Mo Fan, Old Bao, and Lingling entered the building together.

  Old Bao set the groceries down onto the bar counter, muttering something about the tomatoes being overpriced this season.

  “Lingling, go freshen up and come down. I’ll whip up some sandwiches in the meantime,” he said, eyeing the chocote box under her arm with mild disapproval. He knew his granddaughter too well — if he didn’t act fast, she’d finish the whole thing and skip dinner.

  “Mhm!” Lingling nodded obediently, hopping up the stairs, her little hat bobbing with each step.

  Old Bao moved behind the counter as Mo Fan sat on the bar chair.

  “What do you wanna drink, brat? No alcohol though, yer still a kid,” Old Bao grunted, pulling open a mini freezer.

  “Haha… I’ll have anything.” Mo Fan smiled lightly.

  “Hmph, that’s like the worst answer you could give to anyone!” he said with an annoyed grunt.

  Despite his annoyance, Old Bao’s hands moved with surprising dexterity for his age. He grabbed a chilled milk carton from the mini fridge behind him, poured it into a shaker, added chocote syrup, and began shaking with a grace and rhythm that could rival a professional bartender.

  Moments ter, a tall gss of rich, frothy chocote milkshake stood before Mo Fan.

  “Oh! Thanks.” Mo Fan gratefully took a sip. The cool, creamy sweetness hit him with a wave of nostalgia.

  “This is good!” he said, giving Old Bao an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

  Old Bao smirked and folded his arms proudly. “Hmph! Of course it is. Who do you think made it, huh?”

  As Mo Fan enjoyed the rich, creamy taste, he gnced around the pce. His gaze wandered toward the empty lounge area, then back to Old Bao.

  “By the way… Where’s Hunter Leng?” he asked casually.

  “...?!”

  Old Bao’s body stiffened slightly as he reached for a knife. His expression darkened like a sudden eclipse.

  “...”

  He didn’t answer immediately.

  Mo Fan noticed the shift in the air. His grip subconsciously tightened around the gss.

  “…What happened?” he asked again, this time softly, cautiously.

  The warmth in the room suddenly turned cold.

  Old Bao paused mid-motion, his hand hovering over a tomato.

  *Sigh...*

  His brows furrowed deeply, and he exhaled a long, weighty sigh.

  “It seems you don’t know...” he whispered.

  “Don’t mention this topic in front of Lingling ever again.” he said quietly but firmly, eyes still cast downward.

  “...” Mo Fan saw the tension in Old Bao’s shoulders, the way his jaw clenched.

  Mo Fan’s gut clenched too. He had a really bad feeling all of a sudden...

  “That day… you told me Zhan’s life was in danger,” Old Bao said, his voice low, eyes distant as if staring through time itself. “Even though I used that lie-detecting spell on you, I still didn’t fully believe your words. You were just a kid.”

  He continued cutting a ripe tomato in slow, practiced motions and began spreading butter across a slice of bread.

  “But... I didn’t want to gamble with my son-in-w’s life. So, I put him under house arrest for a couple of years,” he said pinly, as though recalling something trivial, but his tone was anything but casual.

  Mo Fan sat silently, not uttering a single word. His head hung low, his heart growing heavier with each passing second. From the tone and flow of the conversation, he had already pieced together the grim reality surrounding Hunter Leng Zhan.

  “At first, he resisted a lot,” Old Bao said, pausing to dice the chicken for the sandwich. “But I beat some sense into him. For a man like Zhan, who lives for adventure, being tied down to home was hard… but not all that bad, either. He got to spend time with Lingling and Qing’er. Raised them well. He ughed, he smiled. Life was peaceful.”

  Old Bao’s hands came to a sudden stop just as he was mixing the chicken sad filling.

  “But all good things must come to an end…” His voice turned hollow.

  Mo Fan didn’t move. His hands clenched tightly under the table, nails biting into his skin.

  “Was it… during Bo City’s camity?” he finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. “That day… it was horrible. For both of us…”

  Old Bao exhaled slowly, a weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of an entire year’s grief.

  “Zhan said he was going out for a walk that evening. It was quiet. Normal.” He paused. “But he never came back.”

  Mo Fan’s gaze grew darker, colder. The warmth he had felt earlier, seeing Lingling again, drained from his face.

  “Is he… missing?” he asked, though he already feared the answer.

  “No,” Old Bao replied, shaking his head. “We found him two days ter. But…”

  He looked away, jaw tightening. “He was half-dead. His body was mutited, cultivation crippled, spiritual world shattered. His soul… heavily damaged. For all his strength, Zhan didn’t even stand a chance against whatever attacked him.”

  The old man’s voice cracked for the first time, his hands trembling faintly. He stared down at the unfinished sandwich, eyes dim.

  He had made a promise to his beloved daughter on her deathbed that he would keep her husband and two daughters safe... That he would protect her little world... But he couldn’t.

  A moment of heavy silence passed between them.

  “He’s in the hospital now. Been in a coma for a year. The doctors have long since given up on him,” Old Bao said grimly.

  The only reason Leng Zhan was still alive was because Old Bao had immediately contacted his old soulmate — a high-ranking Muse from the Parthenon Temple, one of the strongest organizations in the world. Even with her healing powers, all she could do was prevent death. She had told him only the Goddess of Parthenon could heal wounds of the soul that severe.

  But… the position of Goddess had remained vacant for ten years.

  Mo Fan’s eyes widened. He sat in stunned silence as a strange mix of emotions surged through him — shock, relief...

  The future which he was trying to rewrite so hard, had still taken its course just like Bo City’s fate, but the outcome this time was different.

  Leng Zhan survived in this life!

  His actions three years ago had changed the outcome. Even if it was just a small shift — it was enough to give Leng Zhan a fighting chance.

  Mo Fan clenched his fists under the table. As long as someone is alive, there’s hope. But death… is final.

  He didn’t know what expression to wear in front of Old Bao. Relief? Guilt?

  Truth be told, he wasn’t that emotionally attached to Leng Zhan. They had met only briefly. But… the pain Lingling might feel — that ached in his heart.

  And yet… he couldn’t openly show how relieved he was. Not without arousing suspicion from Old Bao.

  So instead, Mo Fan said,

  “I’m sorry…”

  His voice was guttural, shaking with sadness. His eyes welled up with tears, his expression turning unbearably miserable.

  His tears dripped into his chocote shake, and he choked with sobs like a child.

  Old Bao stared at him, stunned for a moment, before his heart softened.

  He reached out and gently ruffled Mo Fan’s hair with his rough, old hand.

  “I didn’t tell you this to make you cry, brat,” he said quietly. “What happened with Zhan… that’s fate too, I suppose. But at least he’s alive...”

  Mo Fan sobbed harder, though part of him hated himself for it.

  He wasn’t lying about the guilt — but the tears… those he forced, triggering extreme sadness within himself.

  He had to be careful. If Old Bao ever suspected that he knew something — or had anything to do with Leng Zhan’s condition — he would never forgive him.

  It was Kazuaki’s fault.

  That cursed snake in the grass.

  Mo Fan gritted his teeth internally. No… he wasn’t faking his resolve.

  It wasn’t a lie… not entirely. But it was still manipution.

  Yet what else could he do?

  He truly was sorry. Sorry that fate still shed out at good people despite all his efforts to change it. Sorry that Lingling had to grow up like this. Sorry that he could never be honest.

  Leng Zhan was alive.

  And if there was even a sliver of hope — then Mo Fan would find a way. He had to.

  The sound of soft, hurried footsteps echoed from the wooden staircase.

  Both Mo Fan and Old Bao instinctively straightened. Mo Fan quickly wiped the wet trails from his cheeks, while Old Bao snapped back into action, assembling the sandwich as if nothing had happened moments before.

  Down came Lingling, her twin ponytails bouncing with every hop. She had changed into her casual wear — a white T-shirt with a cartoon rabbit on it and a pair of pink shorts. Her summer hat was gone, and her cheeks were still slightly flushed from the heat.

  She trotted across the cozy lounge and, after a short struggle, climbed up onto the tall bar chair next to Mo Fan, pnting herself with an exaggerated huff.

  Mo Fan kept his head turned, sipping on his chocote milkshake, pretending to be deeply invested in the ice cubes floating on top. Old Bao, meanwhile, acted equally nonchant, as if he'd been focused solely on his sandwich-making duties all this time.

  Thuck.

  Old Bao set a pte down in front of Lingling — triangle-cut sandwiches, edges slightly browned.

  "Here... How many did you eat already?" Old Bao asked, his tone mild but suspicious as he noticed chocote stains glistening at the corners of her lips.

  Lingling blinked innocently, then looked away. “...One.”

  Old Bao raised an eyebrow. Liar.

  He slowly turned his gaze to Mo Fan, the perpetrator who had given her the box of chocotes.

  Mo Fan, for his part, took another sip of his shake and promptly turned his head the other way, pretending the decorative light on the wall was suddenly very interesting.

  Old Bao sighed, muttering, “Just what I’d expect from children…” He shook his head and sat down across from them, choosing not to press the matter further.

  “So,” he said, his voice a little heavier now, “What were you up to all this time?”

  Mo Fan set his drink down, turning back around. His smile returned. “Right — I’ve got a lot to tell you!” he said.

  Old Bao leaned in slightly, a little curious.

  Lingling, meanwhile, had slowed her chewing. Her sharp eyes narrowed on Mo Fan, scanning him carefully.

  There was something weird about him — a strange familiarity she couldn’t pce. It felt like she had known him for years, even though this was their first real meeting. Still… he brought chocotes. That earned him some points.

  “So,” Mo Fan began, “after the camity, I had to go off the radar. Things got complicated… I became a target for the Bck Vatican.”

  “B-Bck Vatican?!” Old Bao and Lingling excimed in unison, their eyes widening in disbelief.

  The words “Bck Vatican” didn’t get tossed around lightly. Everyone — even children — knew what they were.

  After all, the Bck Vatican was the most vile and dangerous terrorist organization in the world. Their danger y in their destructive tendencies and their invisibility — no one could track them.

  A cult that wore no face, walked among civilians, and had infiltrated nearly every major organization. Yet nothing can be done about it.

  “Yeah. Apparently, I was the st person seen with the Bo City’s treasure — the Underground Holy Spring. The very thing those scumbags attacked the city for. That’s why I had to disappear until things cooled down.”

  Old Bao’s expression darkened. “The Holy Spring… I remember the rumors. You were involved in that?”

  Mo Fan scratched the back of his neck, wearing a wry smile. “Kind of. I was entrusted the spring to protect it during the chaos… and there was only one option to do so... So I… well, I drank it.”

  “You what?!” Old Bao shouted, eyes bulging in disbelief. He grabbed Mo Fan’s colr and shook him back and forth, “You drank the Holy Spring?? How are you still alive after drinking so much??!”

  Lingling blinked, confused. She didn’t know what the Holy Spring was — but judging from Old Bao’s reaction, it had to be something huge.

  “Ahaha... well, I came to Shanghai not long after,” Mo Fan continued. “I have a pce near Hongqiao Airport. Stayed with my little stepsister for a while before she went to Hangzhou to study at Zhejiang High School. It was… peaceful. I kept a low profile. Trained. Studied. You know — the usual.”

  “No no no! Hold on a goddamn minute, Go back! You really drank the entire thing? The Holy Spring? How did you not die??”

  “What do you mean? It just tasted like normal mineral water...” Mo Fan shrugged as if Old Bao was the weird one here.

  Old Bao just stared at Mo Fan as if he was figuring out whether the kid in front of him was just lucky or really retarded...

  _Either he actually drank it and somehow survived... Or he’s lying about drinking it..._ Old Bao thought about two possibilities.

  Apparently Mo Fan didn’t drink the Holy Spring. Old Bao’s tter theory was correct! The entire Holy Spring of Bo City still existed within one of Mo Fan’s Space Rings.

  Mo Fan had hundreds of Space rings just floating around in his Space Pocket at this point in time.

  “Anyway, I had my interview with Pearl Institute today in the morning. And I cracked it,” he added with a proud grin. “Csses will be starting next month and I’ll be living in the dorms after that.

  Noticing how Mo Fan tried to subtly shift the topic, Old Bao grunted in approval as it proved his second theory. “Pearl, huh? Its a good college. Better Opportunities.

  “Pearl Institute? You?” Lingling scoffed. “Guess their standards have dropped. Since when does Shanghai’s top magic institute accept hobos like you?”

  She tried to sound mature, but to Mo Fan, it just came off as adorable. He wasn’t offended in the slightest — instead, he chuckled and ruffled her hair.

  Pat. Pat.

  “Ugh, don’t touch me!” Lingling flinched away, clearly offended by being treated like a child.

  “Well, let’s just say I’m actually way more amazing than I look~” Mo Fan said smugly.

  “Yeah, right!” she huffed, grabbing her sandwich and hopping down from the chair. She scampered off to the lounge, where Little Wolfy was curled up asleep in a patch of sunlight on the table.

  Mo Fan smiled as he looked at her, then turned serious.

  Can we get some bounties I need money please.

  Old Bao also looked at Mo Fan with some surprise, then said, "Welcome to our agency. Since you've joined, then complete this first bounty with your partner."

  "Okay," Mo Fan replied, then extended his hand and said, "Lingling, please guide me from now on."

  "Don't you have any questions?" Little Lingling looked at Mo Fan with some surprise.

  Many foolish people who came to apply would question her.

  But Mo Fan didn't.

  "If you didn't have something special, Grandpa Bao wouldn't let you handle a bounty, right?" Mo Fan said with a smile.

  "Alright, you've initially gained my approval," Lingling said, looking at Mo Fan with appreciation after hearing him.

  "..."

  Evening, Masterpiece Private Garden.

  "Why are you so te?" The loli Lingling stood with her hands on her hips, looking annoyed.

  "It's not dark yet, is it? So, any discoveries?" Mo Fan ignored the little girl's compint and instead asked a question.

  "See for yourself," Lingling handed Mo Fan a very miniature ptop.

  Then, Mo Fan saw the surveilnce footage inside.

  "Let's go to the rooftop. If anything happens, we can act immediately," Lingling said seriously.

  "Okay."

  Mo Fan agreed and followed Lingling upstairs. As he ascended, he was still wondering whether to let the other party escape.

  If he didn't let the Scaly Skin Demon Mother escape, he might not get his Spirit Thunder and Soul Essence. But if he let her escape, it would mean the freshmen would be affected by a wave.

  Although there would be no real danger, many young girls would be shocked.

  But then again, every man for himself.

  So, in the end, Mo Fan decided to give the Demon Mother a pass.

  He would just kill her in the Sports Center before her final action began!

  Soon, during the monitoring process, they saw the female demon shedding her skin to cause trouble, and then the male demon transforming and being dealt with by Mo Fan.

  "I didn't expect you to be quite powerful," Lingling praised.

  On the rooftop, Lingling checked the charred corpse of the shed-skin male demon while maintaining contact with Mo Fan.

  "I was a bit careless; one got away. Let's send him to the hospital first," Mo Fan said.

  "Mhm."

  After sending the man to the hospital, Lingling went back to investigate the matter of the shed-skin demon. As for Mo Fan, he was bored and cultivating.

  There was nothing he could do but wait quietly until the female demon made her move.

  Finally, after a week, Lingling arrived at the school with her ptop.

  "Lingling, have you figured it out?" Mo Fan asked.

  "See for yourself."

  Lingling took out her tablet and pced it in front of Mo Fan.

  "This isn't just any electronic map, oh. As long as I input the blood data of that demon mistress, this electronic map will immediately dispy the location of the mistress containing her blood, no matter which district she hides in, or if she jumps into the byrinthine sewers of the Demon City, we can immediately pinpoint their location!" Lingling continued, at this moment, she was no different from a little girl showing off her new dress.

  "Amazing, amazing!"