Summer, C.E. 63
Dawn had just crept over the rooftops, its golden light spilling onto the old three-story building, warming the ivy clinging to its walls. A faint wisp of cooking smoke drifted from the direction of the kitchen; Tanaka must have been preparing breakfast. The locust tree in the backyard swayed gently in the morning breeze, its shade marking their daily training spot.
Nangong Wentian stood at the orphanage gate, looking back at the courtyard that had been his home for thirteen years.
Everything was as usual.
Yet everything was different.
He lowered his head, looking at the bundle in his hand—a backpack sewn from old cloth. Inside were three things: an encrypted hard drive, the core of the "Star Core"; a bank card containing eight million Orb Yuan; and a change of clothes.
Thirteen years of his life, condensed into these three items.
"Wentian."
The Director's voice came from behind. Nangong Wentian turned to see her standing in the doorway, with Sister Mary, Chef Tanaka, and the children behind her—Sayuri, Xiao Wu, and a few of the younger ones.
Xiao Guang stood at the front, his eyes rimmed red, but he wasn't crying.
Nangong Wentian walked over, stopping first before Xiao Guang.
The two looked at each other for several seconds.
"Xiao Guang," Nangong Wentian said, "wait for me."
Xiao Guang nodded firmly. "Okay."
"I'll come back for you."
"I know."
Nangong Wentian extended his hand, and Xiao Guang grasped it. Both hands held tight, as if to etch this trust into their very bones.
Then Nangong Wentian released his grip and turned to Sayuri.
Thirteen-year-old Sayuri had grown into a graceful young girl, her eyes now brimming with tears as she looked at him.
"Brother Wentian..." she whispered, "will you come back?"
Nangong Wentian patted her head. "Yes. We live together under this same blue sky. This is my home. I will always return to where I started."
Sayuri's tears finally overflowed, falling in quick succession. She wiped them with the back of her hand, but they only came faster.
Nangong Wentian didn't try to comfort her, simply standing quietly before her, letting her cry. Sometimes, tears were the best farewell.
When she finished, Sayuri sniffled and nodded firmly. "It's a promise, then!"
"It's a promise."
Next was Xiao Wu. The ten-year-old looked up at him, his eyes filled with admiration and reluctance.
"Brother Wentian, when you go to the capital, will you still be able to see the stars?"
Nangong Wentian paused, then smiled. "Yes. You can see the stars from anywhere."
Xiao Wu said earnestly, "Then I'll go to the capital too someday, and we can look at the stars together!"
Nangong Wentian looked at him, remembering the four-year-old child from seven years ago who had pointed at the night sky and asked, "Are there people on the stars?" Back then, he had answered, "Let's go see for ourselves someday." Now, that "someday" was gradually becoming reality.
"Okay," he said. "I'll wait for you."
Xiao Wu grinned, revealing a missing front tooth.
The other children crowded around, chattering all at once. Nangong Wentian looked at each of them in turn, committing their faces to memory.
These children—some he had tutored, some he had taught self-defense, and others he had only occasionally seen in the backyard. But each one was a life he had encountered over these thirteen years.
"Wentian." Chef Tanaka walked over, holding an oil-paper package. "For the road."
Nangong Wentian took it. It was heavy—several rice balls.
"Thank you, Uncle Tanaka."
Tanaka waved his hand, saying nothing more. This quiet man had always expressed his care through actions.
Sister Mary also approached, her eyes slightly red but her face wearing a gentle smile.
"Wentian," she said softly, "take good care of yourself out there. Put on more clothes when it's cold, eat when you're hungry, and rest when you're tired. Don't stay up too late—it's not good for your health."
Nangong Wentian nodded. "I know, Sister Mary."
Sister Mary looked at him, then suddenly reached out and gave him a light hug.
"You're a good child," she whispered in his ear. "No matter where you go, you always will be."
A warmth surged in Nangong Wentian's heart.
Finally, he walked up to the Director.
The Director stood there, the morning light shining on her graying hair, a faint smile on her face. She held a letter in her hand but had not yet offered it.
"Director," Nangong Wentian said.
The Director looked at him, silent for a moment, then asked, "Wentian, do you know what this letter is?"
Nangong Wentian shook his head.
"It's a letter of recommendation for Erica Simmons," the Director said softly. "If you ever run into trouble in the capital, you can go to her. She was once a friend of mine, a core designer at Morgenroete. With this letter, she will help you."
Nangong Wentian looked at the letter, a mix of emotions welling up inside him.
A letter that could change his fate. With it, he could openly enter Morgenroete, access the most advanced technology, and gain the most powerful backing.
But the Director did not hand it to him.
"However," the Director took the letter back and put it in her pocket, "I don't intend to give it to you."
Nangong Wentian looked at her, waiting for her explanation.
The Director smiled, her eyes filled with pride and satisfaction.
"Because you don't need it," she said. "Ever since you were five, you've never let anyone worry about you. You saved eight million on your own, created those incredible things on your own, and made your way here step by step on your own. You've never asked anyone for help, and you won't need to in the future."
She reached out and gently patted Nangong Wentian's head.
"I believe you can carve out your own path."
Nangong Wentian looked at her, his eyes growing slightly warm.
"Director..."
"Go on," the Director withdrew her hand and took a step back. "Be careful on the road."
Nangong Wentian took a deep breath, stepped back twice, and then bowed deeply.
"Thank you," he said. "Thank you for protecting me these thirteen years."
He straightened up and took one last look at the courtyard, these people, these memories.
Then he turned and walked forward.
"Wentian!"
Xiao Guang's voice called from behind. Nangong Wentian turned to see Xiao Guang running out, holding something small.
"This is for you!" Xiao Guang ran up to him and shoved the object into his hand.
It was a talisman. Woven with red string, with a small wooden bead threaded in the middle. peace
"I made it myself," Xiao Guang said, a little embarrassed. "It might not look good, but... it's for protection."
Nangong Wentian looked at the talisman, warmth welling up in his heart.
For thirteen years, Xiao Guang had always been by his side. Helping him keep watch, running errands for him, doing things others didn't understand. From age five to seventeen, from a naive child to a reliable young man, Xiao Guang had never left.
"Xiao Guang," he said, "I'll come back."
Xiao Guang nodded firmly. "I know."
"Wait for me to come get you."
"Okay."
Nangong Wentian tied the talisman to his wrist, took one last look at Xiao Guang, then turned and strode forward.
Behind him, at the orphanage gate, a group of people stood watching as his figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
Xiao Guang stood there, watching until that small silhouette disappeared at the end of the road.
He looked down at his own hands, remembering the words Wentian had just spoken—"Wait for me to come get you."
He believed it.
Because Wentian had never broken a promise.
The Director stood there, gazing at the empty road, the letter of recommendation still in her hand, never given.
She remembered that stormy night thirteen years ago, the dying infant. She remembered everything that child had done over the years. She recalled last night's conversation, the determination and clarity in his eyes.
"Erica," she thought silently, "if you could see him, you would surely like him."
The morning breeze blew, lifting her white hair.
She turned and walked back into the orphanage.
The door closed softly behind her.
In the courtyard, the children had already scattered. Only Xiao Guang remained, still staring at the road.
Sister Mary walked over and gently patted his shoulder.
"He'll come back," she said.
Xiao Guang nodded. "I know."
The sun gradually rose higher, filling the entire courtyard with light.
In the kitchen, Tanaka was preparing lunch. Under the locust tree in the backyard, the children began another day of play.
Everything was as usual.
But everything was different.
Because the one who would change everything had already set out.
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