With Jing Yuan's agreement secured, Yichen nodded, his expression returning to its earlier ease.
"Then, General, let's head back up. It's getting late—I still need to say goodbye to the children."
They returned to the shop above. The back courtyard was still full of laughter.
Yichen crouched patiently, saying a proper goodbye to each child, reminding them to be careful on the way home, and promising they could come play again next time.
Finally, under Bruce-1's escort, the children left reluctantly.
After the commotion faded, the shop returned to stillness. Outside the window, dusk deepened.
Jing Yuan watched, quietly moved.
He looked at Yichen's silhouette as he tidied the toys the children had left behind—then finally asked the question that had been sitting in his chest.
"Mr. Yichen… with your wisdom and power—ranked among the Society—you could pursue cosmic truths and accomplish feats that shake the universe."
"Why… do you pour so much care into these children, whom most would consider insignificant?"
Yichen's hand paused mid-motion. His smile held for an instant—then flickered.
A trace of pain and memory crossed his eyes too quickly to grasp, and then the warm smile returned.
He turned to Jing Yuan.
"General Jing Yuan… can you imagine a child who, from the age of three… is only awake for two hours a day?"
"That was me. For a very, very long time, I couldn't see sunlight, couldn't hear clearly, couldn't run normally. Even staying conscious was a luxury."
"Until… I found the cause myself, and fixed the illness with my own hands."
"And because of that, I happened to catch the gaze of Nous—the so-called 'Genius' title followed."
He continued, voice steady.
"I was lucky. I had the ability to climb out of that mire."
"But there are countless people like Xiaoyu—like those children—still trapped in their own darkness. They haven't found their light."
"Or rather… the world hasn't given them enough light."
"So I—someone who stumbled out by sheer fortune—if I have the ability, then I should light a lamp for them. Build a bridge."
"Because—"
He pointed to the sign behind him: Yichen Will Handle It.
"—my shop sells help."
Dusk filtered through the display window, laying a warm halo over Yichen's figure.
Jing Yuan looked at him, and the last trace of weighing doubt—born from Yichen's identity and power—finally dissolved.
He thought of the universe's rumors about the Genius Society: monsters and madmen with terrifying minds that could destroy worlds.
But the person in front of him…
Jing Yuan looked at Yichen's clear, smiling eyes, felt that clean warmth like sun on grass, remembered how he'd openly offered technology for children, even planning to benefit the entire galaxy…
This man was, unmistakably, lawful good.
Compared to other members—eccentric, rule-breaking, indifferent to ordinary morality—Yichen seemed almost incompatible with the Society's reputation.
After the passing of Genius Society #22, Liert—the one praised as a beacon who shared knowledge freely and pushed civilization forward—
the Society had rarely produced someone as humane and approachable as Yichen.
And, crucially, he was exactly the type the IPC had been searching for across multiple Amber Eras: someone stable, communicative, and willing to cooperate.
Jing Yuan could practically picture the IPC executives—those who'd gone bald trying to establish stable ties with the Society—losing their minds with joy the moment they learned Yichen existed and wanted to collaborate.
The thought made Jing Yuan's gaze turn complex.
Relief—because such a figure had arrived on Luofu, and with goodwill.
And a subtle premonition—that this lawful, benevolent Genius might one day, in some unanticipated way, gently pry the universe's structure loose.
And the beginning of everything…
might simply be this tiny shop that sold help—
and the day a blind girl got lost in the rain.
"Mr. Yichen," Jing Yuan said, gathering his focus. He clasped his hands in a formal salute.
"I have taken much of your time today. I will take my leave. Regarding the introduction—I will bring you an answer as soon as possible."
"Safe travels, General," Yichen replied with a smile, returning the salute and watching Jing Yuan melt into the lantern-lit evening streets of Changle Tian.
The shop grew quiet again.
Yichen turned and looked at the plain signboard, his expression warm with quiet satisfaction.
His previous plan—to "brainwash the entire universe into an ideal nation"—had failed because of that madwoman, and the intervention of [Mutuality]…
But this—doing what he could, one step at a time, helping the people right in front of him, watching smiles return—
Yes.
This was the true joy.
…
…
Yichen — Character Story 01
My name is Yichen.
Before I turned three, the world was colorful. I could run. I could jump.
After three, the world became a window.
My brain grew too fast. My body couldn't keep up.
Each day, I had only about two hours when I could stay awake—sitting "behind" that window.
The rest of the time, darkness swallowed me. Even moving a finger was a luxury.
My parents were life science researchers. They wanted to save me. They developed physical enhancement agents.
I knew they loved me.
My friends came every day. They spoke to me through the window, read to me, told me stories about the world outside.
I knew they loved me too.
This was my home planet—what they called an "ideal nation."
No plunder. No malice. Only kindness that wanted me to live.
So in my precious two hours each day, I used my eyes to "read" every piece of research data my parents had.
In the silence, my mind pushed deductions to the brink.
I "saw" the flaw in their formula.
So—with my gaze, with faint brainwave signals—I guided them to adjust parameters, refine the composition.
One year. Then another.
On my eighteenth birthday, I finished it.
Not my parents.
Me.
In the ocean of consciousness, I built the perfect blueprint of evolution.
The news spread. The planet's highest leader came to my "window."
He didn't look shocked. He didn't look greedy.
He simply looked at me—and mobilized the resources of an entire world.
"We need you, child," he said.
When that syringe—condensing fifteen years of my time, and the goodwill of an entire civilization—slowly entered my body…
…the shackles shattered.
For the first time, I stood on the ground with my own legs.
Warm light flooded my eyes. The world's colors had never been so vivid.
And in that very moment, an indescribable will "looked" at me.
That gaze lingered.
Nous.
"You want to ask me something?" I said.
That vast mechanical head seemed to… pause.
Then, laughter—nothing like machinery—rang out in my consciousness, bright with joy.
After that, I don't remember much.
I became the ideal nation's superhuman.
I led civilization to the furthest edge it could reach.
Until one day, I stood before the leader again. He was old now, his hair white.
"Honored Leader," I asked the question buried deepest in me,
"Why… have you never demanded anything of me?"
He smiled. In the wrinkles was wisdom—and kindness.
"Child, because this is an ideal nation."
"Go. Go to the galaxy. What you have given your home has already been more than enough. We must not become your shackles."
"But remember: the stars are not made only of goodwill. Use your eyes to tell truth from falsehood. I believe you can do it."
He looked up at the sky, as if recalling something far away.
"If you ever feel lost… go find the Astral Express."
As he spoke, he placed a worn, old ticket into my hand.
"Tell them… an old friend sent you."