One week later—
“Lin Fan, do you know what you’ve done?” The middle-aged man moved down the corridor, solemn as a judge, each step dropping like stone into a still pond.
“I know all too well.” Lin Fan walked half a pace behind, eyes fixed ahead like an arrow on its mark.
The man stopped, and Lin Fan’s feet stilled with him. “So, you’re not taking me to see her?” Lin Tian turned, a slow smile lifting like a crescent moon.
“…Fine.” Under his father’s gaze, the usually cold, proud youth dipped his head, a winter frost softening into mist.
Whoosh—the elevator slid open. The basement yawned wide and empty, a cavern of quiet; only a single stasis pod stood at the center like an altar. Inside, a breathtaking girl slept, eyes sealed, a tight suit laced with fine tubes; her gold-red hair drifted behind her like slow flame in water.
“Is it her?” Lin Tian strode to the pod, his gaze combing over the sleeping Xiao Qianxue, steady as a lantern in night fog.
“Mm.” Lin Fan stood on the far side, his eyes a storm of feelings, memory and fear braided together.
A green glow budded in Lin Tian’s palm, an emerald spring welling up—richer, purer than Lin Fan’s, a light that made you want to sink into forests and rain.
Lin Fan held his tongue, waiting, his breath coiled like a bowstring.
The emerald light seeped through the pod, mingled with the nutrient fluid, then threaded into the girl’s body; Lin Tian closed his eyes, calm as a tree in wind.
Minutes drifted by. Only silence, deep as falling snow.
“This…” The green faded like dusk, and Lin Tian opened his eyes.
“Well?” Lin Fan looked at his father, hunger for hope tight as a fist.
“Besides a problem with her consciousness, the rest looks fine.” Lin Tian spoke softly, like a blanket laid over embers. “If it’s for this girl, I can understand you, son.”
“If you hadn’t stirred so much back then, I’d have found her long ago. We wouldn’t be in this mess.” The boy’s anger flared like flint, and he tossed part of the blame at his father without blinking.
“You’re a man now. You know why I did it—big picture and personal, tide and pebble. I won’t repeat it.” Lin Tian took one more look at Xiao Qianxue, then turned for the elevator, his back straight as a spear.
“If she becomes my daughter-in-law, I won’t stand in your way.” His voice was even, like rain on eaves.
“You couldn’t stop me anyway.” The words were blades, but warmth rose in him like sunrise; he wouldn’t let it show.
“I’ll wipe the mess for you. Report to the Organization later.” Upstairs, Lin Tian said it, then left, his figure fading like smoke.
Thud—something hit Lin Fan at the corner, a sudden collision like a sparrow into glass.
He saw her in a flash: a petite girl with dark green hair. Before she plopped onto the floor, he caught her, quick as a net; her black-and-white bear plush tumbled, rolling like a clumsy moon.
“Mm…” Eyes shut, she braced for pain that never came, fear fluttering like a moth.
“Huh…” She opened them and found a handsome boy holding her hand, light steady as a lighthouse.
“Young Master Lin!!!” After rubbing her eyes, confirming him like a star she knew by heart, the green-haired girl dove into his arms, small head nuzzling his chest like a kitten.
“You… Yumo, when did you get here?” His thoughts spun like leaves in a whirl, then settled on her name.
“Lin Yumo!” He called her back to earth, voice a bell; he steadied her, and she blinked, reality snapping into place.
“Um… Young Master, I just got back.” Shy, she folded her hands, rubbing lightly, then spotted her bear and picked it up by the ear, sheepish as a child. “I haven’t seen you for so long—I kinda couldn’t help myself… heh.” Pure joy brightened her face like morning.
“So, training’s done?” He gestured for Lin Yumo to follow; together they strolled toward the drawing room, steps easy as a summer walk.
“Yep. I said I’d only come back once I made myself useful.” She stuck out her tongue, playful as a sparrow. “By the way, where’s Sister Qingxing?”
“Something happened recently. She’s staying with Tang Shaoyu for a while.” Lin Fan signed to the old butler; the man bowed, hand to chest, and withdrew like a shadow.
When Qingxing first entered the Lin Clan, Lin Yumo was just leaving to train; later, they crossed paths now and then and even traded a few friendly blows, sparks flying like flint.
Lin Yumo sat obediently on the sofa, a gentle figure like tea steam; her crimson eyes kept drifting to Lin Fan, and when their gazes met, hers flitted away, shy as a deer.
When she was little, her mother died; when she grew older, her father vanished, emptiness piling up like fallen leaves. Investigators hunting Awakened in the crowd took her away—she had no ability then and was tossed aside like a dulled blade. Lin Fan found her crying in a corner, tears a river in the dust.
“If you don’t mind, come with me.” He’d been a newly grown brat then, acting on a spark; he brought Yumo back to the Lin Clan. The adults said one more little girl was just a feather on the scale. Later, she awakened, and those who threw her away swallowed regret like bitter medicine. When she grew a bit more, she begged to get stronger, went off to train three years, and now she was back—about the same age as Xiao Qianxue, around fifteen springs.
“I’m training my ability properly now. I’ll definitely help you.” The dark green-haired girl toyed with her black-and-white bear, fingers gentle as rain.
The butler came in with a tray of rosy apples, red as lanterns. “Wow, my favorite candied apples—thank you, Grandpa Butler!” Her smile opened like a flower in sun.
“The young master ordered them, Miss Yumo.” The old butler studied her kindly, eyes warm as coals.
“He still remembers what I like—Yumo’s so happy!” She grabbed one and took a chomp, crunch bright as a bell.
“Eat up. Once you’re done, we’re heading to the Organization to report.”
