Time slipped through their fingers like sand, quietly passing in the quiet laboratory apartment.
For Baida, who possessed an adult consciousness, every day trapped in a small body was a mix of novelty and torment.
Novelty came from observing a genius grow up from such an intimate perspective.
Torment came from her seemingly never-ending “foolish” performance and the frustration of not being able to express herself properly.
One afternoon, sunlight streamed through the large observation window, casting diamond-shaped patches of light on the floor.
Baida (physically five years old) was diligently fulfilling her duty as a “human cushion,” gently hugging Herta from behind as she sat on the carpet adjusting parameters on a miniature holographic projector.
Herta focused intently on the complex three-dimensional structural diagrams shifting before her, her small hands flying across the virtual keyboard.
She occasionally frowned slightly at her sister’s overly tight hug, but she didn’t push her away.
Instead, she seemed accustomed to this warm weight.
“Mmm…
Herta…
smells nice…” Baida buried her face in her sister’s unique grayish-white soft hair, mumbling unclear words only she could understand, while her consciousness was going wild: “Ahhh my little sister is the cutest in the whole world!
That serious, focused little expression!
Those tiny hands typing away!
I’m dying!
But I can’t understand a single one of these scribbles on the projector…
Is [The Foolish One’s Strength] really this powerful?
Or was I always a science idiot?”
Just then, a soft click sounded as the apartment’s smart door slid open.
Their parents, wearing white researcher uniforms, with tired but unmistakably elite expressions, walked in carrying a thick stack of documents and several data storage plates.
The slightly cool, sterile air of the lab also drifted in.
Almost the moment the door opened, Herta looked up.
She quickly paused her work, and the holographic projection froze instantly.
She stood up, her small body straight, and addressed her parents in a clear, calm, even somewhat formulaically polite child’s voice: “Father, Mother.
Welcome back.” Her eyes were calm and steady, as if the complex calculations she had been immersed in were merely casual doodles.
Baida wobbled slightly from Herta’s sudden movement and also looked up dazedly at her parents by the door.
She remembered “politeness.” It was something Herta did, and what good children should do.
So she imitated her sister, struggling to open her mouth, mobilizing her unruly tongue and vocal cords, trying to produce clear sounds:
“Fath…
fah…
ee…
bah…” Her little face turned red from the effort, but all that came out were a string of unclear syllables, accompanied by a little uncontrollable drool dripping onto the bib around her neck.
She tried to make a smile-like expression, but it looked more like a funny face.
Both researcher parents’ eyes fell on their two daughters, instantly revealing incredibly complex emotions.
When they looked at Herta, it was unmistakable pride and relief that nearly overflowed, even carrying a hint of respect reserved for a “little colleague” of equal intellect.
Their genius daughter was once again exploring far beyond her age.
When their gaze shifted to Baida, that pride turned into deep pity and a trace of inexpressible helplessness.
The mother sighed softly, walked over, took out a soft handkerchief from her pocket, and gently wiped the drool from Baida’s mouth, her movements as tender as if handling a fragile treasure.
“Ah, did our Baida behave well today and keep her sister company?” The mother’s voice was gentle, but that deliberately slow tone, like speaking to a toddler, made Baida’s inner self stomp its feet.
‘Yes!
I was so good!
I’m the best human cushion!’ Baida screamed internally, but all that came out was: “Mhm!
Ee yah!”
The father also came over and ruffled Herta’s hair.
Herta tilted her head slightly, seemingly unused to such affection, but didn’t dodge.
He then looked at Baida with warm eyes: “Baida is good too, staying with her sister.”
They had long accepted this reality—perhaps the wisdom of twins really did achieve some kind of balance in the universe.
Whatever Baida had, she had given completely and unreservedly to her sister Herta.
She was slow to react.
Her learning ability was almost zero.
Her language development was severely delayed.
But at the same time, her pure, untainted dependence on and love for Herta was so real and moving, as if she were the only uncontrollable spot of warmth in Herta’s rational world.
They couldn’t blame such a child.
They could only offer more patience and care.
Just then, a loud “gurgle” suddenly broke the somewhat delicate atmosphere.
The sound came from Baida’s little belly.
Baida froze for a moment, then touched her empty tummy.
Her consciousness slowly caught up: “Oh, hungry.” The body’s needs were so direct, overriding all complex thoughts.
Before her parents or Herta could react, she followed her instincts and her most direct desire—to eat, and to bring her sister to eat with her!
Baida stepped forward, stretched out her short little arms—far stronger than those of other children her age, even unusually so, thanks to [Strength Enhancement]—wrapped them around Herta’s waist, and with a slight exertion, lifted her off the ground with ease, holding her in a standard “princess carry” as Herta looked on with a slightly stunned expression.
Herta: “!!!”
Parents: “!!!”
Herta nearly dropped the data pad in her hand.
For the first time, a clear expression of “shock” and “speechlessness” appeared in her always calm, clear eyes.
Her small hands instinctively grabbed the fabric on Baida’s shoulder, her body stiff.
She tried to convey protest with her eyes, but Baida was completely immersed in the sense of mission of “bringing sister to eat” and received none of the signals.
“Baida!
Put your sister down!
Be careful, you’ll drop her!” The mother cried out in surprise, instinctively stepping forward.
But the father gently held her back, a wry, helpless smile on his face.
He watched the effortless, almost relaxed posture of his eldest daughter, and the dazed “who am I, where am I” look on his youngest’s face.
The scene was absurd, yet somehow…
harmonious?
“Let her be,” the father said quietly, his tone indulgent.
“Baida knows her limits.
She won’t drop Herta.” He noticed Baida held her extremely steadily, her steps solid.
This supernatural strength might also be part of her “difference.”
Baida completely ignored her parents’ reactions.
Holding her sister’s soft, fragrant, light (to her) body in her arms, she trotted happily toward the dining room on her short legs, mumbling unclear words: “Food…
food…
Herta…
eat…”
From initial stiffness, Herta eventually seemed to resign herself.
She relaxed her body, letting her sister carry her.
She even adjusted her position slightly to make herself more comfortable in Baida’s arms.
But her eyes still held a hint of resignation as she glanced at her “foolish” sister holding her, muttering softly in a voice only the two of them could hear: “…Fool.”
Baida heard it!
She didn’t mind at all.
In fact, she was overjoyed inside: ‘Ahhh Herta called me a fool!
So close!
That tsundere little tone!
So cute!’
Arriving at the dining room, Baida carefully placed Herta into her child’s chair with its booster cushion, her movements as gentle as if handling a rare treasure.
After setting her down, she even patted Herta’s head like a little adult (Herta dodged in disdain).
Then she turned to her own chair.
It was a bit high for a five-year-old.
An ordinary child might need their parents to lift them up.
But Baida just grabbed the edge of the chair with her little hands, gave a slight push with her feet, and using the core strength and arm strength from [Strength Enhancement], climbed up like an agile little monkey, seated herself properly, then looked at her still-dazed parents with wide, expectant eyes, silently urging: “Where’s the food?”
The parents looked at their two daughters, already seated and waiting to be fed—one composed and self-contained like a little adult, the other with pure (and hungry) eyes like a little animal.
They exchanged another smile, filled with complex emotions that ultimately melted into warmth.
The mother headed to the kitchen to prepare food, while the father walked to the table and habitually began asking Herta about today’s research progress.
“Herta, regarding your earlier proposal on the application of ‘soliton algorithms’ in energy field stabilization, I looked up some cutting-edge materials.
Perhaps we could…”
Herta’s attention was immediately captured.
Her little face returned to its usual calm, and she began communicating with her father in clear language, occasionally dropping professional jargon that left Baida completely lost.
Baida listened to the buzzing “heavenly book” she couldn’t understand at all.
Watching the exchange between her parents and Herta, based on intellectual resonance, she felt for the first time a clear sense of…
distance.
‘What are they talking about?’ She tilted her head, trying to understand, but her brain was like a rusty gear, creaking but refusing to turn.
‘[The Foolish One’s Strength] really lives up to its name…’ She felt a bit dejected.
‘It seems…
I really can’t keep up with Herta intellectually.’
But that dejection vanished in an instant when she saw her mother bring out the fragrant children’s nutrition meal.
The aroma of food consumed all her senses.
“Ah!
Meat patty!” Her eyes lit up as she pointed at the plate, producing the clearest syllable she’d managed all day.
The mother smiled and placed the plate in front of her: “Yes, it’s a meat patty.
Baida’s so smart, recognizing the meat patty.”
For Herta, the parents placed a specially prepared meal with finer ingredients, supposedly better for replenishing mental energy.
Baida didn’t mind this “differential treatment” at all.
She picked up her small utensils and began eating happily, though still a bit clumsy, occasionally dropping a grain of rice.
But her enthusiasm for and satisfaction with the food was utterly genuine.
As she ate, she would occasionally glance at Herta beside her, who was eating slowly and gracefully.
Her heart filled up again.
‘So what if I can’t understand what they’re saying?’ Baida took a big bite of the meat patty and squinted in satisfaction, her inner monologue reviving.
‘I can carry her.
I can keep her company.
I can be her warmest cushion and most loyal follower!
That’s enough!
Wisdom has its way of communicating, and fools have their way of accompanying!’
She secretly reached out her greasy little hand under the table and gently grasped Herta’s hand resting on her lap.
Herta, listening to her father speak, felt the touch on her hand, glanced down, frowned slightly, and seemed to want to pull away.
But in the end, she didn’t move, letting that warm (and slightly greasy) little hand hold hers.
Baida’s heart bloomed with joy.
In the dining room, on one side was the quiet discussion between father and Herta about profound academic matters, rational and precise.
On the other side were the tiny sounds of Baida eating with effort, and her purely satisfied, silly smile when she looked at her sister, emotional and warm.
Two completely different styles, at this moment, blended together wonderfully, forming the unique daily life of this research family.
Watching this scene, the researcher parents felt the worry caused by Baida’s “specialness” subtly soothed in this warm routine.
Perhaps, for Herta, this complementary relationship wasn’t such a bad thing.
And Baida, in her own way, clumsily yet firmly, was fulfilling her duty as an “older sister”—using her companionship and strength to protect her little sister, even if she was a “foolish” sister who couldn’t even speak clearly.