Chapter 150
Jiang Jitang’s home was still the same as before. Even though he had become the general manager of the Eastern District and begun a new life, his essence hadn’t changed.
The first visit was as a guest, the second as an acquaintance, and the third—well, now he was practically family. So Jiang Jitang flopped onto the sofa, neither serving tea nor greeting anyone. He picked up a washed apple, wiped it off, and tossed it to Parsons: “Want an apple?”
He picked up one himself and bit into it with a crisp crunch. It was a crunchy variety.
Parsons didn’t act like an outsider either. He bit his apple, sat down, and pulled out a small ring box from his bag, opening it carefully.
Jiang Jitang put down his apple and grabbed his DSLR camera, switching to video mode on the table.
“Why keep it in this tiny box? It’s so small.” There wasn’t even a proper little bed. Jiang Jitang felt a pang of sympathy for the little creature. Though they hadn’t spoken of it much outside, it didn’t mean they didn’t care.
“We’ve made a little walnut bed and reserved a few eggshell houses, not sure which it’ll like.” Parsons had even taken out a half walnut, polished it, lined it with soft pink fabric, and added a tiny pillow with lace—a very girlish touch.
“Wow.” Jiang Jitang stared at the tiny whimsical walnut bed in astonishment and poked it with his fingertip. It wobbled slightly. “Oh!” He poked it again.
“Do you think it’ll hatch into a Thumbelina?” Jiang Jitang looked at Parsons expectantly.
“Well…” Parsons was stumped; he had no answer either.
“Maybe it’ll hatch a Frog Prince,” Jiang Jitang mused, recalling their brave little frog prince, full of courage.
For a long while, the two studied the tiny magical creature egg, speculating what kind of tiny creature might hatch from this egg, no bigger than a cod liver oil capsule.
Really, anything was possible—magical creatures were, by nature, unscientific.
“If it’s plant-type, we set up a tropical terrarium. Water-type? Then a fish tank…” Parsons diligently prepared a small notebook. For any type of magical creature, he could quickly prepare an appropriate little home.
Seventeen players had successfully contracted magical creature “dolls,” of all ages and types. Long queues formed daily for new arrivals.
The few determined seekers of secrets visited daily, hoping for a miracle. Parsons passively absorbed much of this information—the appearance and data of existing magical creatures.
When not busy, Parsons would plan the creatures’ houses, food, and mental enrichment—music, art, or exercise? Even though he wasn’t preparing to marry or have children, he seemed set on raising a little one early.
Though raising magical creatures was certainly easier than raising children.
“You’re spoiling it too much,” Jiang Jitang shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that. You have no sense of parental authority this way.”
“What would you do?” Parsons asked.
“Meet its survival needs first, then add extras gradually. No one prepares everything from the start. Like now, all it really needs is…Paci!”
Jiang Jitang tugged Parsons’ sleeve, pointing at the magical creature egg on the table. The egg, much-watched, bulged slightly and a crack appeared, dropping sesame-seed-sized shell fragments.
“Did you get that on camera? Is it about to hatch?”
Excited, he waited for the creature to emerge. But the egg seemed tired; it nudged once and stayed still. Poor father, holding the DSLR for so long, his arms were sore.
Parsons frowned, trying to spot activity inside the egg—but nothing.
“So lazy,” Jiang Jitang fretted, wanting to poke it. “Could it be a little turtle?” The crack was small, with a membrane inside; they still couldn’t see clearly.
The egg seemed to tease them; the more anxious they got, the less it moved.
Talking—no reaction. Playing violin—no reaction. Eating takeout pancakes—no reaction. The afternoon faded into evening; still, it didn’t budge.
Jiang Jitang almost gave up, rising from his reclined position. “Forget it, let’s make dinner. What do you want? Something simple—omelet rice?” Parsons didn’t respond immediately.
“Paci?” Jiang Jitang, at the kitchen, turned in confusion. Parsons was pointing at the magical egg—it wobbled, increasingly so.
It’s hatching?!
Jiang Jitang rushed over quietly, squatting by the table.
Both fathers’ eyes were fixed. The egg’s movement accelerated. A crisp snap sounded as the shell split, releasing a dazzling light.
When the light faded, a translucent, pale-blue mushroom stood in the ring box where the egg had been.
Its cap was crystal-clear, glowing with a Paraiba-like bright blue, dotted with tiny snowflake-like white spots. The stem was white, smooth like sheep-fat jade, delicate and soft.
The tiny mushroom wiggled its thin stem, and with a snap, two round eyes appeared under the cap. Two smaller arms emerged beneath the white ring.
“Mush-mush,” it squeaked in a tiny voice, making the two tough men shiver.
“It’s born!” Jiang Jitang hugged Parsons, jumping and shouting, forgetting his granted super strength, and they toppled onto the sofa together.
Parsons was stunned, instinctively supporting his fragile friend. From a distance, it looked like an embrace.
Excited as they were, they didn’t notice the “click” of the door behind them, nor Jiang Sujin’s stiff smile as she entered.
Tiptoeing in to surprise her son, Jiang Sujin froze.
“Mom?” Jiang Jitang noticed his mother from the corner of his eye. He scrambled off Parsons, quickly tidying his messy clothes, signaling Parsons to hide the little creature. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I could’ve picked you up!”
“Mom?” Parsons blinked, following Jiang Jitang’s gaze to see a woman from C-Nation, slightly resembling his friend, standing at the door.
In an instant, his mind buzzed, but he quickly straightened up, arranged his appearance, and politely scooped the little blue mushroom: “Hello, ma’am.”
The little mushroom was transferred into its eggshell house, looking dazed with spirals above its head. “Mush-mush?”
“You’re the baby’s friend, right?” Jiang Sujin smiled politely, recognizing her son’s “handsome friend.”
First impressions were brief; she quickly left the impression: “Really handsome.” Her son’s taste in looks wasn’t changing.
Parsons glanced at Jiang Jitang: “Baby?”
Jiang Jitang shot him a stern look: don’t call me that.
Parsons averted his gaze, saying nothing.
‘Flirting in front of me?’ Jiang Sujin was shocked. Had she been away too long? She wasn’t used to her child’s new way of interacting.
She was curious how her son had made a foreign handsome friend but refrained from asking, trusting and respecting his privacy.
She wheeled in her suitcase, scanning the house carefully—no extra pets. Everything looked the same. She was even more confused: earlier, they were so excited, rolling around shouting “It’s born! It’s born!”—what had been born?
Curious, she asked bluntly: “You just said ‘it’s born.’ What’s born?”
Parsons instinctively looked at Jiang Jitang, who calmly lied: “Watching a live stream. A little snake was born—it’s Paraiba blue, so pretty. Mom, do you want to see?”
Except for the subject being wrong, everything else was accurate, including Jiang Jitang’s excitement.
Snake? Instantly, Jiang Sujin withdrew her curiosity. She turned to Parsons: “So late, let’s eat dinner together.”
“I should treat you,” Parsons said, having planned what to say when meeting her for the first time—but plans couldn’t account for surprises, just like preparing a home for the magical creature—he thought of everything except fungi.
“Haha, don’t be so formal. Baby talks about you often. There’ll be plenty of chances to eat together.”
Parsons relaxed, sensing her kindness and acceptance.
This was his friend’s family—people who had turned him from a rigid rebel leader into Jiang Jitang. They weren’t dazzling like his friend but radiated warmth and inclusivity.
For dinner, they went to “Yi Wan Xian” Chinese restaurant, where Chef Zhang worked.
Coincidentally, Zhang was hosting old friends and, hearing Jiang Sujin returned, came to welcome them.
“Teacher, I’ve missed your beef brisket soup abroad. Just back today, I had to come here first. Here’s a little gift for you—see how best to enjoy it.” Jiang Sujin, respectful, presented carefully selected foreign ham.
Chef Zhang, experienced, could tell sincerity from pretense. Surprised, a pang of emotion welled up—this half-day disciple had earned recognition.
Jiang Sujin’s skill now surpassed him; she could stand as his peer. Yet she still acknowledged him as her teacher.
“Good to be back. See, even a short trip changes your aura.”
A group of chefs gathered, discussing food and techniques. Jiang Sujin didn’t sit long, heading to the kitchen to exchange ideas.
She gifted a large foreign ham; someone suggested using it in a dish, blending tradition and innovation.
Jiang Jitang immediately dragged Parsons to attend the lesson. If he could learn from others, he certainly couldn’t miss his mother’s class.
He listened intently as chefs shared tips. Parsons watched, then impulsively said: “Baby.”
Jiang Jitang shivered, goosebumps rising, ears red: “Don’t call me that. Not allowed. Don’t—”
He spoke softly, fearing anyone would hear. Parsons looked away, smiling slightly.
The chefs enjoyed the evening, exchanging insights and meeting a new talent. Jiang Jitang enjoyed learning, eating, and being immersed in life.
Parsons experienced a life he’d never known—Jiang Jitang’s life, with his family, his past, and his other nickname.
Satisfied, he could ask: where to get the genuine experience?
They returned home after nine. Parsons said goodbye at the door. After he left, Jiang Sujin pulled Jiang Jitang inside: “Confess freely, resist harshly.” Parsons and Jiang Jitang—what was their relationship? Just friends?
Jiang Jitang’s hairs stood on end: what secrets? I have so many—Cube World, foreign support, magic, system…
“Dear mom, I don’t want to lie, but let me keep some secrets, okay?” Not knowing which one she meant, Jiang Jitang kept everything hidden until asked directly.
Jiang Sujin was silently amazed—when did her son learn such tactful yet straightforward, sincere, and subtly persuasive speech? She couldn’t press further.
“If you really don’t want to say, I’ll act like I didn’t ask.”
She said it aloud but thought: silly boy, the more you avoid, the more there’s something to it. These two’s relationship clearly isn’t purely platonic.
She wondered how her tall, handsome son, who didn’t attract the opposite sex, ended up attracting the same sex instead. Jiang Sujin couldn’t understand.
“Mom, this time you’re not leaving, right?”
“No, I saved some money to rent a shop and open a restaurant.” Her eyes sparkled like stars. “Baby, mom will have her own shop and become the head chef!”
Jiang Jitang’s smile was radiant. He raised his hand: “I volunteer to angel-invest in Mrs. Jiang.”
“You? Baby, you just graduated, where’s the money?” Jiang Sujin shook her head. “A restaurant costs more than a few tens of thousands. Keep your earnings from work.”
“I’m in a special government position with a monthly salary of one million. Plus additional income. I have ten million in hand now.”
Her first reaction: disbelief. Jiang Jitang never lied to her. “Really? Is the job dangerous?” How could an easy job pay so much?
“That’s my first little secret. Mom, swear to stay calm. I’ll explain slowly.”
“Okay, I’m calm.” She was already losing calmness.
Jiang Jitang selectively explained the Cube World, how he became a player by chance, not joining formal dungeons but participating differently—once as a healer, once as a transdimensional courier.
So much had happened; concealing it from outsiders was possible, but not from family.
Moreover, he still delivered items. Signs would inevitably show. His mother was perceptive; better to reveal part of the truth.
Earning ten million in one month was extreme; without explanation, she wouldn’t trust the ease of his wealth, and might refuse his money.
“Courier? Otherworldly courier?”
Overwhelmed, Jiang Sujin couldn’t tell if she was dreaming or drunk.
“This money—part treatment fees, part bonuses. The government values what I gain through two-world material exchange. Irreplaceable, high value. But most precious are the people I meet during these trades.”
Jiang Jitang led his mother upstairs, to the shelves holding his gifts, pointing at a picture of a street vendor: “Mom, this was from my first task, he’s…”
