Spring, C.E. 63
Nangong Wentian stood outside the Director's office door, hesitating for a long time.
The night outside the window was deep, moonlight streaming through the corridor windows to lay a silvery frost on the floor. All the children in the orphanage were already asleep, the entire courtyard quiet, with only the occasional chirp of insects breaking the silence.
He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
"Come in," the Director's voice came from inside.
He pushed the door open and walked in.
The Director sat behind her old desk, wearing reading glasses as she looked over a document. Seeing it was him, she took off her glasses, a flicker of surprise in her eyes.
"Wentian? It's so late, why aren't you asleep?"
Nangong Wentian walked up to her, standing there silently for a few seconds.
"Director," he said, "I want to talk to you."
The Director looked at him, her gaze softening. She put down the document in her hand and gestured to the chair opposite her.
"Sit."
Nangong Wentian sat down, placing his hands on his knees as he looked at her.
Twelve years.
From the stormy night he was carried into the orphanage until now, a full twelve years. He had grown up here, studied here, met Xiao Guang here, built the "Star Core" here, completed his first transaction here, awakened his Newtype Ability here...
This was his home in this world.
And the woman before him was the guardian of this home.
"Director," he began, his voice calm, "I know you've always thought I was a bit... special."
The Director didn't deny it, just watched him quietly, waiting for him to continue.
"I am indeed a bit special," Nangong Wentian admitted frankly. "My intelligence... is a bit higher than my peers. I understand some things I shouldn't, can do some things I shouldn't be able to. I know you've always seen it, but you've never asked."
He paused, then continued, "Thank you."
The Director was silent for a moment, then said softly, "Wentian, you don't need to thank me."
"I do," Nangong Wentian said, looking at her. "You could have asked, could have investigated, even could have sent me away. But you didn't. You chose silence, chose to protect me. I remember all of that."
The Director's eyes reddened slightly, but she quickly controlled her emotions.
"Wentian," she said, "what exactly are you trying to say?"
Nangong Wentian took a deep breath, then stated the main topic of tonight's conversation.
"I want to leave the orphanage."
The Director was stunned.
"Leave?" she frowned. "Go where?"
"Orlean," Nangong Wentian said. "The capital of Orb."
The Director fell silent. She looked at this twelve-year-old child before her, at the determination and clarity in his eyes that didn't belong to his age.
"Why?" she asked.
Nangong Wentian didn't answer directly. Instead, he took something from his pocket and placed it on the table.
It was a bank card.
"There's over eight million Orb Yuan in here," he said. "I've saved it up over the past few years."
The Director's eyes widened slightly.
Over eight million. For a child from an orphanage, this was an astronomical figure. Even she, having been Director for twenty years, had never seen so much money.
"You... how do you have so much money?" Her voice trembled slightly.
Nangong Wentian calmly replied, "I sold some technology. Alloy formulas, energy optimization solutions, things like that."
The Director stared at him, speechless for a long time.
She had always known this child was special, but she never imagined he would be special to this extent. A twelve-year-old child earning over eight million by selling technology—who would believe such a thing if it were told?
"Wentian," she took a deep breath, steadying her voice, "who exactly are you?"
Nangong Wentian looked at her and answered earnestly, "I am Nangong Wentian. The infant you rescued from that stormy night. The child who grew up in the orphanage. The one who..." He paused, "...will always be a child of this orphanage."
The Director's eyes reddened.
"Then why do you still want to leave?"
Nangong Wentian fell silent for a moment before saying, "Because there are too many things to do out there."
"What things?"
Nangong Wentian thought for a moment and asked, "Do you know about the relationship between PLANT and the Earth Federation?"
The Director nodded. As a former Morgenroete employee, she was no stranger to the world's political situation.
"Sooner or later, they will go to war," Nangong Wentian said. "When that happens, countless people will be displaced, and countless children will become orphans. I want to do something before the war arrives."
The Director looked at him, a complex emotion flickering in her eyes.
This child was not thinking of himself, but of others.
"Wentian," she said softly, "do you know how dangerous you are?"
Nangong Wentian nodded. "I know. A twelve-year-old child going to the capital alone could be cheated, robbed, or face all kinds of dangers. But..."
He raised his head and met her gaze.
"I have to go."
The Director fell silent.
She remembered that stormy night twelve years ago, the dying infant, and his unusually clear eyes. She recalled all the things this child had quietly done over the years—fixing electrical circuits, making bowls, repairing washing machines, teaching other children to study... each one a good deed.
She remembered her own experiences in her youth, the Coordinator scientists she had met at Morgenroete, and the same kind of light she saw in their eyes.
Suddenly, she understood—this child did not belong here.
He had a longer road to travel and greater things to accomplish.
"Wentian," she finally spoke, her voice slightly hoarse, "did you know I once worked at Morgenroete?"
Nangong Wentian was taken aback. This was the first time the Director had voluntarily mentioned her past.
"Twenty years ago," the Director gazed out the window as if reminiscing, "I was a materials analyst at Morgenroete. Back then, Morgenroete was just starting out. We were all a group of idealistic young people, wanting to use technology to make Orb a better place."
She paused before continuing, "At that time, I met someone. Her name was Erica Simmons, a young engineer fresh out of college. She was smart, talented, and had an almost obsessive passion for technology. We often worked overtime together, discussed design plans, and stayed up late rushing projects."
Nangong Wentian listened quietly.
"Later, I left." The Director's voice grew somewhat low. "Because of certain matters, I left Morgenroete and came to this remote fishing village, becoming an orphanage director. She stayed there, step by step becoming a core member of Morgenroete, one of the founders of Orb's Mobile Suit Technology."
She turned her head, looking at Nangong Wentian.
"Do you know why I left?"
Nangong Wentian shook his head.
The Director remained silent for a long time, then said, "Because I've seen too many geniuses destroyed by the 'Genetic Superiority Theory.'"
Her voice carried deep exhaustion.
"Back then, Coordinators had just appeared. Many people said they were humanity's future, the direction of evolution. There were also some Coordinator scientists at Morgenroete; they were indeed very smart, very outstanding. But gradually, some Naturals began to envy them, ostracize them, saying they were taking away Naturals' jobs. And some Coordinators also began to develop a sense of superiority, feeling they were a cut above Naturals."
She sighed.
"I personally witnessed a very talented Coordinator engineer, unable to bear the ostracism, leave Morgenroete and go to PLANT. Before leaving, he said to me: 'Here, I am just a Coordinator, not a person.' I've remembered that sentence for thirty years."
Nangong Wentian fell silent.
"Wentian," the Director looked at him, her eyes filled with complex emotions, "I don't know if you're a Coordinator. And I don't want to know. But I do know that if you really are, your path in this world will be harder than others'."
Nangong Wentian nodded. "I know."
The Director looked at him and suddenly smiled.
"But you still want to go?"
"Yes."
The Director was silent for a moment, then stood up, walked over to him, reached out, and gently stroked his head.
"Go then," she said. "Go out and make your way. But remember, this place will always be your home."
Nangong Wentian looked up at her. Moonlight streamed through the window, falling on her face, illuminating the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and the glimmer of tears within them.
"Director..." His voice choked slightly.
"Don't say anything more," the Director interrupted him, withdrew her hand, and turned away. "Go, get some rest early. You have to wake up early tomorrow."
Nangong Wentian stood up, looking at her slightly trembling back, and bowed deeply.
Then he turned and walked out of the office.
Behind him, the Director's voice came: "Wentian."
He stopped and looked back.
The Director did not turn around, only spoke softly with her back to him: "No matter what you are, here, you are just you."
Nangong Wentian was taken aback for a moment, then the corners of his mouth slowly lifted.
"Thank you," he said. "Director."
The door closed softly.
The Director stood there, gazing out the window at the bright moon, motionless for a long time.
In the moonlight, a glimmer of tears shone at the corners of her eyes.