Chapter 118
“Sister Xue Wei?”
Seeing Xue Wei lost in thought again, Little Li Hua tilted her head curiously.
Sister Xue Wei was wonderful in every way, but sometimes she acted a little strange, especially the way she looked at her—there was something incomprehensible about it.
Xue Wei snapped out of her daze and gazed into Little Li Hua’s eyes, which resembled her foster mother’s so closely. She opened her mouth to speak but ultimately decided to bury her suspicions deep within her heart.
Even if she shared her thoughts with Little Li Hua and Xiang Yang, it wouldn’t help. She had no way to contact her foster mother and father, and if it turned out she was wrong, wouldn’t that only lead to disappointment for both sides?
So, the words she had been about to say turned into something else entirely.
“But there are two of these hair clips, and I’d like someone to wear one with me. Wouldn’t you help me with that?”
She redirected the conversation to the hair clip.
Xue Wei didn’t insist on giving the clip to Little Li Hua outright. Instead, she proposed a way to achieve her goal without making Little Li Hua feel awkward.
After all, judging by her experience with the marshal, he could be quite stubborn at times.
“This hair clip is only on loan to you. You’ll have to return it to me later,” Xue Wei said thoughtfully, glancing at the girl’s sketchbook. “How about this? You can give me a drawing every day as a token of thanks for borrowing the clip. Does that sound fair?”
To Xue Wei’s surprise, Little Li Hua was overjoyed at the idea of her wanting the drawings. She happily agreed, “Okay! It’s a deal!”
With that, Xue Wei once again pinned the hair clip onto the side of the girl’s hair.
The clip featured a sunflower with petals of a warm orange hue. Her foster mother had said that sunflowers, which bloom facing the sun, were cheerful and radiant—a perfect flower for girls.
Now, with the clip adorning Little Li Hua’s ash-brown curls, it added a vibrant and energetic touch to her look.
“It looks beautiful!”
Xue Wei reached out to gently stroke Little Li Hua’s soft lion ears, her smile brimming with satisfaction.
Back in her classes, teachers often said that those with carnivorous animal bloodlines tended to be more aggressive, with newly awakened cubs being especially prone to this due to their inability to control themselves.
But after interacting with the cubs in the nursery, Xue Wei found this notion to be inaccurate.
Little Li Hua and Xiang Yang, despite their lion lineage, weren’t aggressive at all. Even the overly energetic Lang Ze seemed easier to get along with than some of the children she’d met at the orphanage. And moreover…
Xue Wei glanced at the Crimson Flame Tiger not far away.
Seeing the tiger dozing in the corner with its eyes closed, she couldn’t help but think it truly resembled a large, adorable cat. The supposedly ferocious beast ranked among the “Top Ten Fierce Beasts” didn’t seem all that fierce after all.
She couldn’t help but wish she could pet its ears!
“Sister Xue Wei, what do you want me to draw for you?” Little Li Hua’s voice brought her attention back.
Xue Wei looked down at the girl, opening a fresh page in her sketchbook and, after some thought, replied, “Why don’t you start by drawing something you’re best at?”
The two girls huddled together, discussing, while the other cubs engaged in their own activities. The modified 4583 roamed the green space, realizing it seemed to have less to do now.
Previously, the cubs were confined indoors, and the nursery was a chaotic, oppressive, and dangerous place. But now that they had been let outside, the nursery had become tranquil and harmonious.
When Cen Liang saw this scene, he felt deeply conflicted.
Before coming, he had wrestled with himself for a long time. The image of the Crimson Flame Tiger cub he saw during his last visit lingered vividly in his mind. As an ordinary researcher with essentially zero combat ability, it was natural for him to fear such a notoriously fierce beast—especially one that roamed freely in the nursery without any restraint.
But the thought of the green space behind the nursery building made him unable to sit still.
He had mostly finalized arrangements for the greenhouse project and had submitted a secret report to Director Wu before his departure. Whether she was aware of the planting situation in the nursery’s green space, however, remained unclear to him.
Probably aware? Cen Liang wasn’t entirely sure.
If she disapproved, he was prepared to offer up his experimental greenhouse as an alternative. One way or another, he was determined to preserve this green space.
But with Wu Yunqin currently preoccupied with the anomaly of the mutated garlic seedlings and busy in the lab, it would likely take some time for her to review his report.
While waiting, Cen Liang grew restless. He gathered the perennial plant seeds and some fertilizer he had promised to bring to Su Ci and stealthily made his way back to the nursery.
He’d been loitering outside for quite some time, and as lunchtime approached, he finally mustered the courage to contact Su Ci.
At first, he couldn’t get through.
Luckily, he didn’t give up and tried again, discovering that he was on the nursery’s approved visitors list. That was how he eventually gained entry.
Once inside, Cen Liang felt deeply grateful. At least Su Ci had been sincere when granting him permission to observe and study the plants in the green space.
The thought of those two mutated plants with their incredible growth-promoting abilities set his heart ablaze. But before he could approach the green space, the sound of children laughing and playing reached his ears.
Turning the corner, he was greeted by a scene of harmony.
Even though he had seen it once before, it still filled him with astonishment.
This was a scene that even the most prestigious nurseries in the capital star would rarely achieve.
The issue of bloodline awakening-induced frenzies plagued nearly every family with beast-blooded cubs. Even the most skilled childcare specialists couldn’t fully substitute for a parent’s calming presence during these episodes.
As a result, if the frenzy frequency of a beast-blooded cub exceeded a certain threshold, nurseries would often advise the parents to withdraw the child and opt for home-based care to ensure the safety of other cubs.
This is also why the cubs in the nursery were sent to the prison planet—they had no parents or other relatives to comfort them.
Over the past seven or eight years, the behavior of the nursery’s cubs seemed to justify the daycare centers’ policy of advising against beast-blooded cubs joining collective groups. It was deemed responsible and appropriate.
Cubs with excessively high frenzy frequencies were better raised in family environments rather than placed in collective settings. Even though this often resulted in beast-blooded warriors struggling to adapt to group dynamics as adults, there was no alternative.
Yet now, what was Cen Liang witnessing?
These cubs, clearly bearing beast-like traits, were getting along in harmony and kindness.
For some reason, Cen Liang felt his eyes grow misty. Watching these adorable cubs, he couldn’t help but think of his own children.
They lived on the capital star. Despite providing them with a privileged environment, his inability to accompany them through their growth remained a lingering regret.
Perhaps seeing these cubs so happy, lively, and healthy brought him some solace, which explained his emotions…
Just then, a voice interrupted his thoughts: “Look, it’s the bad grandpa!”
Cen Liang couldn’t help but chuckle wryly.
He turned to see the wolf-eared boy bouncing over to him. Trying to correct the misunderstanding, he said, “Little one, I’m no longer trying to convince Su Ci to leave the nursery. Can we stop with the ‘bad grandpa’ nickname?”
The young boy eyed him suspiciously before replying, “I’m Lang Ze, not ‘little one.’”
“Alright, Lang Ze,” Cen Liang said, nodding. “That’s a very nice name.”
“Of course!” The wolf boy puffed out his chest with pride. “Su Su gave me that name. It has to be good!”
“Hello, Grandpa Cen.”
“Chirp chirp!”
The little white deer, Lu Jiao, also approached, with the small sparrow perched on his shoulder joining in with cheerful chirping. Its shiny black eyes curiously examined Cen Liang.
“Hello, hello,” Cen Liang said with a warm smile. He particularly liked the polite and well-mannered white deer. Seeing the little sparrow on his shoulder also brought him joy.
“I came to check on the plants.”
He glanced around, but when his gaze landed on the Crimson Flame Tiger in the corner, his body instinctively tensed. Forcing himself to remain calm, he asked, “Where’s Su Ci?”
“Su Su isn’t here,” Lu Jiao replied. “He’s probably in the dormitory.”
Of course, Su Su might have also gone to the riverbed.
But that was a secret between Su Su and the cubs, something they wouldn’t share with others.
Hearing this, Cen Liang hesitated and tried calling Su Ci again.
Without the caretaker present, he felt a distinct lack of security—even though the cubs seemed peaceful now, his past impressions were deeply ingrained. Especially considering the fully beast-like Crimson Flame Tiger in the area.
Still, he couldn’t get through.
Cen Liang glanced back at the nursery building, marveling at how carefree this Su Ci seemed to be.
He just left the cubs here, unattended, without a care for potential issues? Was this the confidence of a professional caregiver?
Cen Liang couldn’t wrap his head around it, but he also didn’t want to overstep his bounds.
For now, it seemed that letting the cubs roam freely outside had become a norm here. If he couldn’t adapt, Su Ci might revoke his research access, and that was a risk Cen Liang wasn’t willing to take.
“Alright, I’ll just take a look around. You all can go back to playing,” he said.
However, whether he suggested or hinted, the little wolf cub stayed close, refusing to move away.
To the wolf cub, Cen Liang was still a “bad grandpa” with questionable motives. With Su Su and A-Yan absent, he took it upon himself to monitor Cen Liang closely to prevent any mischief.
Cen Liang had no choice but to soldier on under the scrutiny of two curious cubs, carefully observing the greenery around the nursery.
Gradually, his sense of unease faded, replaced by fascination.
Compared to yesterday, the plants had visibly grown. Several of the Star-chain Fruits plants had even developed flower buds.
Cen Liang quickly began documenting these observations, snapping photos and noting the growth progress. This data would be crucial for studying the properties of those two special green seedlings.
As Cen Liang counted the Starlink flower buds, Lang Ze sauntered over, proudly tilting his chin. “No need to count. There are 648 flower buds.”
Cen Liang nodded calmly, though his heart surged with shock and joy.
These Star-chain Fruits plants had only been planted recently, and they already had flower buds? Could they start blooming and bearing fruit tomorrow?
Moreover, their growth looked impeccable—healthy, robust, free of pests or nutrient deficiencies—clearly outclassing the specimens grown with their soilless cultivation techniques.
Faced with such thriving Star-chain Fruits plants, Cen Liang realized that his prior knowledge fell short.
But he wasn’t discouraged. Studying mutated green plants inherently required breaking away from conventional thinking. Only through diligent observation and research could one build a solid foundation of expertise.
“Grandpa Cen, when will these flowers turn into fruits?” Lang Ze’s tone grew especially sweet when it came to talk of food.
Cen Liang chuckled. “Probably very soon.”
He added, “Star-chain Fruits are self-pollinating plants, so you don’t need to worry about pollination. But for plants like Jade Snow and Emerald Beans, you’ll need to perform artificial pollination.”
Lang Ze looked utterly baffled. Lu Jiao, equally curious, asked, “Grandpa Cen, what does self-pollination and artificial pollination mean?”
Cen Liang began explaining the basics of plant reproduction. The two cubs stayed close, listening intently.
By the time he finished, he realized more cubs had joined the group—Rong Heng had joined the lecture, and even Little Li Hua had dragged along Xue Wei to listen.
They had promised Su Su they’d help with planting, so they weren’t about to miss any knowledge about plants!
The cubs’ eagerness for knowledge touched Cen Liang deeply, and his explanations grew more enthusiastic, filling him with a strong sense of accomplishment. However…
When he accidentally caught sight of the Crimson Flame Tiger cub, whose once-closed eyes had opened and were quietly watching him, he couldn’t help but shiver.
But the beastly eyes didn’t carry any ferocity or wildness. Instead, they seemed imbued with a human-like quality. It was as if through those eyes, one could glimpse the rational and resolute boy hidden beneath the fearsome exterior of the beast.
Cen Liang paused for a moment, then let himself relax.
If that Caretaker Su dared to let the cubs roam freely in the greenery, then it must truly be safe—unconsciously, Su Ci had already established himself as an authoritative figure in Cen Liang’s mind.
With this reassurance, Cen Liang resumed his observations and note-taking on the plants while continuing to share various plant-related knowledge with the children.
The impromptu plant lesson greatly benefited the cubs. It wasn’t until their stomachs started growling that they realized—it was lunchtime.
Right on cue, the gentle yet cheerful voice of 4583 announced, “Little ones, it’s time to head to the dining hall for lunch.”
“Yay! Food time!”
The cubs, who had been crowded around Cen Liang, suddenly scattered like birds. Even the Crimson Flame Tiger stood up, strolling away gracefully, leaving Cen Liang alone and feeling a little lost.
He noted his own growing hunger and glanced at the surrounding greenery. After some hesitation, Cen Liang decided to follow the cubs to the second-floor dining hall of the nursery.
When the cubs noticed him entering, they were visibly puzzled.
“Grandpa Cen, are you going to eat with us too?” Lu Jiao asked curiously.
Before Cen Liang could answer, the voice of 4586 chimed in: “According to regulations, the nursery only provides meals for the cubs~”
The soft, adorable voice delivered a cold and ruthless message.
Cen Liang chuckled bitterly. “You all eat first; I’ll figure something out.”
He decided to skip going back for a break. After a quick meal and a short rest, he planned to dive back into his research on the mutated plants.
Opening the logistics department’s points redemption system, Cen Liang scanned the options. After seeing the nutrient paste that the cubs ate, he made a decisive choice. With a swift motion, he redeemed three cans of beef stew and a pack of instant noodles.
As a mid-level researcher, Cen Liang earned a fair number of points each month, and with subsidies for cultivating crops, his spending was manageable for now.
When the delivery robot finally arrived with his order, the cubs had already finished their nutrient paste.
Then they noticed something unusual.
“Why is Brother A-Yan so late today?” Little Lang Ze was eagerly waiting for roasted meat, but the calm, gentle voice of the older boy never came.
“Could it be because the bad grandpa is here?” he wondered, turning to Cen Liang.
Cen Liang, who was just accepting his delivery from the robot, noticed that the wolf cub, whose attitude towards him had improved earlier, now looked at him with suspicion again.
He wasn’t sure why, but holding his “takeout,” Cen Liang felt a surge of confidence.
He walked over to the cubs’ table, holding up two cans of beef stew, and said, “Kids, thank you for keeping me company this morning. As a token of appreciation, here’s some beef stew for you.”
The announcement immediately drew a chorus of excited exclamations.
Because of Xue Wei’s earlier gesture, the cubs already understood what a “welcome gift” was. Hearing there was meat involved, their eyes lit up.
“Meat!” Little Li Hua clapped her hands joyfully.
“Yay! We get to eat meat!”
Although they were disappointed that Brother A-Yan hadn’t shown up, the thought of having meat cheered them up significantly.
After all, Brother A-Yan was always trustworthy. Even if he didn’t show up at lunch, maybe he’d come in the evening. As for anything bad happening—how could that be possible with Su Su around?
Seeing the cubs’ bright and excited smiles, Cen Liang felt his mood lift.
Or perhaps, ever since arriving at the nursery, he had been in an unusually positive emotional state. He mused to himself, was this what people on the Star Network meant by “cubs healing all wounds”?
Cen Liang ate a box of instant noodles himself and shared the remaining three cans of beef stew with the cubs. Although the slices of meat varied in size, each child got two pieces.
Even Ran Lie, who sat alone at a separate table, received his two pieces of meat.
“It’s not as good as what Brother A-Yan makes,” Lang Ze remarked honestly after stuffing the beef into his mouth.
Cen Liang hadn’t memorized all the cubs’ names yet and didn’t know who “Brother A-Yan” was. He didn’t give it much thought, chalking up the wolf cub’s critique to being picky.
Beef stew was delicious, after all, and it wasn’t cheap—he himself only splurged on one can a week.
In any case, though A-Yan didn’t appear at lunch, the cubs still had their meat and were generally content, gradually warming up to Cen Liang.
This development gave Cen Liang considerable freedom to move about and conduct his research in the nursery.
To his surprise, the cubs returned to the greenery after 2 PM, this time carrying out tables and chairs. They appeared to be getting ready for class.
What stunned Cen Liang even more was that their teacher was the base AI system!
Cen Liang watched in awe. He had never imagined the base AI being utilized in such a way, and the cubs seemed to be responding exceptionally well.
He knew that in the past, caretakers also served as educators, but as more caregivers quit and new ones were hired, the base had reduced its expectations to simply keeping the cubs out of trouble.
Now, Caretaker Su had even proactively expanded the education program for the cubs. This level of dedication was truly commendable!
Even though the actual teaching was done by the base AI, the fact that the cubs voluntarily carried desks and chairs and sat down to study was already an extraordinary achievement.
If it weren’t for the harsh conditions on Prison Star, which had recently become more dangerous, Cen Liang would have seriously considered sending his young daughter here to be taught by Su Ci.
His wife often complained about the challenges of educating their child and the difficulties of their long-distance living arrangement. If only he could bring his family to live on Prison Star…
But, alas, that was just wishful thinking.
Cen Liang sighed, suppressing such thoughts, and returned to his observations of the two small spirit sprouts, meticulously recording his notes.
Meanwhile, as the newest addition, Xue Wei was given her own desk and chair. Due to a lack of information about her academic level, her first session was a placement test.
The test was dynamically generated, with the base AI adjusting the difficulty in real-time based on her response speed and accuracy. For Xue Wei, it was an immense challenge.
She concentrated hard, solving each question without a moment of slack, afraid that poor results might disappoint Su Su.
When Su Ci returned to the nursery with Lu Li and A-Yan from the Demon Flower Valley and arrived at the green space behind the building, he saw the cubs diligently studying.
At that moment, Xue Wei had just finished her test.
She was practically sprawled over the desk, an unusually unrefined posture for someone who always appeared so poised and proper. Unfortunately for her, this uncharacteristic moment was caught by none other than the caretaker.
When she noticed Su Ci’s gaze, she froze momentarily before quickly sitting up straight.
Flustered and slightly embarrassed, she glanced at her focused peers and didn’t dare make a sound. Quietly, she stood and walked toward Su Ci and Xiao Luli.
“Su Su, Number Six, good afternoon.” Xue Wei lifted the hem of her skirt gracefully and curtsied, attempting to regain some composure.
“Hmm.” Su Ci nodded slightly, setting down the canister containing the spider legs on the ground. He was already thinking about sending Lu Li off to join the lessons.
As she watched them walk away, Xue Wei sighed in relief. Thankfully, neither Su Su nor Number Six teased her about her unrefined moment.
Lowering her gaze, she noticed the canister left on the ground.
Why is this canister here? If left in the middle of the path, someone might accidentally kick it!
Xue Wei reached out to the can.
At this time, Lu Li also turned around as if he had sensed something. He saw Xue Wei’s actions and was about to warn her, but he saw –
The little girl picked up the can with her delicate white fingers and deftly took out the can containing the shrunken spider legs and placed it in the corner.
Lu Li froze in place, his round eyes slowly widening, an expression of doubt on his face.
