Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Yu Ruoshu’s chatter ceased as she exchanged a surprised glance with Xu Kaichang.

This was the first time they had heard the child call them Uncle and Aunt.

Did this mean Lin Jiaxu was truly beginning to accept them?

The child’s obedient demeanor almost made Yu Ruoshu blurt out, “Maybe you shouldn’t go after all?”

But catching sight of Zhong Qian and Guang Yongwang waiting nearby, she sighed softly, ultimately deciding not to hold him back.

“Our Jia Jia has grown up,” Yu Ruoshu said with a smile.

Seeing the adults’ smiles, Lin Jiaxu suddenly felt that calling them Uncle and Aunt a few more times wasn’t such a big deal.

Zhong Qian had been observing Lin Jiaxu the entire time. Noticing the boy’s distraction, he subtly reduced his presence, giving them space.

Yu Ruoshu reiterated all her warnings several times. When it was finally time, she waved goodbye to Lin Jiaxu.

She ruffled the child’s fluffy hair. “Be careful on the road, and remember to call us when you arrive.”

“Okay,” the boy nodded.

They got into the car, Lin Jiaxu still clutching his flowerpot.

The pot wasn’t very large. Zhong Qian placed it by his feet and told him to buckle up. “Why do you want to keep plants? There might not be a place for them where you’re going.”

Lin Jiaxu blinked. “They’re Mom’s flowers. Can’t we keep plants at the base?”

Zhong Qian wasn’t entirely sure. He had visited the base but never stayed there.

Guang Yongwang, however, knew the answer. “Yes, you can. The base has arranged a dormitory for the two of you. It has a private bathroom and a balcony. You can keep the flowers on the balcony without bothering anyone. You could even grow a few more if you like. Should we go back and get some extra?”

Lin Jiaxu was relieved and shook his head. “This is enough.”

It was winter, and the flowers had already withered. After autumn, the roses had shed their leaves to survive the winter, leaving only bare stems to store nutrients and await spring’s bloom.

Lin Jiaxu had planted some vegetables in the soil a while ago, but he hadn’t tended to them recently. When he finally checked, he found they had frozen solid. Only a few were salvaged by the caretakers, but even those looked sickly.

He didn’t know how long he would be away, so Lin Jiaxu gave the remaining seeds to his brother and sister, asking them to plant them in spring, and took his mother’s flowers with him.

Then, he noticed the first part of Guang Yongwang’s statement about the two of them sharing a dormitory. “Why am I sharing a dorm with Zhong Qian? Is he coming with me too?”

“That’s right,” Zhong Qian said languidly. “Thanks to you, I’m now bound to you. Wherever you go, I go.”

“So when you said we’d leave in two days, you meant we’re going together?” Lin Jiaxu looked puzzled.

Zhong Qian grinned. “Yep! Surprised?”

Lin Jiaxu was initially shocked and resistant, but then felt a flicker of excitement. He wanted to play with Zhong Qian but didn’t want to see him every day.

The child’s face scrunched up in conflict. Zhong Qian found this amusing and reached out to pinch his cheek.

Lin Jiaxu couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”

“Because they think you need a friend,” Zhong Qian said candidly. “I’m also your observer.”

Lin Jiaxu asked, “So you’re here to supervise me?”

“Exactly,” Zhong Qian leaned back lazily in his seat. “Don’t be fooled by everyone saying they trust you. Just because you signed an agreement doesn’t mean they see you as a friend. It’s not that simple. If you get out of line…”

“What happens?” Lin Jiaxu pressed.

“Death,” Zhong Qian answered bluntly.

He continued to analyze the situation for the child. “You’re in a bit of a dangerous position right now. You’re an Alien, but also human. That’s why the leaders are willing to try and accept you. But if you refuse to accept restrictions, they’ll immediately abandon you; they won’t keep you.”

Choosing Zhong Qian, someone familiar to Lin Jiaxu, was a carefully considered decision by the base’s high command. It was intended as both companionship and a means of control.

It would also help lower Lin Jiaxu’s guard and make it easier for him to integrate into the base and accept them.

Zhong Qian didn't hide anything, speaking frankly.

Lin Jiaxu had no choice. He couldn’t escape. If he wanted to continue living in the human world, he had to accept all these unfair restrictions—until he was capable of breaking free.

“You’ve heard this saying, right?” Zhong Qian said calmly. “Those who are not of our kind must have different intentions.”

Lin Jiaxu’s face fell. He had heard it before.

He had once overheard it from Lin Cheng, who would sometimes look at him with a complex, conflicted expression and say things Lin Jiaxu didn’t understand at the time.

But now, Lin Jiaxu understood—far too much.

Lin Jiaxu said angrily, “I don’t want you with me anymore!”

Guang Yongwang, driving in front, winced upon hearing their conversation.

Zhong Qian really needed more training. Who talks like that?

They told you to be his friend, but did you have to take it so literally? Blabbing everything—did you forget he’s an Alien?

At least this was a private conversation, and nothing confidential was discussed. Otherwise, if it were reported, he’d get chewed out by his superiors.

Zhong Qian wasn’t a trained conversationalist and had no idea that his teammate was already considering telling their captain to enroll him in communication skills courses.

“Too bad. We agreed I’d go wherever you go. We’re inseparable.”

Lin Jiaxu felt like retching. “Who wants to be inseparable with you?”

“Really? You don’t want to be friends?” Zhong Qian feigned disappointment. “Then I guess I won’t teach you your powers anymore. And I even prepared a gift for you—one I thought you’d really like. But since you don’t want to be friends, I’ll just keep it.”

The child immediately panicked. “No, no, no! You said you’d teach me powers! You can’t go back on your word!”

As for the gift Zhong Qian mentioned, Lin Jiaxu dismissed it entirely. He could get anything he wanted—he just had to ask, and his family would buy it for him.

Zhong Qian fiddled with the flowerpot and said casually, “Then tell me, are we good friends?”

Lin Jiaxu choked out, as if something were stuck in his throat. “Y-yes… good… friends.”

“Good Jia Jia. I’ll teach you once we reach the base.”

Zhong Qian said with delight.

Lin Jiaxu remained expressionless.

Just wait. Once he learned his powers, the first thing he’d do was burn Zhong Qian to a crisp.

He looked out the car window. After countless twists and turns, he had no idea where they were. Then they drove into what seemed like a mountain tunnel. The light dimmed, and after the headlights turned on, they remained on.

The car kept moving, and Lin Jiaxu could feel the ground gently sloping downward, indicating they were descending.

“Are we in Anshan? Or underneath it?” Lin Jiaxu pressed his face against the car window.

Zhong Qian replied, “Yes, Anshan. You recognize it?”

“I came here with my mom and dad.”

What’s more, he was born in Anshan himself. Anshan wasn’t a single peak but a continuous mountain range spanning multiple provinces and cities. The part they were heading to now was near Lan City.

The further they drove, the more remote it became. The child grew excited, watching as the car stopped and started, passing through checkpoints and barriers, with armed personnel stationed at each one.

As the number of armed personnel increased, they had to stop and enter commands more often. They were getting closer to the base.

The car stopped at a rocky wall in a wide tunnel. The wall trembled slightly, then suddenly parted to the left and right, revealing a straight path ahead.

The child stared wide-eyed. “It’s a secret base.”

Zhong Qian laughed. “Yes, a top-secret base. So when you call home later, you can’t say where you are. It’s confidential.”

Lin Jiaxu nodded and kept looking. “Okay.”

Once inside, Lin Jiaxu watched Guang Yongwang and the others go through a series of complex verifications—fingerprints, iris scans, and more—before finally parking the car in a spacious lot filled with all kinds of armed vehicles he’d never seen before.

Guang Yongwang didn’t get out. Instead, he waited for them to unload their luggage before backing up to leave. “I’ll leave you here then? Do you know where the dorm is?”

“Yes.”

Zhong Qian gave a thumbs-up and led the child by hand, taking the elevator away from the parking area.

They turned several corners and took another elevator.

The child, who hadn’t paid much attention to the route, had no idea where he was now, but everything here piqued his curiosity.

The place was filled with armed personnel rushing back and forth, and tall, heavy metal doors, sealed one after another.

Lin Jiaxu sat on the suitcase as Zhong Qian pushed him along. “It feels like a cold, sci-fi research lab or prison.”

Zhong Qian smiled. “This is a research base.”

Currently, various provinces and cities have established research bases focused on Aliens, conducting scientific exploration and technological development.

As a developed city and a national frontline, Lan City also hosts a research center carrying humanity’s hopes and future. It brings together scholars from across the country to study Aliens and their unknown realms.

Lin Jiaxu looked around, his eyes darting everywhere. “This place is so weird. It’s nothing like the outside.”

Inside the base, there were researchers in white lab coats hurrying about, as well as armed combatants. Though Lin Jiaxu didn’t quite understand why armed personnel were patrolling inside, he couldn’t help but let his eyes follow them.

When people saw the two of them, no one showed surprise or confusion at the presence of a child in the base. They merely glanced sideways but didn’t stop.

Lin Jiaxu’s gaze swept over everyone, then settled on the peculiar buildings nearby with their dark metallic sheen.

Zhong Qian noticed the child slowing down. “Do you like it here?”

“It’s very beautiful.”

Lin Jiaxu nodded slightly.

It was the first time Zhong Qian had heard someone use the word "beautiful" to describe a research facility.

He looked up at the buildings, which had almost no decorations and were full of geometric designs.

The black metal exteriors gave the base a solemn, dignified feel, but even people inside could find it oppressive after a while.

Still, it was indeed stunning at first glance.

Like a scene from a sci-fi movie, the lab buildings were made of special materials to resist Aliens and isolate contamination, giving them a strikingly futuristic beauty.

“Right? I think it’s nice too. We have great taste,” Zhong Qian boasted.

“Yes.”

Lin Jiaxu nodded without modesty.

But as they approached the dorm, the beautiful black buildings grew farther away, returning them to the ordinary human world.

“The dorm isn’t pretty.”

Lin Jiaxu said unhappily, waiting for Zhong Qian to collect their bedding and daily supplies.

“You said it—it’s a dorm. Simplicity is a traditional virtue. As long as it’s livable, it’s fine. If you want to see pretty buildings, there’ll be plenty of time to admire them after we settle in. You can look until you’re sick of them.”

Zhong Qian had quite a bit to carry: daily necessities, bedding, and several sets of uniforms hastily made for Lin Jiaxu. “Here, these are your clothes. Help me carry them.”

Lin Jiaxu took them and found them quite heavy. Looking closely, he saw there were both winter and summer versions.

He said disappointedly, “They’re not nice. They’re as ugly as yours.”

The Special Team uniforms were pure black with a well-designed cut. Zhong Qian held one up to him—it fit perfectly and looked sharp. “Ugly? They look good.”

The more the child looked, the less he liked them. “Black. Ugly.”

Zhong Qian facepalmed, almost forgetting the child preferred bright colors. “They’re just uniforms. You don’t have to wear them normally. But when you’re in combat, black uniforms look cool! Right?”

“I guess it’s a little cool.”

With that, Lin Jiaxu reluctantly found them acceptable.

“A lot cool.” After loading their luggage and belongings onto a small cart, Zhong Qian led him to the dorm.

He used his ID card to open the dorm door. The room was simple and clean but sparsely furnished—just two beds, two desks, and a desktop computer.

Probably because there was a child, a child-sized desk and chair were also provided.

The desk had a computer on it. Though Zhong Qian guessed it might only connect to the base’s internal network, it was better than nothing.

Zhong Qian quickly cleaned the beds and made them up with bedding.

As soon as he entered the room, Lin Jiaxu dropped his luggage and used his terminal to call home and reassure his family.

Yu Ruoshu, relieved to receive the call, told Lin Jiaxu to behave and not wander off.

After chatting for a while, Lin Jiaxu hung up the phone and ran to check the computer. He wasn’t allowed to bring his tablet or other electronic devices—only a terminal resembling a smartwatch, given to him by Zhong Qian.

The terminal was developed by the base to resist pollution to some extent and prevent signal interference. However, such in-base devices came with many restrictions. Aside from simple games like Snake, Minesweeper, and Tetris, there was no entertainment to speak of.

It could connect to the internet, but required special permission—which made it pretty boring. Lin Jiaxu found it far more interesting to chat with Zhong Qian instead.

As soon as the kid booted up the computer, he realized it couldn’t access the internet either. However, it was loaded with a bunch of videos, courses, cartoons, TV dramas, and single-player games.

Even though Lin Jiaxu could adapt to a monotonous life, having a computer and being able to play games still made him quite happy.

“There are so many games on here.”

“Why didn’t I get this kind of treatment?”

Zhong Qian grumbled as he noticed the files on the computer.

He was certain that those games and shows weren’t arranged by the leadership or Li Yuanlu. Thinking of the professors who were eagerly anticipating Lin Jiaxu’s arrival, he could guess who had prepared these for the boy.

Zhong Qian finished making the bed and turned to say, “Stop looking and come unpack your stuff.”

Lin Jiaxu replied with an “Okay” and ran over.

The child opened his suitcase and took out the clothes his family had packed for him. He was rough with them, leaving them somewhat messy. After giving them a quick fold, he stuffed them into the wardrobe and pushed hard to make them fit.

Once the clothes were put away, Lin Jiaxu did a lap around the room, checking out the dorm, before finally running to the balcony with his plant and placing it there.

Standing on tiptoe, he grabbed the railing and leaned out, carefully looking the pot over from side to side. Still uneasy, he worried the plant might fall.

It wouldn’t matter if it hit someone, but he would be heartbroken if his plant died.

After a moment’s thought, Lin Jiaxu snapped off a small thorny branch from Lin Cheng’s thorny vine. The thorns quivered.

Lin Cheng was pissed. Even though he looked like a flower, that didn’t mean he was one!

That hurts, you know!

The child paid no mind. He waited for the broken-off piece to grow bigger, then wrapped the thorny vine tightly around the flowerpot and balcony several times. What was once a lovely rose was now completely taken over by creepy vines.

Lin Jiaxu was quite pleased with the result.

Satisfied, he jumped down from the balcony and ran back inside, looking up to ask, “All done. What else should I do?”

Zhong Qian was about to praise him for being so quick.

But when he looked up and saw the open wardrobe stuffed with messy clothes, the compliment died on his lips.

He slowly lowered his head and asked, “You call this put away?”

Zhong Qian hadn’t expected the child, who had never done a chore at home, to suddenly master housekeeping. He only hoped Lin Jiaxu could at least put his own stuff away neatly.

But looking at the pile of clothes—though not exactly misplaced—the child couldn’t fold them well. A few down jackets and cotton coats, all puffed out, they took up most of the closet space.

Lin Jiaxu glanced over and saw no issue.

He nodded confidently. “Done.”

The wardrobe was meant for both of them, and Zhong Qian hadn’t even put his own clothes in yet. Resigned, he began reorganizing the wardrobe. “Forget it. Go get a bucket of water. I’ll mop later.”

“Okay, I’ll do the mopping!”

It was the child’s first time doing chores, and he found it quite fun. He eagerly took on the task.

Excitedly, he grabbed a mop taller than himself and swung it around the floor. Wherever the wet mop passed, it left long streaks of water. Convinced it wasn’t clean enough, he dumped even more water on the floor.

By the time Zhong Qian finished neatly arranging their clothes and toiletries issued by the base, he turned around to see the floor covered in muddy, yellowish puddles. His face nearly turned the same color.

Unable to bear it any longer, Zhong Qian flicked the kid on the forehead. “Go stand in the corner!”

Clutching his head, the child stood in the corner as punishment, complaining, “I was really trying to clean.”

Zhong Qian was speechless.

Once again resigned, Zhong Qian took the mop from the child and started mopping the floor himself.

If he hadn’t known the boy had never done housework before, he might have suspected him of doing it on purpose.

But Lin Jiaxu was honestly trying to help, but just making a mess. Even Zhong Qian’s patience was wearing thin.

“I get it. You meant well. Go play,” Zhong Qian sighed.

After cleaning and putting away the mop, he picked up a wet rag and walked to the balcony—only to freeze.

“What the heck is this?”

A flowerpot on the balcony was now covered in a tangle of thorny vines waving all over. Zhong Qian stood there, totally confused for several seconds.

It took him a moment to realize it was Lin Jiaxu’s plant.

Moving closer, he noticed the rose plant was still there—the thorns were merely wrapped around the flowerpot and balcony.

“Is this your plant? Why did you wrap it up like this?”

Lin Jiaxu ran over. “The pot’s so little—what if it blows over?”

See? Pretty smart, right?

The child looked it over, really proud.

Zhong Qian reluctantly accepted the explanation. “You don’t need your thorns for that. I’ll find some wire or rope to make a support.”

He still insisted that Lin Jiaxu put the thorns away.

If even a whiff of pollution were detected in the base, and he hadn’t immediately pulled his knife, it was only because he reacted quickly. If someone else saw it next time, Lin Jiaxu’s plant might not be so lucky.

And then the kid would be bawling his eyes out.

Lin Jiaxu disagreed, convinced his thorns were more secure. “But what if your support isn’t strong enough and my plant falls?”

Zhong Qian was all out of patience for the day. Instead of worrying about the flowerpot hitting someone, the child was worried about the plant itself.

He lifted the flowerpot down. “It won’t fall. I’ll make it sturdy, and the support will be placed safely on the balcony.”

“Fine then.”

Lin Jiaxu reluctantly agreed to the plan.