Little did Mei Yanlan know—she was also thinking in the kitchen:
Surely he couldn’t be pregnant after just one night, right?

Probably because he had been “saving himself” for the person he truly loved, and rarely took care of such needs on his own, his reserves were abundant. That had temporarily satisfied the succubus side of her bloodline. His vitality looked excellent; by all accounts, his swimmers should be extremely energetic. From the moment their bodies entered close contact, the seahorse clan’s atavist power had already begun modifying his body. For all she knew, there might already be a fertilized embryo inside him.

Mmm… whatever.
Now that she was married, she might as well enjoy herself without restraint.

Happily humming to herself, she lifted the lid and stirred the soup inside. Upstairs, Xiao Cheng had already caught the strong scent of medicinal herbs. The instant he saw her back, he felt as though she had been completely renewed. The stiff, plain old spinster from before last night—suddenly even her silhouette looked alluring.

No, no, no—definitely an illusion. Definitely something caused by her shameless behavior! He shook his head hard, then looked at her light, buoyant movements. Comparing that to himself—his steps unsteady, every movement accompanied by deep muscle soreness from overexertion—he suddenly felt deeply wronged.

Wasn’t something off?
Why did he end up like this?
Shouldn’t it be the woman?

“What are you stewing?” he asked darkly, clearly displeased. Then he glanced at the pile of ingredients on the counter—bull penis, free‑range chicken, goji berries, soft‑shelled turtle, seahorse, deer antler, turtle…

“What is all this? When did you buy it?”

Mei Yanlan beamed, red lips dazzling, looking like some seductive demon ready to devour someone. “I bought it ages ago—had the movers bring it along when we moved our things. Husband, I’m making you a tonic soup to boost vitality and replenish essence. Let’s nourish you properly and keep working hard tonight.”

Xiao Cheng’s face turned green.

…

An oval‑shaped spacecraft glided swiftly and steadily through the sky—one of the technologies brought by the Cyborg Clan during the Great Convergence, and now fully absorbed and applied by humanity.

In truth, its speed wasn’t much faster than old‑era airplanes, but it carried more passengers, flew more smoothly, consumed less energy, and—most importantly—had a zero chance of crashing due to weather or pilot error. As a result, it had rapidly replaced airplanes as the world’s primary means of passenger air travel.

Children ran around laughing in the outer corridors, while adults chatted casually about all corners of the world. Yet for some reason, whenever noisy children approached the man seated at a corner table, they would abruptly quiet down and scurry back to their parents. Adults, too, would unconsciously detour around him.

“That man is so handsome!!”

“Then why don’t you go strike up a conversation?”

“Are you kidding? Do you think I’m made of courage?”

“And look at what he’s holding—he probably has a girlfriend.”

The women watched from afar, excited by the man’s sharp, masculine features and the raw sense of male presence he exuded—yet deterred by the clear aura of keep your distance surrounding him.

He sat there with an overwhelming sense of presence, his entire vibe starkly different from everyone else’s. The colors about him were sharply defined: jet‑black buzz cut, jet‑black brows, and eyes of a pale amber—lighter than the usual dark brown—so striking that once noticed, they were impossible to ignore.

This time, Qiu Fa was traveling privately. He wasn’t wearing the Tribunal Division uniform, hadn’t brought his director’s hat, nor his enforcement baton. Instead, he held a green ribbon in his hand—already somewhat faded.

He stared at it. Those eyes that were usually as cold and vigilant as a beast’s, always tracking every movement around him, now looked unusually unfocused.

Memories surfaced from the depths of his mind—flickering past like fragments of light: blood everywhere, scattered body parts, a green ribbon tied around a little boy’s wrist, layers of condemning stares and curses, and a cold prison cell…

The spacecraft arrived in Bohai Prefecture, docking at Pier No. 1. Bohai lay in the north; it was still cold here. Passengers had long since opened their luggage and put on thick coats.

Qiu Fa stood up in his thin black windbreaker, hands in his pockets, and disembarked. At 190 centimeters tall, he was just as conspicuous here, able to look down on nearly everyone present.

Yuan Qing.
That woman worth ten million according to the intelligence broker—what truth could she reveal about this matter?

…

Inside an old residential building, a young couple slept until the sun was high before finally waking up.

The wife lay in bed scrolling on her phone. The husband nudged her with his foot. “Aren’t you getting up to cook?”

“Don’t feel like it. Let’s order delivery,” she replied.

They were both young—probably had their son not long after coming of age. There was no trace of parental warmth on their faces.

The husband thought it over and decided delivery sounded better. He opened the app, tapped into their usual high‑end barbecue place, and rapidly added items until the total reached five or six hundred.

He didn’t seem bothered at all and was about to pay—until the app showed insufficient balance. Only then did he sit up. “We’re out of money.”

“So soon?” the woman shot him a sharp look. “Did you waste it again?”

“How is that soon? Last time he only pulled in that much. He said doing more would get him noticed.”

“Then hurry up and make him pull some more,” the woman waved her hand dismissively.

The man jumped out of bed, grabbed the laptop from the table, and left the bedroom. He went into another room, where their son was kept in a cage.

He was a monster.

They hadn’t wanted him in the first place—he’d been conceived after a reckless mistake. When they realized he was a monster, they’d planned to throw him away.

If not for the accidental discovery that this monster had other uses—such as siphoning money for them through the internet—they would never have kept him.

Ever since discovering that he possessed this ability, the couple had stopped working altogether. Whenever they ran out of money, they simply demanded more from him. Two adults nearly thirty years old, living entirely off their eleven‑year‑old son.

“Hey, hurry up and get me—”

The man’s voice abruptly cut off the moment he opened the door and saw the iron cage—with its lock picked open and completely empty.

Gone!

That brat was gone!

…

Tao Ze and the little boy were currently sitting in a noodle shop slurping noodles.

When the owner brought over their bowls, he looked at the child’s pale face and dark circles under his eyes with a mixture of shock and pity, then silently brought over an extra fried egg as well. The egg white was golden and crisp, the yolk still half runny—perfect with a little soy sauce.

The little boy glanced at the egg, looked up at the owner, then turned toward Tao Ze.

“Dad, your favorite fried egg. Ever since I got sick, you haven’t eaten one in three years. Hurry and eat it.”

Tao Ze: ???

The owner stared at Tao Ze in even greater shock.

Tao Ze himself looked exhausted, with heavy dark circles and eye bags beneath his eyes, practically radiating the hardship of a struggling single father.

Soon, another fried egg was delivered to the table. The owner’s gaze had turned deeply sympathetic.

Tao Ze: …I think I understand what just happened.

“This owner thinks I’m terminally ill,” the little boy said expressionlessly, picking up the egg and eating it.

“And then you just went along with it for another free egg, and even called me your dad.”

“Profit,” the boy replied calmly.

“Profit my ass.” Tao Ze was speechless. “Mo Weiwei, tricking such a kind person over two fried eggs is absolutely not worth it, understand?”

What kind of parents had raised this kid? Ah, right—garbage who kept their own child locked in a cage probably couldn’t teach a child anything good to begin with.

“How is it not worth it?” Mo Weiwei asked in confusion. “He’ll never know he was deceived. Are you going to tell him? As long as you don’t, he’ll spend the whole day satisfied that he did a good deed. If you tell him, his entire day will be ruined.”

Tao Ze found himself speechless.

…That actually made sense.

There was no need to destroy a good person’s kindness, so when paying the bill, he simply silently added the price of the two fried eggs as well.

Mo Weiwei stared at him, as though reading information directly from his face.

“So you really trust your boss. You think they’ll be able to discipline me.” He lowered his eyes. “That might not be true. My parents say I was born a devil.”

“Drink your yogurt.” Tao Ze chose the classic shut‑him‑up method and stuffed a bottle of yogurt into his hands straight from the plastic bag.

…

Every few months, several prefectures across the country would hold routine gatherings among atavist families.

The purpose was to strengthen relationships, discuss cooperation, exchange information about policy changes in different regions, and jointly analyze the government’s movements.

Atavists were powerful, but their circles remained small. That was why they needed solidarity—only by binding together into a single rope could they resist certain overwhelming forces.

Not just anyone could attend these gatherings.

The Long family had not received an invitation for thirty years.

And from the day they stopped being invited, the Long family’s status within atavist circles plummeted, nearly to the point of being expelled entirely.

But because of Long Jin’s atavist awakening, the Long family had finally proven to the world that true dragon blood still flowed within them.

And so, the doors opened to them once more.

Jing Pei arrived together with Long Yiming.

Because many families had children studying at Twelve Zodiac Academy, the moment Jing Pei entered, she spotted numerous classmates from school.

Long Ling was there too.

She and Tang Qiaoqiao stood together whispering about something, already close enough to be holding hands. When Tang Qiaoqiao noticed Jing Pei enter, she met her gaze coolly for a moment before immediately looking away. Meanwhile, Zhou Qian busied himself attentively serving them drinks and cake.

Jing Pei also saw Long Ankang and An Yao for the first time in quite a while.

Ever since the previous fiasco, the two of them had stopped living at the Long estate and stayed quiet for a period of time. Now that the public buzz had mostly died down—and seeing Long Ling growing close with the heirs of the Tang and Zhou families—they had begun moving around socially again, arriving at the gathering even earlier than Jing Pei’s side.

However, they seemed to have learned their lesson.

They knew better than to approach Jing Pei and cause trouble now. The fig leaf had already been ripped away by her. Pretending to be loving and harmonious after that would only make them look like clowns.

Everyone present was an ancient fox—who were they trying to fool?

So Long Ankang merely attacked Jing Pei with the eyes of a disappointed father, not daring to come over and invite ridicule, especially with Long Yiming beside her.

Unfortunately for him, Jing Pei didn’t consider him her father at all.

To her, he was simply air.

This sort of attack had absolutely no effect beyond making him angrier.

“Calm down. We still have Lingling,” An Yao comforted him softly, holding his wrist. “Look how capable our Lingling is. Even without being an atavist, she’s already entered that circle. And look at her—not a single classmate has gone over to greet her. So pitiful.”

Long Ankang’s expression immediately improved.

“Pitiful my ass. Ungrateful daughter. She deserves it.”

Long Yiming had noticed the same thing.

Thinking about the reports coming from the academy, he knew Jing Pei had never actively tried to befriend any of those people. In his view, this was because she was too proud—unwilling to lower herself or take the initiative.

To a seasoned businessman like Long Yiming, someone capable of bending when necessary and slippery as an old fox, this was irrational.

Smart though she was, she was still too young.

He took a sip of red wine and said calmly:

“No one can stand alone forever. One hand cannot clap.”

Jing Pei drank some juice and nodded.

“I think so too.”

“Brother Yiming, you’re here.” A man in a suit walked over at that moment, and Long Yiming immediately turned to socializing with him.

Long Ling accepted the cake Zhou Qian handed her, but couldn’t help glancing toward Jing Pei again.

Every young person present stood in little groups of twos and threes.

Only Jing Pei was alone.

She looked isolated and lonely—truly pitiful.

Long Ling couldn’t stop the satisfaction blooming inside her.

She had worried too much before.

Long Jin was indeed intelligent, but she had one fatal weakness—

Too much personality.

Too unwilling to bend.

Just because Feng Yilian’s group ignored her at the beginning, she refused to take the initiative to be friendly. Had she never stopped to think about why they should take the initiative toward her in the first place?

Unlike herself, Long Ling could use indirect, effective, and dignified methods to systematically win these people over.

At that moment, a disturbance came from outside.

Everyone looked toward the entrance. Then, one after another, all voices quieted. Even those who had been sitting stood up—including Tang Qiaoqiao and the other atavists.

Important figures had arrived.

The current heads of the great families were also atavists, but between them and these younger generations stretched an unbridgeable gulf of time and experience. They were mature, powerful, tempered by countless storms. During their years at Twelve Zodiac Academy, no one knew how many difficult cases they had assisted the Tribunal Division in solving, or how many atavist criminals they had killed.

Whether in aura or atavist power, they were far beyond comparison to the younger generation present here.

The real gathering was about to begin.

Long Ling watched as these people strode past with decisive authority, their overwhelming presence making her heart pound uncontrollably.

Long Ankang’s face openly revealed longing.

Feng Yilian rose from the circle surrounding him and walked toward them, naturally blending into that world.

A heroic-looking girl stood up from another corner and walked over as well, joining the same circle effortlessly.

Together, they headed toward another room.

The gathering inside that room was reserved only for certain atavists. Tang Qiaoqiao, Zhou Qian, and the others could only remain on the periphery.

As for “duds” like Long Yiming, there was even less need to mention them.

The door soon closed.

Yet everyone still hadn’t recovered from the invisible pressure those people had brought with them.

Then suddenly—

The door opened again.

A man who looked like an assistant hurried out. Under everyone’s gaze, he ran straight toward Jing Pei, who was leisurely eating watermelon.

“Young Master Long, why are you still eating? Please come inside quickly.”

“Oh.”

Jing Pei looked completely unsurprised. She calmly finished the piece of watermelon in her hand before slowly following him inside.

Adults viewed the world very differently from these children.

As one of the legendary Four Symbols—the Azure Dragon—with over ninety percent atavist purity, Jing Pei was unquestionably destined to become one of the strongest combat powers and pillars of the atavist world in the future.

Even if the Long family didn’t exist behind her, even if she stood completely alone, she still possessed more right than anyone else to participate in this gathering.

The door closed once more.

The expressions of Long Ling and her family instantly became spectacular.

At that moment, it felt as though someone had slapped them across the face dozens of times in succession.

Long Ling felt vaguely mocked.

Jing Pei’s departing figure seemed to be saying:

What was the point of all her elaborate maneuvering?

What was the point of spending all day trying to please others and squeeze her way into their circles?

The strong stand alone.

The weak gather in groups.

She did not need to chase after the stars.

The stars themselves would come running toward her.