Chapter 34
When Su Ci asked his question, Number Three clutched the metal ball in his small hands tighter. Even his tiny feet, clad in child-sized shoes, subtly shuffled backward, as though he were preparing to flee at any moment.
But in the end, he did not run.
The child raised his head. His large, round, sky-blue eyes, which once sparkled like a clear summer sky, were now dull and unfocused. Set within his delicate and adorable face, they evoked an involuntary sense of pity in others.
Number Three slowly turned in the direction of the voice. Then, very, very slowly, he nodded.
“Yes…”
The soft, whisper-like voice sounded like a freshly steamed glutinous rice ball coated in powdered sugar—sweet and irresistibly tender.
Su Ci was a bit surprised. Beside him, the young boy next to him had his eyes widened in astonishment.
“So you can talk, huh?!”
The boy circled around Number Three, standing and crouching like an inquisitive little dog, observing him as if he’d stumbled upon a great discovery.
“I’ve been in the nursery so long and never heard you speak! I thought you couldn’t talk!”
The boy spoke with excitement, his fluffy tail wagging enthusiastically behind him. Even the tuft of hair on his head quivered in delight.
Among the many children at the nursery, Number Eight got along best with Numbers Four and Five. Though he sometimes made Five cry, and Four would occasionally hit him for it, he still enjoyed playing with the siblings.
He spent most of his time fighting with Numbers Six and Seven, especially Number Six. From his first day at the nursery, he and Number Six couldn’t get along.
The oldest, Number Two, was the most short-tempered of them all. Over the past year, he had become much stronger and had started breathing fire constantly. Without Number Four accompanying him, Number Eight avoided provoking him.
Number One was the most mysterious; even now, Number Eight hadn’t seen him.
As for Number Three, he was the least noticeable among them all.
Although Number Three was stunningly beautiful—arguably more so than Number Five—his blindness and silence made him almost invisible. He was like a ghost, and even when fights broke out, no one called on him.
Number Eight once overheard adults from the repair team saying that Number Three might have autism. His blindness was congenital, and even the most advanced medical technology couldn’t cure it.
His eyes would likely remain like this for the rest of his life.
Number Eight didn’t know what autism was. Maybe it was an incurable disease? He had never disliked Number Three and now felt even more sorry for him after learning about it.
He imagined how maddening it would be to live in perpetual darkness. He wouldn’t be able to last an hour—no, not even ten minutes. Living such a life every day would drive him insane.
But maybe Number Three had never seen the light. Maybe he was just used to the darkness?
Even so, Number Eight couldn’t help but pity the little guy. Aside from the infuriating Number Six, no one else had the heart to bully him.
Thinking of his “nemesis,” Number Eight’s mood soured, and his wagging tail stilled. But when his gaze returned to Number Three, he quickly donned a friendly smile again.
Even though Number Three couldn’t see it.
“Number Three, your voice is so cute!”
Number Eight crouched beside the child, maintaining eye level with him. His bright eyes locked on Number Three as he spoke cheerfully.
“Do you want to learn the flute too? Let’s learn together!”
Su Ci watched the interaction with great interest.
Of course, most of the dialogue was one-sided from Number Eight.
He wondered if this little wolf pup had forgotten there was only one flute available. If he gave it to Number Three, he wouldn’t have one for himself.
Number Eight, however, seemed oblivious to the problem of limited flutes. He continued chattering away at Number Three, as though they were old friends.
Under this onslaught of enthusiasm, Number Three’s grip on the metal ball tightened even further.
Though his expression and gaze showed little change, Su Ci could sense that the child was on the verge of fleeing.
If he had a tail, it would probably be bristling by now. Did this child even have a tail?
Watching their interaction, Su Ci found it incredibly entertaining.
Number Three must have truly wanted to learn. Otherwise, facing the overwhelming enthusiasm and chattiness of Number Eight, he would have bolted long ago.
Moreover, despite his lifeless blue eyes, the child kept them directed toward Number Eight. Although blind, he could accurately pinpoint his location. Indeed, no cub accepted into the nursery was ever ordinary.
Teaching one or two made no difference to Su Ci, and he didn’t mind recruiting a couple more disciples for the Sound Sect.
What’s more, the sect’s teachings primarily aimed to cultivate inner peace and improve practitioners’ control over themselves. Learning these skills would greatly help the two cubs suppress and manage the power of their bloodlines. If they succeeded, it might reduce the likelihood of them going berserk, helping them maintain a stable state. Tragedies like 4583 could then be largely avoided.
“All right, I’ll accept your deal,” Su Ci said as he placed his palm on Number Three’s head, gently pinching his soft, furry little ears with his fingertips.
The small ears, fluffy and tender, felt so fragile they seemed like they’d break with the slightest force. The sensation was intoxicatingly pleasant.
It was a slight regret that he couldn’t pet Number Eight’s big tail, but Su Ci figured that if he were to make such a request, the little one before him would probably flee immediately.
Even just the soft pinch of his ear caused Number Three to clutch the metal ball in his arms tightly. A blush appeared on his fair, tender cheeks, and his unfocused eyes seemed to glisten, as if from holding back his breath. He looked even more like a delicate, lovely little girl.
Seeing him endure it so painfully, Su Ci kindly withdrew his hand. The little one visibly relaxed but remained stiff, as if bracing for further touch.
For Number Three, having his ears touched must have been a significant sacrifice.
In stark contrast, Number Eight immediately perked up when Su Ci spoke. His attention snapped away from Number Three, and he rushed to Su Ci’s side, grinning broadly, his eyes curving into crescents of joy.
It was the first time Number Eight had smiled so happily since coming to the nursery.
“Deal! It’s settled!” he cheered. “Yes! I get to learn the flute!”
Watching the lively cub bounce around exuberantly, Su Ci couldn’t help but question whether this little wolf pup could actually succeed.
The old master of the Sound Sect often said that practicing music required both talent and diligence. Whenever the old master looked at Su Ci, there was a mix of envy and regret in his eyes.
Su Ci had talent but lacked the dedication, preferring to indulge in his peach blossom wine instead.
Every time the master grumbled about wasted talent and Su Ci’s appetite distracting him, Su Ci would just turn a deaf ear and polish off all the wine.
The master never considered that if not for his exceptional peach blossom brew, Su Ci might never have joined the Sound Sect or studied music under him in the first place.
And now, he wouldn’t be teaching the sect’s inheritance to these two cubs standing before him.
Beside him, Number Three’s blush slowly faded as his face returned to its usual blank expression. Still, it was clear he was happy, though not as visibly as Number Eight.
At that moment, as if sensing something, Number Three’s expression shifted slightly. He turned his head toward the caretaker, tilting it curiously.
Was this… sadness? No, it seemed more complex than that.
Before he could delve deeper into the emotion, Su Ci cleared his thoughts and gave a soft cough.
The rowdy little wolf pup immediately quieted down. With a keen sense of timing, he leaned his head toward Su Ci’s hand, practically offering his ear for a pat.
Truthfully, Number Eight’s ears were larger and thicker, exuding a silky softness. Unlike Number Three’s delicate ears, they could be kneaded without worry of breaking. From a tactile perspective, Number Eight’s ears were undeniably more satisfying to touch.
Su Ci found himself reluctant to let go, especially as the little wolf’s face and neck turned redder over time. His expressions alternated between embarrassment and frustration, yet he stubbornly endured, making the scene all the more amusing.
“Are you done yet?!”
Finally, the little wolf couldn’t hold back. With a face full of shy annoyance, he glared at Su Ci. But the moment his gaze met Su Ci’s lazy, nonchalant eyes, his boldness evaporated.
His tone softened immediately. “I… I mean, you’ve been petting me for so long. You only touched Number Three once…”
The next sentence was a soft mumble, clearly expressing dissatisfaction with the unequal treatment. Then, Number Eight continued, “So… can we start learning now?”
Su Ci didn’t tease him further and nodded in agreement.
Overjoyed, Number Eight quickly grabbed Number Three and had them both sit neatly in front of Su Ci, tilting their little heads expectantly as they prepared to listen to the lesson.
However, Su Ci didn’t start teaching right away.
He glanced at Number Eight, then at Number Three’s eyes. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke to the little wolf cub, “I’ll teach you the basics first, and then you can teach Number Three.”
Since the child couldn’t see, learning would require more patience and time. Su Ci, however, had other matters to attend to and couldn’t afford to dedicate all his time to teaching them step by step.
And when there’s free labor available, why not use it?
Suddenly assigned this task, the young boy opened his mouth instinctively to refuse. But after sneaking a glance at the quiet, adorably clueless Number Three, he hesitated and reluctantly agreed.
“Fine, I’ll do it, but… but I have a condition!” Number Eight declared.
“What condition?” Su Ci asked.
“I… I get to touch Number Three’s ears too!”
Number Eight felt that if he were to teach Number Three without gaining anything in return, it would be too unfair. After all, Su Ci had only agreed to teach him after he allowed his own ears to be petted.
And his ears had been petted for so long! While Number Three only got a quick touch!
Still, Number Three was so pitiful already—it wouldn’t be right to demand something too significant. A simple condition like touching his ears seemed just right!
“…”
Su Ci paused, glanced at Number Three—who was once again clutching the metal ball tightly—and after some thought, said, “Don’t you have your own ears?”
The young wolf darted his gaze away, finally pouting before stubbornly replying, “Well, if I’m going to teach him, then he has to let me touch his ears!”
Even though he had ears of his own, Number Three’s ears were different—small, soft, and irresistibly touchable. He was dying to know what they felt like.
Due to Number Eight’s insistence, Su Ci turned to Number Three. “What do you think?”
Number Three, usually hesitant in his movements, shook his head quickly this time. His soft, childlike voice replied, “No… I don’t want to…”
Su Ci looked back at Number Eight and shrugged.
Number Eight’s expression immediately fell, his green eyes showing a flash of hurt. But he quickly covered it up, huffing indignantly, “Fine, I don’t care anyway!”
He turned his face away, and as if that weren’t enough, he shifted slightly to the side. The two cubs, who had been sitting shoulder to shoulder, now had a gap the size of a fist between them.
Then, Number Eight sneaked a glance at Number Three.
Noticing that the little boy still showed no reaction—in fact, seeming a bit relieved—Number Eight puffed his cheeks and let out a heavy snort before scooting even farther away.
Now, there was a full arm’s length of distance between them.
Hearing Number Eight’s exaggerated huff, Number Three finally showed a tiny response. He tilted his head slightly, then looked up at Su Ci, waiting for him to begin the lesson.
Number Eight: “…”
He decided he would never talk to him again!
Seeing Number Eight sulking, Su Ci felt a faint urge to laugh but managed to suppress it. Sitting up straight, he picked up the flute in his hands and began explaining the instrument to the two little ones.
His voice was calm and melodious, imbued with a unique charm. As he spoke, even the previously grumpy Number Eight quieted down, his expression softening as he listened attentively.
“The piece I just played is called Shepherd Boy,” Su Ci began.
“What’s a shepherd boy?” asked Number Eight.
“In ancient times, children about your age would tend to livestock, such as sheep or cattle. They enjoyed playing simple tunes like this one while working.”
“What does ‘tending to livestock’ mean?”
The nursery’s activity room was occasionally punctuated with this kind of back-and-forth dialogue. It seemed to be the first time since the nursery’s establishment that such a peaceful and serene atmosphere had graced its halls.
When 4586 returned from dropping off Number Seven and caught sight of the scene, even its mechanical movements slowed reflexively.
The caretaker robot paused at the activity room’s entrance.
Its electronic eye rotated gently, capturing every second of the warm and educational scene within. It recorded everything and saved it to its memory chip, which grew slightly warm from the activity.
Aside from Su Ci, neither of the cubs noticed its arrival. They were too engrossed in the caretaker’s explanation to pay attention to anything else.
Both were at the age where their curiosity about the world and hunger for knowledge were at their peak—especially Number Eight, who was nearly nine years old.
The little wolf cub didn’t dislike learning; he simply lacked the opportunity and someone to talk to him about the things that interested him.
As he listened to Su Ci’s description, he pictured himself in that idyllic “ancient time,” riding a big yellow ox, playing a shepherd’s flute, and wandering leisurely through green, tree-covered hills. The thought filled him with longing.
Number Eight listened with rapt attention, almost as if he could see the scene unfold before his eyes. Even Number Three, with his usually blank and adorable expression, appeared captivated, his face lighting up with awe and wonder.
Since the two cubs seemed to be on bad terms—well, it was more that Number Eight was mad at Number Three—Su Ci had to think of alternative methods to give both a similar learning experience.
His mastery of sound manipulation was second to none. Even his casual words carried an intentional resonance, invoking an auditory narrative.
Under Su Ci’s subtle guidance, the two engrossed cubs unknowingly fell into a vivid illusion, experiencing the world he painted for them.
What Su Ci conjured was merely an ordinary scene from his endless millennia of existence, yet for the two children, it was astonishingly impactful.
This was especially true for Number Three, who had never truly seen the world.
His reality wasn’t as pitch-black as Number Eight might imagine. However, it was blurry and devoid of any color.
From a very young age, Number Three understood that he did not perceive the world with his eyes. The visual information he received from the outside world came entirely through his mental energy.
As Number Three grew older, his perception expanded, and he no longer stumbled and fell while walking like he had as a young child.
He could avoid obstacles in his path, hold a spoon and feed himself, and accurately retrieve his metal ball whenever it fell.
Yet, Number Three knew these perceptions didn’t reflect the world’s true form.
But today, for the first time, he truly “saw.”
A beautiful, vivid world he had never imagined—
The vast blue sky dotted with drifting white clouds, a clear stream with a bed of green grass, tall trees with lush green leaves, and tiny pink and white blossoms blooming among the branches…
So this was what the real world looked like.
He didn’t know the names of the colors, but now he understood what they looked like.
He wanted to etch this scene into his heart forever.
With his strong mental abilities, Number Three understood that the scene before him was an illusion, a creation of the caretaker’s abilities. Yet, he willingly immersed himself in it, not wanting to wake up.
He could almost smell the fragrance of the flowers.
Amid the rich, floral aroma, a shepherd boy riding on the back of a yellow ox crossed a stone bridge over the stream. He held a shepherd’s flute, his fingers dancing lightly as he played a lively and cheerful tune.
So that’s how a flute is played.
When the caretaker played earlier, Number Three had used his mental energy to observe, but all he could make out was a chaotic jumble, offering no clue as to how the instrument was actually played.
From the first day the caretaker arrived at the nursery, Number Three had noticed something different. While he could vaguely discern the outlines of other people, the caretaker appeared as a hazy mist—a walking, dinner-stealing mist.
Number Three didn’t understand it but didn’t intend to investigate either. He preferred being alone and wasn’t interested in uncovering the caretaker’s secrets.
But today was different.
When the caretaker played the flute, Number Three saw light for the first time—he saw scenes he had never encountered in his short life.
That was why, when the caretaker agreed to teach Number Eight to play the flute, Number Three had mustered the courage to step out of his solitude and initiate a conversation.
He desperately wanted to see that world again… and now, here it was.
Beyond the beautiful scenery, he saw a person—a child.
So this is what a person looks like? Is this what I look like? Is this what Number Eight looks like? Is this what the caretaker looks like?
Number Three stared blankly at the shepherd boy, as though peering through the river of time to witness a healthy, free, and joyful soul.
He thought the shepherd boy was incredibly good-looking.
Everything in the illusion was stunningly beautiful… no matter how much he looked, it wasn’t enough…
As Number Three stood transfixed, the flute-playing shepherd boy seemed to notice him. As the yellow ox descended the stone bridge, the boy lowered his flute, turned his head, and waved at him with a warm smile.
Startled, Number Three clutched his metal ball tightly, his back stiffening.
Then, in the blink of an eye, before he could respond to the boy, all the vibrant and enchanting scenes disappeared. His world reverted to the dull, gray expanse he knew so well.
No!
Don’t disappear!
For the first time in his life, Number Three experienced an intense emotional upheaval. He urgently raised his small hand, as though trying to grasp onto something.
But it had been an illusion—how could he possibly catch it?
When his hand clutched at empty air, Number Three blinked, realizing the truth. His long lashes drooped as he prepared to withdraw his hand in quiet disappointment.
Then, a large hand reached out and caught his, gently enclosing his small fist within a warm, soft grip.
It was the caretaker’s hand, extending from the mist to clasp his own.
And then, Number Three heard the caretaker’s soft laughter. “All right, now you know what a shepherd boy is. Let’s continue.”
The sadness and disappointment that had risen within Number Three were suddenly soothed.
He thought to himself, though this strange caretaker often stole his dinner, if he could see such a beautiful world again, he wouldn’t mind giving him all his meals.
Was the shepherd boy from the illusion real? Were there others like him?
Number Three had never felt such deep curiosity or interest in the outside world.
After the caretaker released his hand, he hugged his metal ball tightly once more and tilted his head back toward the mist, listening with renewed attention.
Meanwhile, Number Eight, with a much simpler thought process, didn’t realize that what he’d just experienced was an illusion. He simply assumed it was his own imagination.
“Keep going! I want to hear more!” he shouted joyfully.
The lively boy, carefree and brimming with energy, did remind Su Ci of the cheerful shepherd boy from his memories.
