Chapter 35
Urged on by Number Eight, Su Ci resumed his explanation.
This time, however, he didn’t use illusions. Instead, he began introducing the structure of the flute, its functions, and the techniques for producing sound.
Sound cultivation, in essence, was about controlling sound and using it to achieve various effects.
Su Ci didn’t plan to start with the basics for the two cubs. Instead, he integrated sound manipulation techniques into the act of playing the flute, so they would absorb the ability to control sound unconsciously as they learned.
This teaching method was undoubtedly more straightforward and less labor-intensive than breaking down every principle into digestible pieces for them. However, it also made learning significantly more challenging.
Perhaps only children with natural talent and an intuitive understanding of sound cultivation could master it in a short time.
That said, if someone lacked the aptitude, why waste time? It would be better to guide them toward a different, more suitable path.
But if these two children managed to grasp the concept on their own, their progress in sound cultivation would be exponential.
And if they didn’t… well, at the very least, they would learn to play a simple tune or two, which wouldn’t be a problem.
The Sound Sect elder had always said that even without mastering the deeper techniques of sound cultivation, practicing music was a way to nurture the body and refine the spirit. For the two cubs struggling with the power of their bloodlines, it could only be beneficial.
Perhaps because Su Ci didn’t place much expectation on the cubs, he approached teaching with a relaxed attitude, making the lessons feel playful and lighthearted.
Even Number Eight, who usually couldn’t sit still for long, embraced the class wholeheartedly.
Eventually, he reclaimed the flute, but this time, his perspective on the “toy” had completely transformed.
Where before he had wanted to learn the flute mainly to mock Number Seven and reclaim his pride, now he had developed a genuine interest in the instrument itself.
It was just a hollow tube—how could it produce such beautiful music?
Number Eight couldn’t figure it out, but that didn’t stop him from trying earnestly to learn.
Life at the nursery lacked entertainment. With the same old toys and constant scuffles, this new “game” was a refreshing change.
Perhaps interest really is the best teacher, as he picked it up quite well. On his very first attempt, he managed to produce a sound.
Of course, it was just a sound. Playing a complete melody, or even producing accurate notes, would require much more practice.
As for Number Three, who was still sulking in his quiet way… Seeing his pitiful expression and sightless eyes, Number Eight finally pouted, observed the flute a bit more, and then reluctantly handed it to him.
Number Three took the flute, his small hands carefully exploring its length.
His mental energy could only perceive the outline of objects, not their finer details, so he had to rely on touch to feel and understand it.
The child cradled the flute, his delicate movements reverent as though he were touching another world.
Beside him, despite claiming he wouldn’t bother with Number Three anymore, Number Eight couldn’t help sneaking glances at him after passing over the flute.
Then it hit him—Number Three couldn’t see, and the caretaker had already moved on to eating chips instead of supervising. Why shouldn’t he watch openly?
He’d see for himself how this little blind cub planned to learn without his help!
Turning fully, Number Eight folded his arms and fixed his gaze on Number Three.
When he saw the little boy slowly using his fingers to feel the holes one by one, his impatient nature got the better of him. His index finger began tapping rhythmically on his arm.
How long would this take?
Finally, he couldn’t hold back any longer. With a grumble of reluctance, he scooted closer and started explaining the flute to Number Three, even grabbing his hands to help adjust his posture and show him how to hold it properly.
To his credit, the little wolf cub was surprisingly clever when he focused. He remembered all the key points Su Ci had just explained and mimicked them well while teaching Number Three.
Seeing this, Su Ci felt his presence wasn’t needed anymore.
No one could master an instrument in a single day unless they were an extraordinary genius. There was no reason for him to linger. The rest of the time could be left for the two cubs to explore and practice on their own.
And if these two turned out to be such prodigies… well, that would make his continued presence even less necessary.
After finishing his chips, Su Ci casually tucked the empty bag into his space button, stood up, and left the room.
At the door, he encountered 4586, standing with its mechanical arms crossed over its chest in a heart-like gesture. Even its electronic eyes displayed two spinning red flowers, a cartoonishly content and enraptured expression.
The spinning flowers matched the little yellow flower painted on its body.
Perhaps Number Five had used the flowers in the robot’s electronic eyes as a reference when drawing on them?
Su Ci didn’t interrupt 4586’s rapture. While he found a puppet-like robot making such expressions a bit odd, perhaps this was just how modern humans designed them.
After all, based on his understanding, robots’ behavioral patterns were typically pre-programmed by their creators.
He didn’t plan to disturb the caretaker robot, but it had no intention of letting him leave unnoticed.
As Su Ci walked past, 4586 snapped out of its daze, turned to him, and asked in an adorable voice, “Su Su, it’s work hours. Where are you off to?”
“The Medical Purification Center,” Su Ci replied nonchalantly and stepped into the elevator without looking back. The robot didn’t stop him, likely assuming he was going to fetch Numbers Two and Four.
However, before leaving the nursery, Su Ci stopped by his dormitory.
Inside, A-Yan was bent over a small desk, carefully writing.
The heavenly script he was practicing was becoming increasingly clear and complete. Most importantly, as he successfully wrote, the sigil seemed to take shape in his mind.
Focused and serious, A-Yan didn’t notice the faint glow emanating from his body as he wrote.
The soft light enveloped him, restoring a healthy flush to his pale complexion and reducing the redness in his eyes. The transformation was quiet yet profound.
Just then, a distinct wave of energy from the bedroom interrupted his state of flow.
He lifted his head from his notebook, blinking in confusion as he glanced around.
The caretaker hadn’t returned yet… A-Yan sighed and looked back at the notebook filled with his handwriting.
Compared to yesterday, his writing had improved significantly! Despite writing for over an hour, he didn’t feel tired—if anything, he felt more energized.
Maybe the caretaker would praise him today? Examining his work, A-Yan thought with hopeful anticipation.
At that moment, another peculiar fluctuation emanated from the bedroom.
A-Yan glanced in its direction but didn’t immediately respond.
He set down his notebook, dashed to the cleaning robot, and pressed its power button. After ensuring it began working, he hurried to the bathroom.
The pajamas he’d tossed into the washer earlier were now cleaned and dried. He scooped them up, gave them a vigorous shake to fluff them out, and then folded them neatly, placing them on the rack for the caretaker’s convenience.
While he busied himself, the fluctuations from the bedroom grew stronger, carrying an undercurrent of anger.
What could the book be so mad about?
Frowning, A-Yan placed the folded clothes on the rack, then teleported directly into the bedroom.
His ability to teleport from place to place had become impressively smooth and precise.
Upon arriving, he saw the book embedded in the wall, faintly glowing with a pale red light and struggling as though it wanted to break free.
When A-Yan appeared, the Caretaker’s Manual struggled even more violently. But no matter how much it fought, it couldn’t escape the wall—
Every time it attempted to emerge, a faint layer of golden light would materialize on the wall, firmly blocking its efforts. Despite all its thrashing, the golden barrier remained immovable.
A-Yan stared at the manual.
As it struggled, that strange fluctuation—peculiar yet vaguely familiar—washed over him again…
What was this?
Unable to reach it due to his height, A-Yan fetched a chair and placed it under the wall. Climbing onto the chair’s backrest, he balanced on tiptoes, craning his neck to get a better look at the book.
Thump, thump—thump, thump—
The manual continued its relentless struggle. Though it had once been perfectly flush with the wall, its efforts had bent the surrounding metal slightly, leaving small gaps at the edges.
A-Yan stared at the book, leaning in close to observe the red glow. As he did, the crimson in his black-red eyes deepened and spread, an icy, feral rage welling up within him.
Quiet!
Without thinking, A-Yan raised his hand and slapped the book’s cover.
That caretaker doesn’t like noise!
For a small child, his hand seemed almost laughably tiny against the thick manual. Yet, as his palm landed, the manual abruptly stopped struggling.
The golden light that had been restraining the book extended to envelop A-Yan’s hand.
A soothing energy seeped into him, making him pause. The fierce expression on his small face gradually softened.
He blinked, momentarily puzzled by what had just happened. Then he noticed a faint glow emanating from beneath his palm, where it rested on the book’s cover.
Understanding dawned on him. Curling his fingers slightly, he slowly drew out a small cluster of light from within the book.
As the light left, the once-aggressive manual visibly dimmed. It now appeared far more subdued than it had even under Su Ci’s suppression. The flickering soul flame within seemed fragile, as though it might extinguish at any moment.
A-Yan examined the small cluster of light in his palm. It was faint, a pure platinum hue devoid of any impurities or the unsettling red glow that had been in the book.
What was this?
Curious, A-Yan poked the glowing mass with his finger. Then, with a pinch, he divided the already-small light into two uneven portions.
Holding a piece in each hand, he examined them further. The same familiar fluctuations emanated from the light clusters, while the manual no longer emitted any such energy.
So… had he been sensing this light all along?
Just as A-Yan lowered his head to examine the light closely, the Caretaker’s Manual embedded in the wall suddenly convulsed violently, like a last-ditch effort at resurgence.
Simultaneously, the two clusters of light in A-Yan’s hands seemed to be drawn toward the book, as if by an invisible force.
A-Yan instinctively clenched his fists to hold onto them—but he forgot he was still standing on the chair.
Thud—
His sudden movement caused the chair to tilt, and he lost his balance, crashing to the ground with a muffled groan.
Despite the fall, he managed to keep hold of the larger cluster in his left hand. The smaller one, no bigger than a fingernail, slipped through his grasp and zipped back to the book’s cover, merging seamlessly into it.
The Caretaker’s Manual immediately settled down, ceasing all its thrashing and rebellion.
A-Yan warily watched the book, waiting for any further disturbances. After a long while, when it showed no signs of movement, he concluded that it had returned to being a normal, quiet book.
Only then did he rub the sore spot on his head and get up from the floor. Remembering what had happened, he glanced at his left hand.
When he had grabbed the larger cluster of light earlier, it felt as though his hand had generated a suction force. The moment his palm touched the light, it had been absorbed directly into his skin.
Turning his left hand over, he inspected it carefully. It was still small and thin, with rough skin and tiny, cracked scars.
Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the scars seemed fainter now. A warm sensation spread from his left hand, slowly coursing through his entire body.
It felt soothing, like soaking in a warm bath. Even the aches from his fall were gone.
“A-Yan?”
The youth’s gentle voice called from outside, startling A-Yan. His head snapped toward the doorway.
The caretaker had returned! Excited, A-Yan immediately forgot about the book and the light. With a quick step, he blinked into the living room.
Looking toward the door, he saw no one. Turning, he spotted Su Ci standing by the desk, flipping through his notebook.
Remembering what had just happened, A-Yan felt a twinge of guilt. He hesitated before slowly inching toward Su Ci.
Su Ci set the notebook down and looked at the child. Compared to when they’d gone out earlier, A-Yan’s aura was noticeably more vibrant. Moreover…
Reaching out, Su Ci placed a hand on A-Yan’s head to gauge the difference. Then he crouched down, observing the boy closely with mild surprise.
Was it just his imagination? A-Yan seemed taller.
Examining more carefully, Su Ci noted that the child had indeed grown a little—enough that even his loose, oversized pants seemed slightly more fitting.
Still, the growth was minor, almost negligible.
A-Yan shifted nervously under Su Ci’s scrutiny. As he debated whether to confess about the book, the youth stood up.
Su Ci picked up the notebook again and flipped through it. “You truly have a talent for studying heavenly script,” he remarked. “In such a short time, you’ve made remarkable progress.”
The growth, he suspected, was likely a result of the heavenly script practice.
“This is excellent. I’m looking forward to seeing how much more you’ll grow.”
He then tucked the notebook into his space button. Seeing A-Yan’s bashful yet proud smile, Su Ci was about to say more when his eyes caught sight of the dirt-filled can on the coffee table.
“Grow… grow…”
The faint consciousness of the spirit seed spoke up again, its voice weak. It would likely start demanding food soon.
Rubbing his chin, Su Ci approached the can and pulled out a bottle of multipurpose nutrient solution from his space button.
While solid fertilizer had proven effective, he didn’t want to waste the liquid solution either.
With this in mind, Su Ci unscrewed the bottle cap, poured out about 5ml, diluted it with water, and evenly poured the mixture over the soil in the can.
As the nutrient-infused liquid seeped into the soil, the spirit seed’s response was immediate and enthusiastic.
“Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!”
“Ah!” A-Yan exclaimed in surprise.
The once-weak spirit seed now let out jubilant cries, clearly overjoyed. Compared to its reaction to the solid fertilizer, it was far more excited.
“Grow! Grow! Grow-grow-grow!”
“Grow! Grow! Grow-grow-grow!”
The spirit seed’s once sluggish and feeble chants suddenly became crisp and lively.
Curious, A-Yan leaned closer, sensing the little spirit seed’s joy. A thought flashed through his mind: its sprouting might not be far off!
Su Ci, however, wasn’t as optimistic.
While the multipurpose nutrient solution had proven effective—remarkably so—it came with drawbacks. It required double the points of the solid fertilizer and came in much smaller quantities.
Given the spirit seed’s needs, which far exceeded those of ordinary plants, the fertilizer seemed insufficient. Despite A-Yan having fertilized the seed that morning, by late morning, its voice had already weakened, indicating that one dose wasn’t enough.
Ordinary plants required fertilization only once a day, but spirit seeds might need it three times or more.
A single 200ml bottle of nutrient solution, with 5ml used per application and three daily applications for two spirit seeds, would last only seven days.
As the seeds grew, their nutritional needs would inevitably increase, and the already infertile soil would fail to meet their demands. This would necessitate even more fertilizer.
Watching the enthusiastic spirit seed chanting its slogan with renewed vigor, Su Ci pressed his lips together.
Unfortunately, the little spirit seed couldn’t sense the outside world, so it remained blissfully unaware of Su Ci’s concerns.
“Grow! Grow! Grow-grow-grow!”
“Grow! Grow! Grow-grow-grow!”
Its spirited cries, brimming with vitality, seemed to fill the world with hope.
Su Ci exhaled slowly, deciding to deal with the fertilizer issue when the supply ran out.
Afterward, he led A-Yan out of the dormitory.
Given the blood rain weather from the previous day, Su Ci didn’t feel comfortable leaving A-Yan alone at the nursery. The boy was still too weak, and his newly gained empathetic simulation ability made him perceptible to the outside world. Keeping him close was safer.
Before leaving the nursery entirely, Su Ci stopped by the field to water the other spirit seed with the multipurpose nutrient solution.
This spirit seed reacted similarly, letting out even more joyful cries than before.
Just as A-Yan thought it might finally grow properly, it fell silent again, drifting off into a deeper sleep.
Hmph, this little lazy thing! It’s impossible to rely on it to grow properly!
*
As Su Ci stepped out of the nursery’s main gate, the environmental alarm system chimed in with a friendly reminder:
“Current air pollution levels are high. Please adhere to the non-essential travel restrictions and ensure personal protective measures if venturing out.”
Ignoring the warning, Su Ci and A-Yan headed to the hover-bus station.
After a full day and night of operations, order within the base had been largely restored, though some damaged buildings and roads were still under repair.
The hover-bus arrived shortly after. It was empty, with no other passengers.
Once onboard, Su Ci remembered to contact Gu Qingchen. He placed a voice call, and the doctor answered quickly.
“Caretaker Su, I was just about to call you,” Gu Qingchen said. “Number Two’s condition has stabilized. You can pick him up from the medical center when you have time today.”
Su Ci hadn’t contacted Gu Qingchen for the cubs, but hearing this, he replied casually, “Got it.” Then, he asked, “What about Number Four?”
Gu Qingchen hesitated for a moment. “Number Four still needs observation. I’ll let you know once his condition stabilizes.”
“Understood,” Su Ci replied, before shifting to the main topic. “Dr. Gu, do you know anyone at the plantation?”
“The plantation? Why?” Gu Qingchen asked curiously.
“Seeds,” Su Ci answered simply.
Spirit seeds were too difficult to grow. He wanted to see if ordinary seeds would fare better. The land needed vitality, and regular plants could work just as well.
Hearing this, Gu Qingchen’s mouth twitched. He hadn’t expected Su Ci to be so stubborn. After yesterday’s blood rain, he still had the leisure to think about planting seeds—and had even considered the plantation!
Still, as a fellow enthusiast, Gu Qingchen felt a sense of kinship. Seeing Su Ci’s persistence reminded him of his own younger self, slightly improving his impression of the caretaker.
“Actually, I do know someone there,” Gu Qingchen admitted. “I was planning to visit the plantation myself. I can get you some seeds while I’m there. What kind do you need?”
Given his position as a purifier, obtaining seeds wouldn’t be an issue. Besides, he was on good terms with the plantation staff.
Su Ci replied, “I’m already on my way to the plantation.”
“Ah, I see…” Gu Qingchen was momentarily surprised. “Well then, wait for me at the entrance when you arrive. I’ll be there shortly.”
With that, the two ended their call.
A-Yan sat quietly beside Su Ci, listening intently to their conversation.
He thought about the silent seeds at the plantation. Were they going to be planted in the field too? But weren’t those seeds only capable of sprouting in water?
Though puzzled, A-Yan reasoned that if the caretaker planned to do it, then… the seeds would surely sprout!
Swinging his short legs back and forth, he felt both excited and a little anxious.
Part of his nervousness stemmed from the book spirit incident, but another part came from skipping his divine script studies to go out and “play.” Was that really okay?
Turning his head, A-Yan glanced at the caretaker, only to see that Su Ci had closed his eyes at some point.
The soft lighting inside the bus slanted down, illuminating Su Ci in a way that seemed to gather all the light around him. The scenery outside the window blurred into faint shadows, highlighting the calm and serene figure.
Caretaker looks so nice… A-Yan stared in a daze for a long time before snapping out of it.
Was the caretaker asleep?
He mustn’t disturb him.
Turning his gaze away, A-Yan hesitated for a moment before sneaking another look. Then, unable to resist, he scooted closer until he was pressed against Su Ci’s side.
Carefully, he tilted his head and rested it lightly on Su Ci’s arm.
Breathing in the caretaker’s warm and comforting scent, and feeling the closeness between them, A-Yan let out a soft sigh.
He really loved being by the caretaker’s side. The earlier anxiety about skipping his studies melted away.
After all…
After all, it was the caretaker who brought him out~
