Chapter 112
Early in the morning, Xue Wei woke from her sleep.
As she opened her eyes, she saw the plump little sparrow perched on the bedpost, meticulously grooming its feathers. Sensing she was awake, it tilted its head to look at her, hopped onto her blanket with its tiny claws, and chirped brightly.
“Chirp, chirp!”
The lively, melodious call filled the air, greeting her with energy and cheer.
“Chirp-Chirp, good morning,” Xue Wei replied as she rubbed her eyes and sat up. She glanced at the blanket covering her and couldn’t help but wonder.
Last night… When had she fallen asleep? It had been a long time since she’d slept so soundly, and it seemed she’d had a pleasant dream. Although she couldn’t quite recall the details, the lingering feeling of joy remained in her heart. It was a kind of happiness she hadn’t experienced for a long time.
“Chirp-Chirp, did you tuck me in?” Xue Wei asked.
The little sparrow hopped up and down twice. “Chirp-chirp!”
“So it was the caretaker robot,” Xue Wei realized. Thinking of the cheerful robot covered in cute yellow flower patterns, she couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll have to thank it later.”
Her gaze then fell on the neatly folded nursery uniform placed at the foot of the bed. The outfit for girls was a simple dress, plain and modest in design.
Looking at the uniform, Xue Wei instinctively reached for the pendant hanging around her neck. It wasn’t just an ordinary pendant; it was a space button gifted by her father on her fifth birthday. Inside it were all her belongings.
Because of this pendant, even after losing her parents, she hadn’t been left completely destitute.
Her gaze returned to the uniform on the bed. With a sigh, she made up her mind to take off her cherished dress.
The little dress was one that the lady of the house had made for her by hand. That woman, who had lost her own daughter at a very young age and had never found her, had been deeply fond of Xue Wei.
The lady’s husband—the youngest and most powerful marshal of the Tesi Empire—had agreed to adopt Xue Wei because she bore a faint resemblance to their lost daughter. They hoped her presence might bring the lady some happiness, and she had indeed been treated like a second daughter.
But in the end, she had…
Xue Wei’s rabbit ears drooped lower in sorrow.
“Chirp-chirp!” The little sparrow hopped onto her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek.
“I’m fine,” Xue Wei said, forcing a smile. She slowly took off the dress, reluctant as she was. Although she adored it, she had just arrived and didn’t want to seem like she was seeking special treatment.
After changing into the nursery uniform, Xue Wei glanced around her room once more. She didn’t dislike the environment, but she couldn’t help thinking: It would be nice if there were a window.
The thought flitted across her mind briefly before she pushed it away. She knew she wasn’t in a position to make such requests yet.
She carefully folded the dress and put it away. Then, sitting on the edge of the bed, she began rummaging through her space button.
Her mother had once told her that it was important to prepare gifts when meeting people for the first time, especially when arriving in a new place. It would help her quickly make friends and integrate into her new environment.
What kind of gifts should she prepare?
As the ninth child in the nursery, there must already be eight others. That meant she needed to prepare at least eight gifts.
Xue Wei was feeling a bit troubled.
She hadn’t met the other children yet. She didn’t know if they were boys or girls, let alone their preferences. What should she give them?
Xue Wei recalled her mother’s advice.
For a first meeting, it’s best not to give anything too expensive. Small, thoughtful gifts are ideal—they express sincerity without making others feel burdened.
And among all options, edible gifts are the least likely to go wrong.
Food…
Thinking of this, Xue Wei rummaged through her memory and then retrieved a box about 40×40 cm from a corner of her space button.
The box was made of solid wood, with an antique and elegant design, appearing quite heavy. Yet, in Xue Wei’s hands, it seemed as light as a cardboard box.
She placed the box on the bed and opened the lid, revealing large and small packets of candies, all of which had been previously unwrapped on the outside but remained individually packaged within.
These were candies her father had bought for her. Xue Wei loved sweets, but her mother strictly controlled her daily sugar intake. Her father, unable to bear her disappointment, would secretly sneak her extra candies behind her mother’s back.
But he always bought so many that no matter how much Xue Wei loved sweets, she could never finish them all at once. The leftovers went into this box, accumulating over time until it was full. When she left the Aixi Empire, she packed the box into her space button and had carried it with her ever since.
Thinking of her parents, Xue Wei’s eyes reddened again.
She sniffled, pulled herself together, and began sifting through the candies to check which ones hadn’t expired.
Food stored in a space button doesn’t spoil, but she had only placed the box inside after leaving the Aixi Empire, so there was still a chance some had expired.
Eating expired food could make you sick.
The little sparrow hopped over and joined her, looking here and there as if it was also helping to distinguish the good candies from the bad.
In the end, only four or five packs of candies hadn’t expired. Xue Wei carefully took them out, placed the remaining ones back into the box, and stored the box in her space button.
To Xue Wei, these weren’t just expired candies—they were an everlasting symbol of her father’s love.
After calming herself, she spread a piece of cloth over the bed and poured the unexpired candies onto it.
Over two hundred individually wrapped candies piled into a small mountain. The sweet aroma of the candies quickly filled the room, even through their packaging.
Xue Wei took a deep breath and couldn’t resist unwrapping one to savor. The sweetness melted in her mouth, lifting her spirits as if her parents were still by her side.
Next, she took out leftover craft materials from her space button, cut the pretty paper into uniform squares, and folded them into small, adorable boxes.
She carefully placed five different candies into each box, sealed them, and created eight little gift sets.
Xue Wei packed away the remaining candies and craft supplies, then took out a large piece of colored paper to fold into a simple bag. She placed the candy boxes neatly inside.
And just like that, her preparations were complete!
It was only a little past six in the morning.
Xue Wei glanced at the room’s door. She remembered the caretaker mentioning that the children could go out freely after six in the morning.
Hugging the paper bag, she walked cautiously to the door. As she neared it, the metal door automatically slid open.
Her face lit up with delight. However, when she saw her little sparrow chirping happily and flying out, she quickly followed and called, “Chirp-Chirp, come back!”
She recalled the lady at the administrative office telling her that if she kept Chirp-Chirp with her, it was best to keep him inside her room.
Xue Wei wasn’t sure about the children here, but she remembered her time at the orphanage. Back then, some children had tried to snatch Chirp-Chirp. If she hadn’t arrived in time, she might have lost the friend who had grown up with her.
Clutching the bag of gifts, Xue Wei hurried out of her room. At that moment, a metal door a few rooms down the hall slid open.
A figure stepped out.
Hearing her call, Chirp-Chirp reluctantly flew back and perched on her shoulder.
Both Xue Wei and her sparrow turned their heads simultaneously to look at the figure stepping out of the other room. The boy also noticed her and stopped, turning to look in her direction.
Both of them froze.
Xue Wei studied the boy with golden hair. He seemed to be about her age, with short, light blonde hair that gleamed like sunlight. His round red eyes were strikingly bright, and his features were both delicate and charming, like a little prince from a fairy tale.
Though he didn’t have animal ears atop his head, a slender tail swayed behind him, marking him as one of the nursery’s children.
Rustle, rustle—
The nervous girl hugged her paper bag tighter, and the rustling sound broke the silence.
The boy—identified as Number Six—looked at the bunny-eared girl at the end of the hall, his gaze briefly lingering on the small sparrow perched on her shoulder. Tilting his head slightly, he asked, “Who are you?”
Xue Wei blushed nervously, the pink on her cheeks deepening. She took a deep breath, striving to stay calm, and replied, “H-hello, I’m the new child here.”
“Number Nine and Number Ten?”
The young boy scratched his head, looking a little puzzled. How long had he been asleep? When did the nursery take in a new child?
Xue Wei also blinked in slight confusion before saying, “I’m Number Nine. The caretaker said I could keep my original name, so you can call me Xue Wei.”
The boy nodded, then pointed to the little sparrow perched on her shoulder. “And him?”
“This is my good friend, Chirp-Chirp,” Xue Wei replied.
“Oh…” The boy nodded again. “Did you two come from the same place?”
It seemed like that wasn’t entirely incorrect?
Xue Wei gave a small affirmative sound. After this brief exchange, her nervousness began to fade. She asked, “What about you? What’s your name?”
“Me? I’m Number Six,” the boy said. “You can call me Liu Liu.”
“Nice to meet you, Liu Liu!” Xue Wei said with a bright smile.
Liu Liu didn’t quite understand why she suddenly seemed so happy, but he could sense her friendliness and replied, “Nice to meet you.”
After saying this, he turned and headed toward the elevator.
Surprised by his abrupt departure, Xue Wei froze. She had hoped the conversation would continue, allowing her to make her first friend here.
This boy seemed friendly yet somewhat aloof—a rather contradictory vibe.
Seeing him step into the elevator, Xue Wei, not wanting her first social attempt to end in failure, quickly ran after him, calling out, “Liu Liu, wait for me!”
Fortunately, the boy didn’t let the elevator door close and pressed the open button instead.
As the elevator doors shut after she entered, Xue Wei suddenly realized—wait, she’d forgotten to leave Chirp-Chirp in her room!
She quickly set down her paper bag, then opened her coat pocket. “Chirp-Chirp, hide in here.”
Chirp-Chirp let out a disgruntled chirp but obediently flew into her pocket, curling its round, fluffy body inside.
Liu Liu gave her a curious glance. But… the tiny bird did look adorable and delicate. Even if it could fly, it wasn’t impossible that some of the more athletic kids in the nursery might catch it.
Thinking this, he withdrew his gaze.
Meanwhile, Xue Wei, after hiding Chirp-Chirp, bent down to retrieve a candy box from the paper bag. She then called out, “Number Six…”
“Hmm?”
Liu Liu turned to look at her, seeing the bunny-eared, soft pink-cheeked girl holding out a small, light-yellow box with white stripes toward him.
He looked at her in confusion, only to see the girl shyly smile and say, “This is for you. Please take care of me in the future.”
Number Six wasn’t unfamiliar with receiving gifts. When he was a little monkey, the caretaker, Brother A-Yan, and even Number Two had given him food.
However, this was his first time encountering such a friendly child like Xue Wei.
They had just met, and she was already giving him a gift…
After thinking for a moment, Number Six reached out to accept the gift. While his memories were still fuzzy after his soul fusion, his recent experiences were clear.
He vividly remembered standing outside the dining hall, watching the other children laughing and chatting inside—a scene that left a deep impression on him.
He wanted friends too…
But before, when he had lost the human part of his soul, he didn’t know how to make friends.
“Thank you,” Number Six said, recalling his observations as a little monkey. “Do you need me to do anything for you?”
Seeing him accept her gift, Xue Wei’s smile grew even brighter. She was about to reply when the elevator doors opened.
As Number Six stepped out, Xue Wei quickly picked up her paper bag and followed him. While walking, she said, “I just arrived at the nursery and don’t know much about it. Can you teach me?”
“Hmm…”
Number Six wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep or if any new rules had been introduced at the nursery. However, he knew one rule that would never change.
He stopped walking, his expression becoming extremely serious. Seeing this, Xue Wei quickly stopped as well. She reached into her pocket—actually, she accessed her spatial button—and took out a notebook and pen.
When the little girl pulled out her notebook, ready to jot down his words with great care, Number Six couldn’t help but pause in surprise.
Does Number Nine know how to write? That’s amazing.
Once she was ready, he said, “From nightfall until nine in the morning, you must remain quiet. No loud noises, and try not to make any sound at all.”
As he spoke, Number Six glanced at her pocket.
Inside, the little sparrow blinked its tiny black eyes innocently, completely unaware that it was being indirectly called out. It tilted its head at him in confusion.
Number Six: “…”
Xue Wei, though unclear about the reasoning, carefully wrote down his words word for word.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
Thinking for a moment, Number Six added, “From noon to two in the afternoon, it’s best not to make noise either.”
When he was a little monkey, he had observed that Su Su liked to nap during that time. So, keeping quiet then was important too.
After diligently writing this down, Xue Wei curiously asked, “Why?”
“Because Su Su is sleeping. Waking him up will lead to something terrifying.” In honor of her gift, Number Six gave a detailed explanation.
Su Su? Xue Wei tilted her head. That was the same way 4586 referred to the caretaker… She made a mental note to start calling him that too.
Noticing it was still before nine, Xue Wei lowered her voice and asked, “Is there anything else?”
Seeing how obedient she was, Number Six was a bit surprised. “Not for now.”
Then, he continued walking forward.
Xue Wei quickly put away her notebook, bent down to pick up the paper bag, and followed. In a quiet voice, she asked, “Liu Liu, where are we going now?”
Were they going to meet the other children?
“For breakfast.”
As Number Six answered, they arrived at the dining hall. However, the hall was empty, save for 4586 tidying up the tables. There wasn’t a single other child in sight.
Xue Wei, who had been feeling a bit nervous, immediately let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, Number Six, Wei Wei, good morning!”
The nanny robot noticed them and quickly put down the tray it was holding, zipping over in a hurry. “You must be starving! Let me prepare breakfast for you!”
“Thank you, 4586,” Xue Wei said politely.
Hearing her gratitude, the robot’s electronic eyes turned into two spinning flowers, and it responded in an especially cheerful voice, “Wei Wei, you’re as adorable as Hua Hua!”
Xue Wei smiled shyly.
“Sweet Wei Wei, please wait here for a moment. Breakfast will be ready in no time!”
“Alright, thank you so much.”
“It’s no trouble at all! Feeding the little ones is 4586’s favorite thing to do!”
With that, 4586 zipped out of the dining hall.
Having never seen such a lively robot before, Xue Wei couldn’t help but watch it curiously. When she turned back, she saw Number Six looking at her with an odd expression.
“W-what is it?” Xue Wei asked, puzzled.
Number Six hesitated for a moment before saying, “Robots aren’t real living beings.”
Regardless of which part of his soul was dominant, this belief had always been consistent. Having interacted with more robots without personality settings during his time as a little monkey only reinforced his viewpoint.
However, Xue Wei nodded and replied, “That’s true, but so what?”
“So… why did you thank it? Its compliments about you being cute are just pre-programmed responses…” Number Six trailed off as he noticed Xue Wei lowering her head. His voice became quieter and quieter until it faded completely.
He could keenly sense others’ emotions and realized she seemed sad, which left him feeling awkward. “Are you upset?”
Xue Wei shook her head. After a moment, she looked up and seriously said, “What you said isn’t wrong, but I still like 4586.”
Then, she carried her paper bag over to an empty table, randomly picked a chair, and sat down.
“Chirp! Chirp!”
The little sparrow flew out, chirping at Number Six a few times before landing on the table and affectionately rubbing against Xue Wei’s hand.
Watching her figure from behind, Number Six scratched his head in confusion.
He understood what the little sparrow was chirping about. It was angrily declaring: Our Xue Wei is the cutest in the universe!
Number Six was baffled.
Xue Wei was adorable, but what did that have to do with the topic of robots? Weren’t they discussing whether robots could be genuinely appreciated?
On the first day of regaining his human soul, Number Six found himself confronted with an unsolvable puzzle.
*
Meanwhile, behind the main building of the orphanage.
After breakfast, the other children had rushed into the field and were now busily working. Compared to yesterday, the plants had grown even more lush, and the most exciting discovery was the small green flower buds on the Star Chain Fruit.
The flower buds had not yet opened and were still green. They hung high on the netting—here a few, there a few—tiny and well-hidden under star-shaped leaves. If one wasn’t observant, they would be easy to miss.
But nothing escaped the children’s sharp eyes.
After watering and fertilizing the plants, they loved running around the green field, observing any new changes in the plants. Almost every day brought fresh surprises.
Interestingly, the first to discover the small, green flower buds wasn’t Little Li Hua but the still fully transformed Crimson Flame Tiger, Ran Lie.
Initially, Ran Lie was preoccupied with what to write in his growth diary for the day. If the inspector had checked his diary right then, they would have seen a single entry that read:
“Meow, meow-woo, meow-meow-woo…”
Since Ran Lie couldn’t use his paws to write, he relied on voice input, which resulted in this peculiar text.
So…
He couldn’t just submit another page full of “meows” today, could he? Even though he couldn’t read or write and hadn’t seen others’ growth diaries, Ran Lie instinctively knew that such an entry couldn’t qualify as a proper growth record.
While the other children busily watered and fertilized their assigned plants, the idle and temporarily paw-bound Crimson Flame Tiger could only gaze mournfully at the sky.
And that’s when he noticed the clusters of green buds hidden beneath the leaves.
Excited, he immediately fetched Little Lu Jiao, which inevitably attracted all the other children. They all sat in a neat row under the netting, gazing up at the tiny flower buds.
When Brother A-Yan explained that these green dots were flower buds that would eventually bloom into beautiful flowers, Little Li Hua was utterly captivated.
Real, beautiful flowers… would they really bloom on this harsh prison star, in her life?
Staring at the buds, her eyes were filled with longing and anticipation—and just a hint of nervous trepidation. It was the kind of emotion one feels when a long-cherished dream is on the verge of becoming reality.
The other children, however, weren’t as sensitive or sentimental.
The little wolf pup was busy counting the flower buds, recalling his limited plant knowledge. In his understanding, one bud equaled one fruit.
After asking the AI for confirmation, he received a precise answer: these buds would indeed develop into edible Star-Chain Fruits.
The thought of those plump, juicy, sweet fruits made his mouth water. His eyes shone with desire and anticipation, though the emotions they carried were vastly different from Little Li Hua’s.
Unfortunately, his counting skills left much to be desired.
“1, 2, 3, 6, 5, 7…”
Nearby, Little Lu Jiao, unable to listen any longer, finally spoke up to correct him. At the wolf pup’s pleading, he even joined in, helping him count.
The wolf pup’s enthusiasm for learning was unmatched; no encouragement was needed.
Little Zheng Xing, who had been brought over, crouched beside them, his head slightly tilted back. Although a sweep of his spiritual sense had already told him exactly how many buds there were, he still listened intently to his friends’ counting voices.
It gave him a sense of joy he had never felt before.
Perhaps it was the simple joy of anticipating a bountiful harvest.
