Lin Zheng shook his head and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, his expression calm but firm. "All I'm saying is we need to be careful. We're not the only ones who saw the phenomenon."
Liu Yulan hugged Li Chen closer, her eyes softening with a trace of pain that she didn't bother to hide. "They can come or not. I won't let anyone take you from me."
Lin Zheng looked genuinely troubled, his brows drawn together as unease settled in his gaze. "You know the Temple will come for him. They always do. A child born under an omen like that? They won't ignore it."
Liu Yulan frowned slightly, her fingers tightening around the small body in her arms. "They'd only take him if he showed something out of the ordinary."
She glanced down at Li Chen again, her shoulders slowly relaxing as if convincing herself. "I don't sense anything like that."
Lin Zheng let out a tired laugh, though it carried little humor.
"Our current abilities are nothing compared to them." His gaze slid toward the baby—toward Li Chen—with a complicated mixture of fear and hope. "If he turns out to have great fate… he'll live a far better life than we ever could."
Too sentimental, Li Chen caught himself thinking, though the thought came without much conviction.
Maybe it was natural. His father had died when he was ten, long before he understood anything about life or loss. He wasn't even allowed to go to the funeral, and his mother… she had worked herself to exhaustion raising him and his brother alone.
She had been a wonderful woman.
I should've listened to her. I shouldn't have gone on that damn discovery trip…
They must think I'm dead.
Yet despite himself, something like respect flickered inside him for the man.
Liu Yulan's face darkened, her voice lowering as fear crept in. "If they take him… we won't see him again."
Li Chen stared up at her, taken aback by the raw emotion in her expression.
She looked miserable, terrified, and fiercely protective in a way that felt uncomfortably real.
Dammit… don't do that. You're not my mom. I'm not your kid.
Lin Zheng sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her slightly closer. "It's too early to fear the worst. We don't know anything yet."
They leaned into each other, a naturally affectionate pair. It was obvious they loved each other in a simple, matter-of-fact way that was almost painful to watch.
These two are real soulmate material, Li Chen thought with a helpless sigh.
Meanwhile, I died a virgin at twenty-eight. Some of my friends already have toddlers.
He stared at his tiny hands.
And now I'm an actual infant.
He couldn't laugh, cry, or complain. All he could do was lie there, absorbing the warmth of two strangers who believed he was their son.
And, unfortunately…
A very small, very traitorous part of him didn't hate that.
Liu Yulan gently shifted Li Chen in her arms and whispered softly, "Sleep if you can. You had a difficult birth."
A difficult birth? Lady, I came through an interdimensional blender.
She cradled him closer, humming under her breath. The warmth of her arms seeped through his tiny body, and—annoyingly—his infant instincts began to relax at the comfort.
Lin Zheng rose to his feet with a quiet sigh. "I'll check outside. The village is restless. People have been talking since dawn."
He gave the child—Li Chen—a long, worried look he didn't bother to hide, then let out a soft chuckle.
"I just hope people won't start spreading rumors."
"Humph, so what?"
Liu Yulan returned her attention to the baby, her tone dismissive yet gentle. "Do not listen to your father. People talk too much."
Father? Ma'am, I met the man five minutes ago. Also, please don't call him father. That's weird… for both of us.
Before he could sink any deeper into the existential crisis of suddenly having parents, the door slid open again, and another figure stepped inside.
A young girl, maybe eight or nine, peeked around the frame with wide, curious eyes.
"Mom," she whispered in a low voice, "is he awake?"
Liu Yulan smiled warmly. "Yes, Xingyao. Do you want to see your little brother?"
Brother? Excuse me? No. No, we're not doing this.
Lin Xingyao stepped fully into the room, her bare feet making soft sounds against the floor. Her hair was tied into two uneven braids, the kind that made it very clear she had done them herself.
"He's really small."
Liu Yulan chuckled softly. "All babies are small."
"Not this small," Lin Xingyao insisted, leaning closer until her shadow fell over him. She squinted slightly. "His eyes look funny."
Excuse me?
Liu Yulan raised a brow. "Xingyao."
"I mean—they're… bright." The girl's voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "Like he's thinking something. Babies aren't supposed to think."
I'll have you know I've thought more today than most adults do in a month, kid.
Liu Yulan stroked the girl's hair affectionately. "He's just alert. That's a good thing."
Lin Xingyao leaned in until her nose was almost touching his forehead. "Can he hear me?"
"He can hear everything," Liu Yulan said proudly. "Babies listen more than we think."
Lin Xingyao's eyes widened even more. "Everything?"
Liu Yulan nodded.
Oh god. Don't let her start trauma-dumping. I cannot emotionally babysit at this size.
Lin Xingyao's shoulders straightened with sudden purpose, and she whispered with intense seriousness,
"Hi. I am your big sister. I will protect you from spiders and mean goats."
…Goats?