?”

Mo Liang had almost forgotten he’d said that years ago, but Li Zhuo still remembered it clearly.

The warm milk had just finished heating. Mo Liang carried the cup to Li Zhuo’s side and sat down next to him.

“Why the sudden question?”

Li Zhuo took the milk and sipped. The temperature was just right, with the perfect amount of honey to suit his taste, a sweetness spot on.

“Nothing, just suddenly thought of it. What does the system look like?”

“Nothing much.” Mo Liang succinctly described 0255’s features. “Just an intelligent AI equipped with an emotion module.”

“Oh, I see.”

They talked about the System, and then about mundane daily matters, and chatted about the New Year.

Before they knew it, it was time for bed.

Mo Liang inherently possessed a powerful, loving desire for his child. He wanted to hold him in his arms every moment, kiss his mouth, kiss every inch of his skin, press close in intimate union. The air he breathed in, ideally, should be saturated with his child’s DNA information—that would be perfect!

But… but…

That would scare him.

Mo Liang didn’t fully reveal this. He merely adjusted his voice to the most suitable frequency. “It’s late. Let’s sleep.”

Under the hazy glow of the bedside lamp, Li Zhuo leaned against Mo Liang’s sturdy chest to sleep. Every second seemed to stretch out in time with his breathing.

What should he do tomorrow?

He had already committed human recipes to memory. His grasp on the child’s palate was becoming clearer and clearer.

The day after tomorrow, the child had to go to the Capital City for an awards ceremony. It would rain that day, and the smog in that city was terrible. He needed to pay extra attention to his respiratory system…

Hmm, what else…

The pair of utterly emotionless eyes, when lowered to gaze at the face resting against his chest, melted. A hard, icy coldness instantly thawed into soft, boundless love.

The monster lowered his head, lovingly kissing his child’s forehead. The gesture was treasured, yet cautious.

“Good night…”

“I love you…”

“Forever…”

Two days later, it indeed rained in the Capital City. Fine, dense rain threads wove through the thick, soupy smog; it was hard to tell if the rain was merging with the fog or the fog turning into rain.

On the streets, pedestrians were scarce, all in a hurry. A damp, oppressive atmosphere permeated the air.

But none of these changes affected Li Zhuo in the slightest.

Inside the serene backstage rest area, he held a speech script in his hand, flipping through it casually. He had read the content before and was just reviewing it now.

His nose breathed in fresh air that clearly could not possibly exist indoors. If he smelled carefully, he could even detect a floral fragrance, faint and light.

He didn’t need to guess who was responsible.

Before this, Li Zhuo thought he would be nervous, but he wasn’t nervous at all. Instead, more than thinking about what to say next, his mind was flooded with the past.

Those yellowed memories, seeming so distant yet so near. The people and events he’d locked away in a drawer, unwilling to recall. The good things, the bad things, the good people, the bad people—he remembered them all.

Li Xuan was dead. Lu Fei had gone abroad. Li Huachuan lived in a nursing home, reportedly suffering from amnesia so severe he didn’t even remember his own name.

And… Mo Liang.

He truly cared for him immensely. Cared about his every word and action, his every emotional shift at every moment, his state of being every day, the exact reason his heart sometimes skipped a beat…

Later, when their relationship changed, he must have learned a great deal, many things he believed would make the experience better, would make Li Zhuo happier.

If Li Zhuo showed no reaction, that monster wouldn’t feel dejected or blame him. The monster would only think he had done something wrong.

If Li Zhuo showed even the slightest reaction, just a tiny bit, then he would remember Li Zhuo’s preferences—just as he remembered the changing nuances of his palate, the subtle pauses when he picked up a dish, every micro-expression.

He would be happy because Li Zhuo was happy. He would take Li Zhuo’s responses as signs of affection towards him. Once, he even wrote Li Zhuo a few crooked, scrawled “notes.”

Pages and pages filled with: like, happy, joyful. The child’s body seems to really like me, I’m so happy! Happy happy happy! Happy happy happy happy happy~

The monster truly had infinite, bottomless tolerance for him.

Once, Li Zhuo inadvertently overheard strangers on the street mentioning his name. They said that any online posts cursing him would automatically disappear, and the more vicious the insults, the faster the accounts would get banned.

It sounded almost like an urban legend.

The people gossiping about it thought so too, which was why they were laughing as they talked. The few listeners didn’t take it seriously either, just found it amusing.

Li Zhuo himself had tried searching his own name. The results were almost entirely praise. Some comments were clearly from netizens, but others—he could tell at a glance who sent them.

It was too obvious.

Who else would praise him by calling him a good boy?

Li Zhuo was well aware that most of his current friends, including his colleagues in the lab, were people Mo Liang had vetted for him.

Countless instances of “wishes coming true” and “good luck” were simply that monster obliging him, “inevitable coincidences” orchestrated just to please him.

He was also clear that the monster was “raising” him in a way ordinary people couldn’t comprehend. Like controlling the nutrients in a meal, he allowed absolutely no one who might have a negative impact to enter his life, constructing a transparent protective shell around him.

But… did that matter?

Human creative works invariably extol and pursue love. And his own impoverished heart needed precisely this kind of intense, concentrated love to be filled.

Even without doing it as a test, Li Zhuo would sometimes do things on a whim—like suddenly not using an umbrella in the rain. No particular reason; he just felt like it.

Especially when he watched the raindrops part to avoid him, when his wrist felt that familiar warm touch, when objects flying towards him deflected at improbable angles—in countless similar moments, he felt once again that he was being loved.

Since he was a small child, Li Zhuo had known exactly what he wanted. Not money, not power. He simply wanted to be loved.

He needed love like a plant needs sunlight and water. Needed lots of love. But if he couldn’t have lots and lots of love, then just a little bit would also do.

He wasn’t greedy at all.

But when he discovered that even that tiny bit of love was a false illusion, he thought he was about to wither away. That was when a monster wearing human skin walked towards him, step by step, and mindlessly gave him so much love—enough to drown him entirely.

He said, “Be my child.”

He said, “I will definitely take good care of you.”

And Li Zhuo agreed.

From then to now.

It was as simple as that.

Knock, knock, knock.

A respectful voice came from the staff outside.

“Mr. Li, it’s time.”

Li Zhuo stood up, walking steadily towards the door. Before his feet lay a path of brilliant light.

In the very end, the poor little love-starved soul finally met a “Monster Mother” willing to give him infinite tolerance and infinite love.

【End of Arc One】