Chapter 46 Gu Jinsheng’s Promotion

**Chapter 46: Gu Jinsheng Advances**

Ji An was slightly taken aback. He knew Little Stone was earnest, but he hadn’t expected such sincerity. When given the chance to pick up paper and pen, the first names he *chose* to learn were his and Gu Jinsheng’s—the names of the two people who had saved his life—rather than his own.

Yuan Mingan said, *moved*, “Little Stone is truly pure-hearted. He’s a good boy who understands gratitude.”

Ji An kissed Little Stone on the cheek. The boy froze, his face turning even redder, but his grin *split his face*, clearly overjoyed. “I... I can also write all 46 letters of pinyin,” he stammered.

As he spoke, Little Stone began writing in the sand tray again. Unable to bear erasing Ji An and Gu Jinsheng’s names, he *crowded* the 46 letters in tiny script beneath them.

“Little Stone, you’re amazing,” Ji An praised again. “Big Brother promised rewards for good children. You can be the first to choose one.”

“Really?” Little Stone had never received a gift before; he *wavered between nerves and excitement*.

“Of course. Go ahead,” Ji An encouraged.

Little Stone glanced at Ji An, then stepped forward with trust. He *studied the items carefully*, touching one, then another, clearly *liked them all and wanted everything*.

But instead of greedily asking for more, he turned to Little Rose and asked, “Which one do you like?”

Little Rose’s face flushed with excitement. There was clearly something she adored and desperately wanted, yet she shook her head obediently. “Little Stone, you should pick what you like.”

Little Stone refused, *murmuring shyly*, “You promised to be my wife. Big Brother Ji An said we must take care of family.”

Little Rose’s face turned even redder. She covered her small face completely with her tiny hands, clearly embarrassed by his words—but she didn’t deny them.

Finally, she *peered through her fingers*, her big eyes landing on a *flimsy plastic doll*—something that might have cost just a few dollars before the apocalypse but now required 40 credits.

Without hesitation, Little Stone immediately gave up the toy gun and paperback book he liked, *grabbed the doll and bolted back*, *beaming like a giddy kid*, and stuffed it into Little Rose’s hands.

Little Rose hugged the doll tightly, *delighted*, and *smacked a kiss* on Little Stone’s cheek, making him even happier.

Seeing that Little Stone had actually received a toy—not only without reprimand but with praise—the other children *got eager to show off* too.

Next was Little Rose. Just as skilled as Little Stone, she *wrote perfectly* Ji An and Gu Jinsheng’s names, and even added Little Stone’s and her own. She also knew all 46 letters.

Unsurprisingly, Little Rose *got a prize*. This time, she didn’t pick something for herself but immediately chose the toy gun Little Stone had *eyed the longest*. It was clear she had been watching him closely earlier, knowing exactly what he had lingered over.

Little Stone hadn’t expected to *get back the toy he’d passed on*. His grin widened, making him look even more like a *giddy kid*.

One by one, the other children began writing. However, apart from the little beggars Ji An had brought back, *the others couldn’t write* Ji An and Gu Jinsheng’s names.

Even among the children Ji An had rescued, most *mangled strokes or left out characters*, often missing parts or skipping entire names.

But Ji An didn’t scold them. As long as they had the intention, that was comfort enough for him.

He consoled them, ranking *them by how they did*, letting each child take turns picking a gift.

Since this was the first *giveaway*, Ji An made sure no one was left out. Regardless of performance, everyone received encouragement.

But it wouldn’t be like this in the future—only the best-behaved children would earn gifts.

“Now that everyone has a gift, let’s thank Big Brother Ji An. He used his own credits to buy these for you.”

Yuan Mingan was truly gentle. Having lost her own daughter, she poured all her patience into these children, guiding and teaching them with the same tenderness as if they were her own.

“Thank you, Big Brother Ji An!” the children chorused loudly.

That afternoon, Ji An stayed at the orphanage, playing and studying with the children. He guided each one in writing their own names and, at their request, wrote personalized blessings on paper. The children treated these like treasures, *poring over them* again and again before carefully hiding them away.

In the evening, Ji An stepped out under the children's wistful stares as the orphanage gate closed behind him. He turned back, and for a moment, the old, weathered door seemed to merge with another equally old door from his past.

Standing at the entrance was a little boy dressed in an oversized, faded, threadbare outfit, waving at him with a smile that felt timeless.

Ji An raised his hand and waved back, smiling. But when he turned away again, a tear slipped down his cheek and disappeared as soon as it touched the ground—just like the faded gate and the boy standing there.

The sunset’s golden light draped over Ji An, casting a soft yellow glow around him.

He drove home, not wanting to cook, so he drank a nutrient shake, took a shower, and lay in bed hoping to fall asleep. But the memory of the orphanage at dusk haunted him, lingering stubbornly in his mind no matter how hard he tried to push it away.

Eventually, Ji An got up, switched on the desk lamp, and started sketching the memory.

As the image slowly emerged on the paper, every detail of the little boy and the old gate became clearer.

With a black pencil, Ji An carefully wrote: "May tomorrow be even slightly better than today, and even better still!"

When he finally finished, he lay down and fell asleep almost instantly.

For several days afterward, Ji An split his time between the orphanage and home, bringing gifts worth about a thousand credits each time.

But these gifts weren’t handed out right away. Instead, Yuan Mingan locked them in a cabinet, explaining that there would be a monthly evaluation, and rewards would be given based on rankings.

"The evaluation isn't just about schoolwork—it includes daily life and hygiene too. Whoever keeps their space the cleanest and helps the caretakers clean up can become a life committee member and get a reward."

As soon as Ji An finished speaking, the kids who weren’t book-smart but were good with their hands cheered loudly.

They might not be able to keep up with Little Stone and Little Rose in class, but they could keep their spaces spotless.

The children were already used to folding their own blankets and washing simple clothes, but now they made sure to smooth their quilts perfectly every morning, leaving no creases at all.

Kids who used to be a bit messy and didn’t improve no matter how much Yuan Mingan nagged them started paying attention to hygiene. They checked their collars and cuffs every day, terrified of getting even a little dirty.

Of course, the younger kids who couldn’t yet take care of themselves couldn’t do this, but they could still be judged on other things.

Like whether they called for help in time when they had to pee or poop, so they didn’t wet or soil their pants or wet the bed.

Some kids might not be able to get their own toys because they weren’t outstanding in any area, so Ji An also introduced community toys at the orphanage that everyone could use.

To stop kids from wrecking toys on purpose, Ji An made them put in a daily request for the toys they liked.

He handed out the toys himself and checked them when they were returned. If a child deliberately broke a toy they had requested, Ji An punished them by not letting them play with any toys for three days and making them skip choosing their favorite flavor of nutrient paste.

For these kids, who had once lived as homeless wanderers with uncertain futures, these punishments hit hard. After that, no kid messed with the toys.

They even watched each other. If a child was capable of keeping clean but didn’t, the others wouldn’t play with him and would tease him for being gross.

In its own way, this was progress—at the very least, even street kids now understood the importance of staying clean.

Ji An also brought in a few preschool and grade-school teachers from before the apocalypse to tutor the children.

Given the current state of society, sending these kids to school wasn’t realistic.

Schools were rare, students even rarer, and tuition cost a fortune—only rich kids went there, so it clearly wasn’t right for these children.

So Ji An hired tutors to come to the orphanage. You’d think tutors would be pricey, but if you just hired regular people and included their nutrient paste, it was actually super cheap—about two thousand credits. The people he hired thought it was like winning the lottery, and they were incredibly grateful and careful with their jobs. They never treated the kids badly just because they were parentless orphans—in fact, they worked even harder, afraid that if they didn’t teach well enough, Ji An would fire them for not being worth the money.

That’s just how it was in the apocalypse—the strong ruled, and life was much harder for the weak than most people imagined.

Ji An passed a simple month like this, until one totally ordinary evening, when Gu Jinsheng came home and opened the door.

Ji An was in a good mood. He studied Gu Jinsheng, noticing that he had become even more imposing—his aura razor-sharp and domineering, like a sword freshly unsheathed, radiating an unapproachable sharpness. Anyone could see at a glance that he was a natural authority.

Ji An smiled. “Did your ascension go well? Everything smooth?”

“It did. All went smoothly.” Gu Jinsheng’s gaze softened as it settled on Ji An. “You look good. How’s your psychic training coming along?”

“Coming along nicely,” Ji An replied. “Since you went into seclusion, I haven’t stepped foot in the lab. These days I’ve been helping Yuan Mingan take care of the kids at the orphanage. Life’s been pretty laid-back.”

“That’s good.”

Ji An asked, “Now that you’re out, can you rest for a few days? Or do you have to head back to headquarters right away?”

“I can rest three days,” Gu Jinsheng said. “The others made it too. Zhou Qin and the other two upgraded as well.”

Dual-affinity powers were far harder to advance simultaneously than single-attribute ones, which was why Gu Jinsheng had needed a few extra days compared to others.

“Today’s a good day, and to celebrate your ascension, I’ll treat you to dinner,” Ji An offered.

“Thank you,” Gu Jinsheng replied.

They chose a Western restaurant on a bustling street in the west district, rumored to serve excellent food—at a steep price. But for Ji An, it wasn’t an issue at all. He now had plenty of money; donating ten million credits to the orphanage hadn’t even dented his finances.

They drove over, and as soon as they hopped out of the car, they noticed the street was livelier than usual, with more people shopping and eating.

“Hey, Commander-in-Chief Gu, Mr. Ji—you two here for dinner too?” A staff member from headquarters happened to be dining out with his family, and they ran into each other.

“Yes,” Gu Jinsheng replied briefly—his usual style with strangers.

Ji An gave a friendly nod.

He saw the man had brought quite the crew—his wife, kids, and both sets of parents.

For such a big family, dining out would have been expensive even before the Collapse, let alone now.

Ji An vaguely remembered this man having a less-than-comfortable home life. Logically, even if celebrating something, cooking at home would’ve been much cheaper for the same food.

Though these thoughts flickered through his mind, Ji An didn’t let them show on his face. Besides, it was just a passing thought—he never pried into others’ affairs.

Without prompting, the man said, “I ascended a few days ago. I was so stoked, I insisted we splurge. My family wanted to cook at home to save money, but I pushed for going out.”

“Speaking of which, gotta give credit to the researchers. If it weren’t for their nutrient packs—and the priority access and discounts for internal staff—how could our whole family afford to eat out today?”

His wife jumped in, “Exactly! Before, one person’s meals cost us what now feeds the whole family.

Especially Dongdong—school fees were manageable before, but food was the biggest expense. Now the school provides nutrient packs—five credits covers a full day’s meals. It’s halved our bills!”

Both sets of parents praised the nutrient packs enthusiastically. Fortunately, the fact that Ji An was the researcher behind them had been locked down as need-to-know intel by headquarters and the Institute. Otherwise, who knew how they’d react if they found out?

After parting ways, Ji An noticed that the streets seemed busier with diners than ever.

A restaurant owner greeting guests at the door spotted Gu Jinsheng and eagerly called out, “Commander-in-Chief Gu! Thank you so much! Ever since the base started promoting those nutrient packs, business has taken off!”

The owner scratched his head cheerfully. “At first, I thought—nutrient packs are survival rations, barely enough to live on. Everyone would buy those and stop coming here. I was ready to close up shop.

Go figure—business was dead at first, then bam, packed house!

Then it hit me: nutrient packs are so cheap that what used to feed one person now covers a whole family. People have disposable income now—they want to splurge a little, enjoy life. Even regular Joes who couldn’t even dream of affording this place before now want to give it a try.

Not every day, of course—but once a month? Just enough to live a little.”

The boss laughed heartily, clearly delighted. “Commander-in-Chief Gu, come eat at my restaurant! My treat—thank you for making my business thrive and making sure nobody goes hungry.”

Gu Jinsheng quietly whispered into Ji An’s ear, “This is your moment to shine. This glory belongs to you.”

Ji An smiled, like fallen stars sparkling in his eyes—so bright, so radiant. For a moment, Gu Jinsheng was completely mesmerized.

“Hey, Old Li! What are you doing, stealing customers from right under my nose?” The Western restaurant owner rushed out when his staff told him that Commander-in-Chief Gu’s car had arrived. Despite hurrying over, he still ended up losing the customer. He was so angry he was ready to throw hands.

“Commander-in-Chief Gu, don’t go to his place. His food doesn’t even compare to mine. Come on in—I’ll treat you to Western cuisine, and thank you for bringing in top scientific talent, which led to the invention of the nutrient supplements and their successful promotion.

Thank you for making sure nobody goes hungry!”

“Who says my food isn’t good? Look at how many people I have coming in—it’s more than yours!” The neighboring restaurant owner refused to take the insult lying down.

The Western restaurant owner rolled his eyes. “That’s only because yours is cheaper. Commander-in-Chief, come to my place—I guarantee you’ll be licking your plate clean!”

The two were about to throw down over who would host Commander-in-Chief Gu, and other restaurants also joined in, trying to pull Gu Jinsheng and Ji An to their places.

In the end, Gu Jinsheng and Ji An chose the Western restaurant, finally ending the fierce competition.

Even then, others watched wistfully through the glass windows, calling out for them to visit their restaurants next time.

Such enthusiasm might partly stem from Commander-in-Chief Gu’s status, but Ji An knew that was only a small part of it.

If it were just about politeness due to his rank, they would have simply gone through the motions. Nobody would show such real warmth shining through their eyes.

This was genuine, heartfelt excitement—not fake or superficial. Ji An could feel it.

So he was truly happy—for Gu Jinsheng, and for himself.

It was both recognition of Gu Jinsheng’s leadership as Commander-in-Chief and the highest praise for Ji An’s creation of the nutrient supplements. Both were cause for celebration!

The approval of the base leadership paled in comparison to the sincerity of the common people. Their gratitude was the greatest honor of all.

Ji An’s mood, already bright, now shone even more brilliantly—like the midday sun!