"Mommy, do you want to call Daddy's work unit?"
Lily's eyes lit up instantly. She looked at the little boy with barely concealed excitement.
"You have the number?"
Robin nodded proudly. He slipped his tiny backpack off his shoulders, tugged the zipper open, and turned it upside down without hesitation.
Everything spilled out onto the ground.
Colorful candies. Small packets of cookies. Several building blocks. A handmade little airplane...
Lily froze.
Was that… made from a bullet casing? What exactly did this child's father do?
Before she could dwell on it, a photograph fluttered out of the bag and landed at her feet.
It was a family photo.
Robin looked exactly the same in the picture as he did now—so it had clearly been taken recently.
He sat in the middle. On his right was a woman in a fitted dress, cinched at the waist. Compared to Lily's current youthful, almost girlish appearance, the woman in the photo looked far more mature. A headband adorned her hair, which was braided loosely to one side in a soft, voluminous plait.
She had an oval face, fair and luminous skin, and softly curved lips that lifted into a faint smile.
Except…
Why did that smile look so forced?
Looking more closely, Lily recognized the unmistakable traces of twenty-first century makeup on the woman's face. It wasn't something the original body's owner would ever have known how to do.
It was her.
Or rather—her future self.
And judging from the styling, she was still living in this era when the photo was taken.
Lily's gaze shifted left—and collided with a pair of eyes so sharp they seemed to slice through the paper.
Cold. Keen. Hawk-like.
The intensity was suffocating.
Her heart skipped violently, and she reflexively flipped the photo face down, pressing it against her chest.
That was terrifying.
Maybe she shouldn't look.
Just a pair of eyes—yet the aura was overwhelmingly powerful.
That didn't match her taste at all!
Had her future self been possessed by the Titanic or something, charging straight toward an iceberg?
Taking a small breath, Lily forced herself to look again.
The man on the left had thick, blade-like eyebrows angling sharply toward his temples, radiating authority. His long, narrow eyes were deep and piercing, edged with a faint chill. A high, straight nose made his already severe features even more striking and sculpted.
Even through the photograph, the oppressive presence seemed to press against her lungs.
Standing beside him would probably make even breathing difficult.
And yet—somehow—she had not only stood beside him… She had a child with him.
What kind of courage did that require?
"Is it possible," Lily muttered faintly, "that you popped out of a crack in a rock?"
Robin blinked—then his eyes sparkled with sudden excitement.
"Mommy, are you done running away now?"
"Running away?" Lily stared at him.
From the way he said it… did her future self do this often?
She knew it. That man did not look like marriage material.
Robin answered brightly, "Then this time, can you run two more blocks? Don't stop at the intersection again. Everyone thinks it's a joke…"
"…What?"
Lily was dumbstruck. So in the future, she was that… spineless?
Which meant...
Did that man abuse her? Was that why the woman in the photo looked like she was smiling through gritted teeth?!
Horrified, Lily felt her heart sink. Had she really gone blind and married a domestic abuser?
Trying not to spiral, she asked instead, "Why are you carrying a family photo around with you?"
"Mommy put it in my bag!"
"Me?" She pointed at herself in disbelief.
Robin's lips quivered. "Daddy's bad! Baby doesn't want to be separated from Mommy at all. But Daddy insists on separating us…"
Oh?
Lily blinked, staring at his near-tearful expression.
Had the marriage fallen apart later? Had custody been awarded to her?
That would explain it. Maybe he'd followed her back to her hometown, and somehow—
"Mommy, can I not go to kindergarten?" Robin sniffled, his eyes turning red. Tears welled up instantly, trembling but not yet falling. "I can't stand being away from Mommy. It's so hard…"
Lily stared at him blankly.
"So that's why Mommy gave you the family photo," she murmured weakly. "If you miss her at kindergarten, you can look at the picture."
"But Photo Mommy is bad!" he protested. "She doesn't pay attention to me. I feed her food and she won't even eat it!"
Lily stared down at the child.
Wow. Thank you. That's… very loving of me.
"I found it!" Robin suddenly declared.
"Found what?"
Lily watched as his chubby little hand rummaged around inside the lining of his backpack. He pulled out a thin metal plate.
"Daddy engraved this ID card for Baby! Mommy told him to."
"…I did?"
She accepted the small metal tag, stunned.
Had she really asked for this?
Why not just apply for an official ID? Then again, perhaps in the 1990s, minors couldn't easily get one.
But…
Her supposedly terrifying future husband had actually listened to her request?
Her gaze drifted unconsciously back to the stern face in the photograph.
Setting aside that overwhelming aura, his features were almost androgynously beautiful. Robin clearly resembled his father—except for those faintly similar brows and eyes he shared with her.
Perhaps it was the man's cold presence that overshadowed his looks.
Still, even being that handsome couldn't soften the frightening chill around him. He seemed like the type with little worldly desire, emotionally austere. Approaching him would be difficult enough—let alone flirting.
Throwing herself at him?
That would require Olympic-level technique.
So, where had her future self found the audacity to ask him to engrave an ID tag?
Even stranger—he had actually done it.
She looked down at the engraving.
Name: Robin Hale
Date of Birth: 1992
Robin was four now.
Which meant... He had come from more than ten years in the future.
Wait.
Born in 1992.
That meant that she would give birth in seven years!
Lily shuddered violently.
She kept reading.
Home address: A City.
A City?!
This child from the capital had somehow transmigrated to K Province?
To a tiny county town?
"And this number at the bottom?" she asked carefully.
"Daddy said if something happens, call this number. An uncle will answer."
Lily forced a tight smile, packed everything back into Robin's backpack, and took his hand.
"Let's try it."
A phone number from ten years in the future.
All she could do was pray the military unit's line hadn't changed.
Fortunately, luck hadn't entirely abandoned her.
***
In a suburban army camp outside A City, a communications soldier scratched his head after hanging up the phone, looking baffled.
Later, in the mess hall, he ran into soldiers from the Third Battalion.
"Hey, has Deputy Battalion Commander Hale said when he'll be back from his mission?" he asked casually. "His partner just called. Asked for the unit's address—sounds like she wants to mail him a package."
"His partner?"
The young soldier nearly choked.
"You're sure you mean our Deputy Battalion Commander Christopher Hale?"
***
At the same time, aboard a train, a man who had just assisted police in dismantling a drug trafficking ring suddenly sneezed.
The abrupt sound made his brows knit tightly, his expression sharpening.
The sneeze startled the friend sitting beside him, who jolted fully awake.
"Hale, you okay?"
Everyone in the military compound knew about the Hale family grandson's strange constitution.
Under normal circumstances, Christopher Hale was as strong as an ox. But the moment he caught something simple—like a fever or cold—it lingered stubbornly. What should have been minor illnesses often forced him into hospital stays.
They'd once thought the army would strengthen him. Instead, one minor cold had nearly landed him in the ICU.
It was baffling.
He healed from injuries faster than anyone. Just not from fevers.
His friend Dylan Moore, usually all flirtatious ease, now looked deeply worried as he scrutinized Christopher's expression.
The train crawled forward at a sluggish pace.
It would take another night and half a day to reach A City.
If Christopher came down with a fever and collapsed midway, where on earth was he supposed to find a doctor?