Chapter 13

In the quiet Psychological Counseling Room, Mo Liang sat in his office chair. Behind his glasses, his eyes seemed to be staring blankly, but a closer look would reveal a streak of deep blue flashing rapidly.

Inside his retinas, images of different dishes scrolled continuously, including the full preparation process, detailed nutritional breakdowns, and whether Li Zhuo had eaten them—if so, to what degree he liked them, and other such information.

At the very top was the list of ingredients he needed to buy that evening, with the status showing they were in transit.

The system had fabricated an identity for him in this small world: that of a mysterious tycoon, named Mo Liang, the power behind a top-tier wealthy family.

Mo Liang usually handed all matters concerning this identity to the system for handling. He had no interest in it, so naturally he barely paid attention to that side of things.

Anyway, with this identity, he didn’t lack this world’s currency. As long as he was willing to pay a little extra, he could obtain the desired seasonal ingredients exactly when needed. Then he would strictly follow the system’s provided recipes to process them himself.

With the system timing every step ahead of time, there was never an accident where Li Zhuo had already finished class but the food wasn’t ready.

“An entire month’s worth of menus…”

He checked the combinations inside once more, found almost no issues, closed the plan, and shut his eyes to rest for a moment.

Although he was the Experimental High School’s psychological counselor, Mo Liang didn’t actually need to work. This so-called Psychological Counseling Room existed entirely for Li Zhuo’s sake.

If Li Zhuo came, the door would be open and the lights would be on. If he didn’t come, the counseling room’s door would be tightly shut, just like the curtains.

Before he had started doing things this way, other students would always knock on the door—perhaps out of simple curiosity, or perhaps because they genuinely had some troubles they wanted to discuss with the psychological counselor.

Mo Liang didn’t know, and he wasn’t interested.

He did, indeed, possess an almost fanatical protective desire, excessive attention, and vigorous curiosity about his own child. But did that have anything to do with other primitive humans?

Except when absolutely necessary, Mo Liang not only refrained from actively contacting them, he barely communicated with other humans in any form at all.

The reason he studied the human language so diligently, precisely controlling the volume of every single word, was not out of great interest in primitive civilization. It was simply because he wanted to talk to his child.

Still, ever since he had warned the school’s administrative staff, the students who came knocking for no good reason had become fewer, allowing him to occasionally take brief rests.

He once again thought of his child.

Although his colleagues from the same lab all agreed that Mo Liang must be suffering from some mental delusion, inventing a child who didn’t exist at all.

After all, anyone who knew Mo Liang was aware that he had experienced an energy depletion years ago and lost the ability to reproduce. So how could he possibly have a child? Even if he did, why was he the only one who remembered?

Oh, another thing: the residents of their place had only one gender. Self-propagation wasn’t difficult for them; it was as natural as breathing.

Given that, Mo Liang, who had been tested and found incapable of reproduction, was indeed considered a kind of freak.

In any case, Mo Liang did not believe his mind was faulty. Even without a single memory, he firmly insisted that his child had absolutely, absolutely existed at one point…

On the day he met Li Zhuo, before Li Zhuo even knew him, the latter had already noticed him early on.

—That was a gloomy youth with pale skin, of average height and slender build. The school uniform that fit others loosely hung empty on his frame.

And, of course, the most distinctive thing was his eyes.

Back then, Mo Liang wasn’t yet well-versed in primitive human cultures, so he truly couldn’t describe the feeling they gave off. It was only much later that he finally knew how to phrase it.

—Those were gray, misty eyes, like the early morning fog of winter that refuses to disperse, exuding an impenetrable, dense bewilderment and dimness.

Such familiar eyes. The moment he realized that, there was a single frame in Mo Liang’s originally muddled memory that suddenly became clear.

He seemed to remember something!

When he had first met his child, those were the very same eyes—a look much like a state after energy has been depleted entirely, silently giving voice to a long and obscure pain.

Back when the system was still locked in the little black room, and Mo Liang had no clue what his mission was, a powerful thought suddenly struck him.

He wanted to wipe away that layer of grimy dust, to make those eyes shine brightly once more…

That was what he wanted to do.

And it was what he must do.

“How come you’re so early again…”

Another foggy morning. The broadcast from the student dormitories played the wake-up bell, and noise from several floors blended together—footsteps and chatter, a scene of total chaos.

The moment Li Zhuo stepped out of the Boys’ Dormitory’s main entrance and looked up, he saw a familiar figure in the usual spot.

He had wondered more than once just what time Teacher Mo woke up, to always be waiting downstairs with a prepared breakfast before he even appeared.

“It’s not that early. I only just got here.”

Still that gentle smile, that soft tone. Still carrying two thermos containers. The two of them walked as usual along the familiar path to the little square behind the dormitory.

—This area had originally been a place for students to play ping-pong. Later, after the school built a larger sports area on the other side, people gradually stopped coming here, though the old stone tables and stools remained.

Li Zhuo and Teacher Mo each took a seat on opposite sides. On the spotlessly clean stone table, the day’s sumptuous and exquisite breakfast was laid out one by one.

There was a steaming bowl of pumpkin congee, some shelled boiled shrimp, a plate of cut fruit, and a bottle of fresh milk…

“What are you staring at me for?”

Li Zhuo noticed that while he was eating breakfast, Mo Liang was staring fixedly at him, so intently it was as if he were analyzing his micro-expressions with a magnifying glass.

“Nothing, just wanted to ask how it tastes,” Teacher Mo asked with concern. “Is the congee not to your liking?”

“It’s fine. Pretty sweet.”

【Seems like he didn’t notice.】

In that pumpkin millet congee, Mo Liang had added a small amount of a nutrient that was very good for Li Zhuo’s hair.

—In Mo Liang’s Feeding Log, there was a category that automatically updated every day with all sorts of trivial matters related to Li Zhuo. This included his eyelash growth rate, daily bone density scans, and even an individual serial number for each strand of hair…

Recently, perhaps due to the school’s water quality and shampoo, after his last hair wash, the number of fallen strands was a full twenty-three more than usual!!

This was a serious matter.

As a qualified caretaker, how could he just leave such an issue unresolved?

Mo Liang pondered for a long time and finally came up with this solution: adding some Nutrient Polymer Compound that was good for hair into the food.

Although after multiple experiments, he had confirmed that the difference in simulated taste between the Nutrient Polymer Compound and pumpkin was only 0.03%, he still felt a bit uneasy before Li Zhuo ate it.

His child had already finished the pumpkin congee and was now eating the shrimp. It seemed he really did like shrimp. Hm, he must remember that…

Just watching him eat filled Mo Liang’s heart with a strange sense of satisfaction. If only it could always stay like this.

Li Zhuo had no idea what was on Mo Liang’s mind. Breakfast time was very limited. By the time he was about eighty percent full, there was hardly any time left.

“Teacher Mo, I’m off.”

“Okay.”

Li Zhuo took the water bottle Teacher Mo had prepared for him and hurried off toward the Teaching Building.

He walked quickly, without looking back, but he had a certain intuition that the man behind him must be holding the exact same posture, his face surely wearing that gentle smile.

And indeed, that was the case.

【Maybe I should reconfigure the molecular structure of the drinking water in his bottle into an icosahedral form? That way it’ll be more easily absorbed by the cells…】

【My child is still growing, you know. He needs to absorb lots and lots of nutrients.】

He muttered to himself.

【The basketball court area is a danger zone. He nearly got hit last time—lucky I altered the trajectory in time… Let’s add more surveillance here!】

At that moment, the system that was supposed to be guiding its Host was completely silent, as if it didn’t exist at all.

【……】

The days passed one by one. Imperceptibly, a month slipped quietly away, and before anyone knew it, it was already time for Experimental High School’s monthly break at the end of the month.

During the last week before the break, the students of Class 10 were in high spirits. Sometimes, even during class, you could hear people talking about how they’d play and what they’d eat over the break, complaining about how inconvenient dorm life was, how inhumane the school was, and how much they missed their families.

At night, it was even livelier. The students in the dorms who had secretly hidden their cell phones huddled together, chattering noisily about things Li Zhuo couldn’t quite understand.

Some talked about some place where another person had died in the news. Some discussed which game had a new event dungeon and how to clear it. Every now and then, you’d hear something about “mid lane” or “top lane” and such.

Li Zhuo didn’t join those discussions, and he didn’t have a strong phone addiction. Every month, he obediently handed in his cell phone and hadn’t secretly hidden a second backup device, so he truly couldn’t participate.

Most of the time, he simply lay still on his bed, quietly brewing drowsiness as if he weren’t even there.

Before meeting Mo Liang, he would sometimes think over unfinished problems from the day, sometimes count numbers, sometimes dwell on matters regarding the Li Family and wonder what they were doing. Sometimes he would think of nothing at all, emptying his mind completely.

After meeting Mo Liang, he seemed to rarely think of those messy things anymore. What he thought about most became the dishes he might eat the next day, and then…

Wait…

The day he met Mo Liang was…

Li Zhuo’s originally closed eyes suddenly shot open.

The month was nearly over, and only now, while recalling his first encounter with Teacher Mo, did he belatedly realize that the day had actually been April 1st—April Fools’ Day.

What a subtle date.

The thoughts in his mind were like a tightly lined-up row of dominoes. Once the “April Fools’ Day” piece toppled, a chain reaction followed, naturally bringing to mind memories from two days before that day.