After the lunch break, Hickson had a video conference scheduled, during which he couldn't look after Fufu. But he had already planned for this—he had registered an account for a remote early childhood education app on his Star-pad in advance, so Fufu could attend lessons there.
The Fantasy Species Alliance placed great importance on the education of younglings. The early education courses they produced featured both live teacher guidance and animated demonstrations, and were even interactive, making them highly effective at capturing a youngling's attention. Not only did this free up parents to attend to their own matters, but it also kept younglings sitting quietly, absorbing at least some knowledge along the way.
Sure enough, Fufu was immediately captivated, lying on the sofa and poking and tapping at the people on the Star-pad.
Seeing how engrossed Fufu was, Hickson nodded in satisfaction and turned to head back to his office.
One working hard, one studying diligently—this was how their family should be.
However, the good times didn't last. After barely half an hour, Hickson heard the faint sound of the early education video from the next room come to a stop, replaced by other noises.
First came the rustling sound of rummaging through things, then the sound of a small ball hitting the floor, and then the pitter-patter of tiny feet running across the floor, growing nearer and farther in turns as the youngling circled around the living room.
Hickson knew that the early education lesson's appeal to Fufu had reached its limit. The youngling had now entered the state of running around the house playing.
Hickson's head ached a little, but he could only try his best to ignore the noises from next door and pull his attention back to the work in front of him.
After all, he had bought quite a few toys for the little one before, so that should keep them entertained for a while. If anything truly happened, the AI butler would tell him. As for the noise… well, a little racket was tolerable. At least the little one could play by themselves without coming to bother him—that was already good enough.
But Hickson had a feeling this state wouldn't last long.
Sure enough, after the chaotic sounds from next door continued for over half an hour, Fufu finally grew bored again and wandered into his office.
"Big brother!"
The video conference wasn't over yet. Although Hickson saw the youngling come in, he couldn't attend to them at the moment. He merely cast his gaze over and nodded at Fufu.
This was his habitual gesture. In the past, when someone came to see him at the company office while he was busy, he would nod like this to signal them to wait a moment.
But a four-year-old youngling clearly didn't have the situational awareness of company executives. Seeing him look over, Fufu's eyes lit up with joy, shouted "Big brother—" again at the top of their lungs, then came running over with a "pitter-patter," pouncing directly onto Hickson's lap and starting to climb up him.
On the other side of the screen were his colleagues from the company. If many of them hadn't caught the first call, this one definitely drew everyone's attention.
The executives on the other end exchanged bewildered glances, all wondering whose microphone had picked up the sound of a youngling, and pondering how their stern, cold vampire CEO would react.
Yet the very next second, they watched in disbelief as wrinkles appeared on the CEO's seemingly always immaculate, crisp shirt out of nowhere. Then a pair of tiny youngling hands emerged from the edge of the screen, gripping the vampire CEO's clothes as they climbed up.
Hickson was pulled forward by the heavy little cub, but seeing that the meeting was drawing to a close, he still tried to keep his expression composed as he went over the follow-up arrangements.
By the time he had finished speaking, Fufu had already climbed all the way up, taking up nearly half the screen.
This time, everyone could see clearly, and the look on every single face was absolutely priceless, their minds racing with a barrage of comments—
It really is the cub from the CEO's side! But how does he have a cub with him? We haven't heard of him starting a family… could it be an illegitimate child??
No wait, this cub just called Hickson "big brother," so he can't be his son. Could he be… the Chairman's illegitimate child??
Damn, this is so juicy and exciting, but no one dares to ask.
Just as everyone's gossip-loving souls were burning with curiosity, they saw the little cub on screen tugging at President Nuo's shirt, adjusting his position awkwardly for a while before finally settling onto his lap, then lifting his head to look at Hickson.
Then, noticing that the other man kept staring at the screen, Fufu also turned around and curiously looked at the screen on the desk.
Finally getting a clear look at the cub's face, everyone stared with wide eyes—those eyebrows, that face shape, that hair color, and those little fangs that were the Blood Clan's signature feature, even the clothes he wore were the same style. He looked like a miniature version of Hickson.
This is definitely an illegitimate child!
But still, something felt a little off.
Seeming to sense everyone's gaze, the cub looked up at the screen and waved at everyone, flashing a big smile: "Hi!"
In that instant, everyone on the other side of the screen couldn't help but break into smiles, and some even clutched their chests directly.
This is way too cute! When he smiles, those little fangs even sparkle!!
I want to take him home and smother him with kisses!
They also finally realized what felt off—although he really did look similar, how could their vampire boss, who wore a coffin-faced expression all day long, possibly have such an adorable little brother?
Having finally wrapped things up, Hickson pulled Fufu, who was about to climb onto the desk, into his arms, ruffled the fluffy back of his head a few times, said "okay, okay," and then looked back at the screen: "That's all for today. Alright, meeting adjourned."
Everyone on the other side responded in agreement, but no one was willing to turn off their cameras. In the end, it was Hickson who cut the connection first, letting out a long sigh of relief.
He didn't mind these people seeing Fufu. After all, since he had already decided to adopt Fufu, he needed to give him a proper, legitimate identity. Fufu was his little brother, not some cub that had to be hidden away.
And besides, for a four-year-old cub, Fufu had managed to stay by himself for over an hour and held out until now before coming to find him—that was already a pleasant surprise.
Hickson let out a breath, ruffled Fufu's head, set the cub down, stood up to stretch, and led the little one back to the living room.
Along the way, Hickson noticed toys scattered across the floor of the living room, bedroom, and hallway, with the hardworking little robot picking them up one by one and placing them into a bin for disinfection.
The Star-pad was lying on the carpet, and Hickson picked it up casually to take a look.
Just as he had expected, the early education lesson on the Star-pad had only been playing for a little over half an hour before it got stuck at an interactive point. The teacher in the lesson was still persistently asking the children to choose which of the cup, bowl, and pencil was used for eating.
Hickson felt a bit guilty—after all, his family really did eat using cups…
He exited the lesson and switched to parent mode to check Fufu's previous interaction choices.
It turned out that the first section of this lesson was actually about teaching young cubs to recognize various kinds of fruits…
Hickson clicked his tongue in mild exasperation, but Fufu was quite interested and happily came over to watch.
No wonder he had managed to finish the first lesson on his own…
Looking at the answer records on the Star-pad, the early education questions were very simple, basically asking things like "Which one is an apple? Which one is a grape?"
But his little cub seemed to have not understood the questions at all—for every single question, he had chosen mango, mango, mango. As long as he saw a mango, he tapped the mango.
Even in the brief moment Hickson was looking at the Star-pad, Fufu caught sight of another mango appearing on the screen and happily reached out to touch it.
Hickson's feelings were somewhat complicated. For a moment, he didn't know whether to worry about his cub's intelligence or his extraordinary and unwavering taste.
Fortunately, after asking carefully, Hickson discovered that Fufu didn't seem to be unable to learn the lesson—he just didn't understand the meaning of the interactive questions, thinking he could simply tap whichever one he liked.
Hickson accompanied him through another lesson, explaining how to interact with the people inside.
This time, Fufu learned, and he selected the correct answer for every question.
Hickson was satisfied—his little brother was still quite smart.
In the evening, the big brother and the little cub's dinner was still mainly Nutrient Solution. Hickson added an extra piece of artificial blood, and Fufu got extra fruit and a small plate of snacks.
After dinner, a delivery robot arrived at the door, carrying a box.
As soon as the box entered the house, Fufu, like a little puppy, crowded over to look at it, urging his brother to open it for him.
Hickson already knew what was inside, so he just smiled and quickly tore open the cardboard box, pulling out the contents.
It was a small coffin only about a meter long, with a deep black wood finish and a cross pattern engraved on it. The entire coffin body was sleek and smooth, gleaming brightly under the crystal chandelier light.
Hickson lifted the coffin lid, then took out the small remote that came with it and pressed a button. The panels on all four sides of the coffin lowered, and the originally boxy coffin transformed into a small cub bed.
Yes, this was the little bed he had rushed to have custom-made for Fufu. The style and functions were largely the same as the bed he currently slept in, but it also added some features for the cub—such as rounded shield-shaped corners on the outside of the coffin and thicker artificial sponge material attached to the inside of the panels, making the cub sleep warmer and more comfortably. It could be said to embody all the tenderness and love of the vampire race.
After all, which Blood Clan cub wouldn't want to sleep in such a perfect little coffin?
Fufu was indeed very fond of it. He held the small remote and pressed buttons back and forth for a long while, then climbed onto the little bed and flipped in and out over the panels.
Hickson moved the small coffin bed into the bedroom and set it up right next to his own large bed. He laid out the bedding and pillow inside, and placed a thick carpet underneath the bed.
However, when he finished washing Fufu and coaxed the little one to go to sleep in his own small bed, he was met with refusal.
"No." Fufu climbed out of the small coffin. "Don't want to sleep in this."
Why? Hickson was baffled. Wasn't he just liking it a moment ago? Why did his expression change the moment sleep was mentioned?
But then he saw Fufu pouting as he climbed onto the big bed, looking stubborn as he said, "Want to sleep with big brother."
Saying this, he crawled to the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around Hickson's waist, looking as if he wouldn't let go unless Hickson agreed to sleep with him.
"Tsk…" Hickson let out a sigh, feeling both fondness and helplessness. He rubbed the back of Fufu's head and said gently, "You're too clingy. What youngling hugs their big brother to sleep every day?"
Fufu pouted and said, "Mommy used to hug Fufu to sleep every day!"
…Mommy?
Hickson froze for a moment—this was the first time he'd heard Fufu mention someone else.
Of course, he wasn't without curiosity about Fufu's past, but on one hand, Fufu had just been rescued, and he wasn't sure whether the youngling had any trauma in his heart, so he didn't dare ask rashly. On the other hand, Fufu was too young, lacking both observational skills and the ability to express himself—even if he tried to explain, he probably wouldn't say much of substance. It was better for Hickson to investigate on his own.
But not asking didn't mean not caring. Now that Fufu had voluntarily brought up the past, he naturally couldn't ignore it.
Mommy… that should refer to Fufu's former caretaker…
Hickson had previously speculated that Fufu might have come from a laboratory, so could this "Mommy" be a researcher in the lab? Or perhaps another test subject?
Hickson's heart grew somewhat heavy. He instinctively hugged Fufu tighter, observing the youngling's reaction as he carefully asked, "Fufu, do you remember what this 'Mommy' looked like?"
Hearing this, Fufu's eyes lit up. He spread his arms and waved them in the air, saying proudly, "My mommy is the most powerful big bat!"
Hickson: "…Huh?"
Why was this reaction so different from what he'd imagined…
What did "powerful big bat" mean… Was it referring to the Blood Clan?
Before he could ask, the youngling was already gesturing excitedly as he spoke: "We lived together in a big forest, and there was delicious food everywhere—mangoes, and strawberries too… Mmm, Mommy would do this every day—"
As he said this, he pulled open Hickson's arm, lifted up the hem of his coat, and climbed in himself, curling up entirely between Hickson's coat and inner shirt. He hugged him tightly, closed his eyes, and looked blissful: "Like this, wrapping Fufu up with her wings, letting Fufu hug her to sleep… So comfortable."
Hickson thought for a moment, then it suddenly dawned on him. He had watched science documentary shows before—they said mother bats would let their pups cling to their bodies, then wrap the pups with their wing membranes. This kind of action would give baby bats a strong sense of security.
But the problem was… vampires didn't have wings growing directly from their backs like the angel race did. Their wings only appeared when they transformed into bat form.
And from Fufu's description, it sounded like he and the "Mommy" he spoke of really were just ordinary wild bats, living together in the forest. That was simply too absurd.
Hickson frowned, then a possibility occurred to him—if Fufu was an experimental subject born in some illegal laboratory, then those people, when he left the lab, would likely have performed memory manipulation on the cub to prevent him from leaking details and secrets related to the laboratory. They would have implanted a false memory containing no useful information into the experimental subject's mind, making it impossible for him to recall anything about the lab.
The memory Fufu described of eating fruit in a big forest sounded very much like an implanted false memory.
At this thought, Hickson's heart ached slightly, yet he secretly felt relieved. For Fufu, forgetting those bad memories and keeping only these light, airy fantasies might be the better outcome.
As for leads, he would always find a way to investigate. The cub's mental health was more important.
However, the mother Fufu mentioned still bothered him greatly. Fufu's description of his mother was too emotional, too detailed. These didn't seem like things that could appear in virtual memories.
Perhaps it was residual memories from Fufu's subconscious, merged into the virtual fantasy of a forest bat, that had created the image of that mother?
So Hickson still held onto a sliver of hope and asked, "Then in your memory, did your mother ever say anything special?"
Real bats couldn't speak. If the other party had spoken, then it couldn't have come from the virtual bat mother, but rather from the hidden caretaker behind the scenes.
But Fufu, upon hearing his question, first shook his head: "Mommy doesn't talk much…" But then, as if remembering something, he raised his voice: "Oh! She did say one thing…"
Hickson raised an eyebrow: "What did she say?"
"She said Fufu should come find big brother!"
Fufu said this and laughed, then pounced into Hickson's arms: "And then Fufu really did find big brother!"
…A big brother who was as formidable and reliable as Mommy, and who absolutely adored little bats.
Hickson's heart trembled when he heard this.
No wonder, no wonder Fufu had latched onto him right away at the airport back then, and had trusted him so completely…
For a moment, he even felt a sense of fate. As if Fufu was destined to appear at the spaceport that day, destined to catch his attention, then completely latch onto him and enter his life.
In truth, Hickson knew that the bat mother in Fufu's memory couldn't possibly have said such a thing. It must have been Fufu's own inner longing for a caretaker that caused him to confuse the sequence of events, imagining that his mother had sent him to find his big brother, as if the mother and brother had known each other all along.
Realizing this, Hickson's heart softened with tenderness, and he couldn't help but hug the cub back.
At this point, he couldn't bear to let Fufu sleep alone anymore. Thinking about how the cub had only just escaped danger yesterday, it wasn't unreasonable for him to be a bit clingy.
Alright, I'll sleep with you for a few days. Hickson lay down on the big bed, propped against the headboard, keeping the cub company.
Fufu was completely content, dragging his little blanket to snuggle up beside him, pressing tightly against him. He even grabbed at Hickson's pajamas with his little paws, rubbing his small head against him affectionately, truly like a little bat clinging to its parent. It filled Hickson with tender affection.
He tucked the blanket around Fufu, then ruffled the back of the cub's head: "Alright, time to sleep." After a moment's thought, he added, "Good night."
"Good night, big brother," Fufu replied sweetly.
Then the big brother and the little cub began a long staring contest.
Five minutes later, Hickson asked, "You're not sleepy?"
Fufu nodded.
Hickson sat up and scratched his head.
He remembered that it had been the same last night—this cub Fufu just didn't seem to like sleeping, as if he had to burn off all his energy first.
Thinking back to how Fufu had wandered around the study last night, distracting him and making it hard to concentrate, Hickson decided this couldn't be left unchecked.
For the sake of future peace and quiet, he needed to find a way to get the cub to sleep and help him develop the good habit of going to bed on time.
But getting someone to sleep… The young master Nosferatu, usually confident in every field, was stumped by this problem.
After all, being able to pat a cub on the head and say "good night" was already a big improvement for him.
But since he was raising a cub, getting him to sleep was probably unavoidable.
Hickson quietly pulled out his phone and typed in "how to quickly get a young cub to sleep."
The AI butler quickly offered several options. First was singing a lullaby… That definitely wouldn't work—he couldn't sing, absolutely not.
Second, telling a story… That was doable. Hickson grabbed the picture book for young cubs he'd bought during the day and let Fufu pick one.
Actually, Fufu had already flipped through all these picture books in the afternoon. But since he couldn't read, he'd only looked at the pictures. Now that he heard his big brother could read to him, he immediately picked out his favorite one.
Hickson took a look—well, well, it happened to be a story about how a little bat lived in the great forest, a niche picture book written specifically for vampire cubs.
Fine, then. He leaned against the headboard, pulled Fufu close beside him, opened the picture book, and read the text page by page.
Hickson's voice was cold and flat, with little variation as he read—even the household AI butler could probably read with more emotion than him.
But Fufu was still delighted, listening while waving his arms and legs, crawling all over the bed, and occasionally interrupting to ask about details that weren't in the book.
When he got to the part where the little bat became friends with all the little animals in the forest, the cub jumped straight up on the bed.
As he jumped, he tripped over his big brother's leg and flopped onto the bed, but he still giggled foolishly, "Hehe."
Hickson stared at the cub wriggling on the bed, silent.
This wasn't right—how was the bedtime story making him more energetic instead?
Hickson began to doubt himself. Maybe the cub wasn't actually sleepy because he hadn't gotten enough activity today?
If Fufu wasn't sleepy, then all his efforts to get him to sleep were wasted. True, even though it was already very late, vampires as a race naturally needed little sleep. Maybe Fufu really didn't want to sleep. In that case, rather than forcing him to sleep, it might be better to…
Better to use the opportunity to teach the cub something useful.
So Hickson picked up the Star-pad and pulled up the group's latest financial report.
"Fufu, come here. Big brother will teach you. This is our family group's stock price trend this year. This is the vertical axis, this is the horizontal axis…"
One minute later, the cub was fast asleep.
Hickson: This child is beyond teaching… Well, at least he's asleep.
Looking at Fufu's peaceful sleeping face, Hickson let out a soft chuckle and felt a bit tired himself.
He quietly tucked in the blanket, held the cub in his arms, and slowly drifted off to sleep as well.