Chapter 31

The senior year curriculum grew more intense by the day.

No one knew exactly when it started, but a glaring countdown to the Gaokao appeared on the blackboard. Even Deng Yuliang, who used to always zone out in class, began to take things seriously—let alone the other students.

More and more students stayed in the classroom to study during breaks; the sounds of horseplay faded away. Even a trip to the bathroom was done at a jogging pace.

Yet within this incredibly tense and urgent atmosphere, Li Zhuo, who had always been like a studying machine before, actually relaxed instead. He was no longer wound so tightly.

He had shifted from his former closed-off state to being able to interact normally. He wouldn’t excessively fawn over or defer to anyone, nor would he overly guard against or reject anyone.

This relaxed state, combined with the high-quality sleep he got every night under Mo Liang’s protection, allowed his mind to stay sharp during the day. There was no sign of his grades slipping at all.

He even made a few new friends he could chat comfortably with and discovered his true hobbies and interests.

Though for some reason, one of the girls he had gotten along with so well suddenly started acting one day as if she couldn’t see him and stopped associating with him. But by this point, Li Zhuo no longer let such small matters make him doubt what he had done wrong.

If she didn’t want to talk, then so be it.

His daily life seemed to return to the rhythm it had when he first met Mo Liang: paying attention during class, going to Mo Liang’s place for meals when it was time to eat, and sleeping either in the dormitory or his own apartment at night.

Aside from occasionally running a few tests to scare Mo Liang, his days flowed by as calmly as a stream.

Barring any accidents, the final semester of senior year should have passed in this day-by-day repetition. But in the drama of life, a play without a script, one can never know the theme of the next act until tomorrow arrives.

Li Zhuo never expected that one day, he would hear from Mo Liang’s mouth a story that sounded like a fantastical tale… a true story?

It was a story, right?

Only, the protagonist of the story was himself.

The matter started on an utterly unremarkable noon. The weather had been getting warmer day by day, and Li Zhuo had shed his spring clothes for light summer wear.

That day was no different from usual. The only thing that might have set it apart was that he had bought a new drink at the convenience store that was supposedly very delicious?

The new flavor did taste a bit different from ordinary soda, with a hint of salted plum and a faint medicinal aftertaste?

Li Zhuo didn’t really like it, anyway.

As expected, everyone has their own tastes and their own way of living. That saying proved quite true.

On the way to the faculty apartments, Li Zhuo was still mulling this over. He carried a new bottle of soda, thinking that even if he didn’t like the flavor, what if Teacher Mo did? He’d let him have a taste too.

Noon was the same as always. It was as if Mo Liang had counted his steps in advance, opening the door early for him. The food on the table was steaming hot.

Just as Li Zhuo was about to hand him the soda, Mo Liang, still wearing that same smile on his face, said, “My child, I must tell you something.”

Li Zhuo: “Huh?”

He continued, “I’m sorry. I failed to foresee your unease. This was a tremendous dereliction of duty, so I want to make amends now.”

Li Zhuo was even more confused.

Mo Liang went on, unhurriedly, “Do you remember? I mentioned before that I once had a child.”

Li Zhuo nodded.

Of course he remembered. He had even once imagined a tragic backstory for Mo Liang, thinking Mo Liang saw him as a substitute for his child and treated him so well out of emotional compensation.

Later, when he learned Mo Liang’s true identity, he stopped taking that statement seriously, figuring it was likely just a made-up excuse. Just like his name and his identity in this world—casually fabricated.

Li Zhuo himself hadn’t thought about those words for a long time. But seeing him suddenly bring up this child again, his intuition told him there was some hidden detail he didn’t know.

In the next second, Mo Liang gazed at him with a look of tender affection. “It’s true. That child is you.”

Li Zhuo’s brain short-circuited for a few seconds.

“You are my child.”

Although Teacher Mo was always calling him “my child” this and that, Li Zhuo had assumed it was just a verbal tic of the creature. But now, this non-human being was explicitly telling him.

That he was his child!

Li Zhuo felt his breathing grow heavy, and Mo Liang’s next words sent his thoughts reeling even further.

“You once stayed inside my belly.”

“Those were truly happy days.”

“Ah, to express it using your timeline, I was actually supposed to meet you in the future. But because of certain events, I came to your past…”

What future?

What past?

Li Zhuo looked utterly baffled. Mo Liang, probably realizing how abstract he sounded, worried his child didn’t understand and began to explain from the very beginning.

Starting from when Li Zhuo appeared in the Mother Nest, how utterly joyful and elated he had been, how much he adored him, and the little moments of their time together…

As a descendant of the Pollution Civilization, a place with such a massive Pollution Source, the environment was naturally harsh.

Not to mention other things, the various radiations in the light alone were enough to instantly wither a fragile human. So Mo Liang had always carefully kept the child hidden underground.

He could use his main body to create an absolutely comfortable environment, but he was not human, after all. His planet’s environment was also genuinely unsuitable for a fragile human to live in.

He also said that back then, he wasn’t very good at raising a child yet. He couldn’t understand what the child was saying, only sensing that the child was shrouded in a very bitter scent.

For a long time, the child would often stay dully in one position for ages, neither eating nor drinking. Mo Liang could only feed him a little nutrients through subcutaneous injections after he fell asleep and bathe him…

But the child wasn’t always like that.

Occasionally, when his spirits were slightly better, the tiny human would explore the surroundings, often poking his little head out to secretly observe what Mo Liang was doing…

The appearance of the human child suddenly made Mo Liang’s life interesting. He no longer felt drowsy all day long; the long stretches of time were no longer boring and dull…

Sometimes he would transform into a tree, letting his child sit and lean against it. Other times, he would silently turn into a bench, feeling the warmth of the human body.

He loved this fragile little life deeply, so fiercely that he wished he could hold him in his mouth, so much that he wanted to put him back into his belly…

“Back then, I loved spending time with you so much. But you didn’t like me very much, so I would often disguise myself as things you could touch…”

Mo Liang selectively recounted only the pleasant parts, glossing over some less favorable incidents.

Like how, because he adored him too much, he once gave the child a thorough licking, causing the child to hide from him in fear for a long time. Or how he thought the child was playing hide-and-seek, only for the child to say it was a nightmare, and so on.

A few times, the child even prepared some “weapons.” In Mo Liang’s eyes, those things were dozens of times smaller than toothpicks and didn’t cause any sensation when poked. But seeing how diligently he hid them, Mo Liang just found it so utterly endearing.

If a human body could withstand the harsh environment, it might even evolve some unique abilities. Unfortunately, his child was simply too frail.

Originally thin and bony, with poor mental states and malnutrition, the child then accidentally came into contact with pathogens. Soon, he was on the verge of death.

To save his child, Mo Liang acted in desperation. He placed the child inside his own belly, attempting to use stronger pathogens to kill the ones inside the child’s body.

During that time, Mo Liang could clearly feel his child sleeping inside him.

He was a very quiet child, unconscious and motionless most of the time. But if Mo Liang stroked him through a layer of skin, he would give a tiny response—a slight movement of a finger, a blink of an eyelid, something like that.

He could clearly feel his child’s heartbeat, breathing, blood—completely fused with him.

Back then, Mo Liang had even thought: If only the child could never leave him, could live forever inside his body. Because they were one, he could feel even more intensely the process of his breath fading away.

Every second felt as long as a century.

Of course, Mo Liang silently skipped over all of that. He only recounted the happy fragments.

“My planet had only me. Then you appeared, and I had you. And now that I have found you again, how could I possibly abandon you again?”

“So you don’t need to worry at all!”

“I love you forever.”

“Forever.”

Li Zhuo listened attentively the entire time.

Mo Liang’s words answered a long-standing question in his heart. He had been wondering for a very long time: Why was Mo Liang so good to him? Or rather, why him?

How many people were on Earth? Billions!

Every time Mo Liang looked at him with that almost fanatical gaze, he would wonder: Could he really be loved like this? He felt he had nothing particularly special about him. He was just an ordinary human teenager.

Why him, of all people?

Now, he finally knew the answer.

Half an hour later…

Having finished lunch, Li Zhuo held a bowl of hot soup and took a sip. His expression gradually eased, and he summarized Mo Liang’s lengthy speech in a single sentence.

“I understand now. The future me died, so you came to the past to save me, right?”

Mo Liang nodded. “Yes, my poor child…”

Overcome with emotion, one of his eyeballs accidentally popped out, but he swiftly and efficiently popped it back in.

An ultra-high-frequency buzzing sound, completely inaudible to humans, radiated outward with Mo Liang at its center.

【Living baby drinking water love it love it love it love it love it love it…】

【Most precious treasure needs my love to water him a child to care for and protect I will protect him fulfill his every wish do anything for him always care for him protect him always accompany him cherish him listen to every worry he has dispel all shadows for him…】

【Love him so much…】

【Adore him so much…】

The originator of these thoughts was gazing at him, smiling. Meanwhile, Li Zhuo, the subject of its content, was still replaying the words Mo Liang had just spoken, sentence by sentence, in his mind.

“So I really am considered your child. And the reason you were so strict before about not letting me go out alone was because you were worried I’d die?”

Mo Liang revealed a gentle smile. “Yes.”

“I’m still alive and well right now, no sickness, no death. You succeeded, right?”

“Yes, my most treasured child. Your scent is finally no longer bitter now. I am so happy, so joyful, I love it so much…”

“I hope you will always be sweet…”

“Not bitter…”

“My most beloved treasure…”

Mo Liang had always been monitoring the changes in Li Zhuo’s various physical indicators. His child had a much stronger capacity for acceptance than he had imagined. He didn’t show the negative emotions Mo Liang had anticipated—fear, inability to accept, or terror.

The child’s initial emotional fluctuation was curiosity. When Mo Liang said he was the child he had been looking for, his heart rate quickened and his breathing deepened.

Hearing about the little moments of their past interactions, the child’s myocardial contractility strengthened, peripheral blood vessels dilated, his face flushed slightly, and his body’s secretion of thyroid hormones markedly increased.

Hearing Mo Liang say he loved him so much he wanted to hold him in his mouth, so much he wanted to put him in his belly, the child’s breathing became even more noticeable, with slight perspiration appearing. The excitement of his sympathetic nerves caused a mild piloerection response.

He wasn’t afraid. He was even happy?

This reaction was exactly the same as the one he had during that Summer Camp trip, by the riverbank at night, when he saw Mo Liang slowly appearing.

The young man’s dark eyes shone like a sly little cat. He looked directly at Mo Liang, his tone carrying a hint of secret delight. “So that’s how it is…”

Because his mind was preoccupied, that week passed exceptionally quickly. On Friday evening, halfway through the first evening self-study session, the school suddenly lost power.

In the pitch-black environment, the Head Teacher on the podium held a flashlight, slamming a teaching ruler against the lectern to try and quiet the rowdy classroom.

“Quiet!! The power will be back on soon!”

Unfortunately, it had little effect.

In the noisy classroom, the mix of sounds was like a marketplace. Li Zhuo suddenly felt a warm sensation spreading from the palm of his hand.

A normal person feeling a warm touch on their hand in total darkness would probably be scared, right?

But Li Zhuo wasn’t. He knew what it was.

Mo Liang thought he was afraid of the dark, so he was comforting him, gently massaging the acupoints on his hand. With this warm gesture, he was telling him not to be afraid.

It was completely unnecessary, really.

He wasn’t as afraid of the dark as he had been when he was little.

The tumultuous survival experiences of the past hadn’t only brought Li Zhuo negatives. Beneath his timid exterior lay an extraordinary capacity for acceptance and adaptation.

Before, during the Summer Camp, a sudden thought had led him to go to the riverbank late at night to verify his suspicions.

And now, he could, of course, calmly pinch the warm tentacle in his palm in return, as if it were a toy.

When he pinched it, Mo Liang noticeably froze for a few seconds, but quickly adjusted the tactile sensation of that part of his body, making it feel even more like a stress-relief toy.

He remembered that a week ago, after hearing a bizarre story in which he was the protagonist, it had taken him less than three days to swiftly accept his identity as the child of a monster.

Or rather, with this identity, he would no longer wonder, as he had before, when Teacher Mo’s passion would fade away, when he would suddenly disappear.

Knowing that Mo Liang had thought about him for so long actually gave him a small sense of peace.

This sounded a bit hard to understand, even preposterous. Yet that was the truth. Human emotions are difficult to clearly distinguish.

“Ah, the power’s back!”

The school must have started its generator. The lights overhead flickered twice before returning to full brightness. Class resumed. Li Zhuo looked down at his scratch paper and found a line of text.

The writing was crooked and twisted, like a beginner’s handwriting. The first two lines were densely packed with “I love you, I love you,” and the word order after that became even more chaotic.

With great effort, Li Zhuo finally deciphered what the later parts meant. It was, roughly, a love confession?

He said he felt as if every nerve ending was crawling with tiny Li Zhuos. He said it felt like Li Zhuo was wound around his soul like a vine, that it felt like every second of breathing was saturated with Li Zhuo’s scent…

Some words were simply too illegible. He could only make out fragments about jealousy, synchronized breathing, missing him, and similar terms.

Seeing that new text seemed to be about to form, Li Zhuo thought for a moment and wrote four words:

【I’m in class.】

.

The final half-semester of high school had an incredibly tight schedule. Time flew by as if wound with a spring. In the blink of an eye, the countdown on the blackboard went from three digits to a single digit.

The moment he stepped into the Gaokao examination hall, Li Zhuo wasn’t nervous. His mindset was completely calm. In between, he even found time to reminisce about the taste of his breakfast.

During those three days of exams, every time he finished a test, Li Zhuo would see that unwavering, tall figure.

Mo Liang was very tall. Among the crowd of parents, he was far too tall, visible at a single glance.

In the end, his scores turned out pretty well.

Along with the university admission letter came another matter: The relationship between Li Zhuo and Mo Liang, through constant quantitative changes, finally triggered a qualitative shift…