A Few Days Later
It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon in late spring.
The windows of the Bo City Primary School classroom were propped open, letting in a warm, sleep inducing breeze.
At the front of the room, Mrs.
Lin, a plump, middle-aged woman with a voice that sounded like a low humming refrigerator, was writing basic multiplication tables on the chalkboard.
Mathematics in this world was identical to my past life, meaning I had mastered the curriculum they were teaching roughly twenty years ago.
I sat in the middle row, my posture perfectly straight, my textbook open.
To the untrained eye, I was the picture of academic diligence.
In reality, I was holding my pencil in my left hand, subtly practicing the micro motor control of my [Ambidexterity: Lv.
16] by writing the previous class’s homework.
Directly to my left, with his cheek squished against his desk and a thin line of drool pooling on his math workbook, was Mo Fan.
The future Demon King.
The future dual element awakened prodigy.
Right now, he was blowing a small snot bubble out of his left nostril as he snored softly.
Truly terrifying, I thought to myself, expertly flipping my pencil through my fingers.
Two rows ahead of us sat the aristocratic faction of the classroom.
Mu Bai, dressed in a perfectly tailored, expensive looking miniature suit, was sitting rigidly, glaring at the chalkboard.
Even at nine years old, his hair was perfectly gelled, and his nose was perpetually turned up as if someone had hidden a piece of rotting garbage under his desk.
Next to him was his loyal lackey, Zhao Kunsan.
Zhao was already a heavy set kid, and his entire existence seemed dedicated to nodding enthusiastically at whatever Mu Bai whispered.
“Now, class,” Mrs.
Lin droned, tapping the chalkboard with her wooden pointer.
“Who can tell me the product of twelve multiplied by fourteen?”
The room went dead silent.
The collective anxiety of thirty nine-year-olds trying to do mental math manifested as a tense, suffocating aura.
Mu Bai, naturally, raised his hand with the slow, deliberate grace of a young master blessing the peasants with his knowledge.
“Yes, Mu Bai?” Mrs.
Lin smiled warmly.
The teachers always smiled at the Mu family kids.
Before Mu Bai could open his mouth to deliver the answer, I decided I was slightly too bored.
I threw the sound of Zhao Kunsan’s voice using my [Vocal Mimicry: Lv.
15].
I adjusted my larynx, perfectly replicating the nasal, slightly whiny tone of Zhao Kunsan.
“I think it’s potato, Mrs.
Lin!”
The voice echoed clearly through the quiet classroom.
Mrs.
Lin blinked, her chalk hovering in the air.
The entire class turned to look at the Mu Bai faction.
Zhao Kunsan’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
“I…
I didn’t say that!” he squeaked, his voice cracking.
Mu Bai shot a venomous glare at his lackey.
“Shut up, idiot,” he hissed under his breath.
He turned back to the teacher, clearing his throat to regain his dignified composure.
“The answer is one hundred and sixty-eight, Mrs.
Lin.”
“V-Very good, Mu Bai,” Mrs.
Lin said, though she was still eyeing Zhao Kunsan with a look of deep concern.
“And Zhao Kunsan…
please try to pay attention.
We are not discussing vegetables.”
The class erupted into a chorus of muffled giggles.
Even Mo Fan stirred, wiping the drool from his chin.
“Huh?
We’re having potatoes for lunch?” he mumbled groggily.
I kept my face entirely impassive, my left hand calmly continuing to write previous class homework in my notebook.
Ah, the simple joys of having high level skills in a primary school.
When the recess bell finally rang, the classroom exploded into a frenzy of chaotic energy.
Mo Fan instantly bolted upright, entirely awake now that academics were no longer involved.
“Monkey!” Mo Fan yelled, slamming his hands on my desk.
“The time has come.
The weather is perfect.
The omens align.
We are going to the Southern Woods today.”
I slowly closed my notebook and looked up at him.
“The omens align?
Did you learn a new word in vocabulary class while you were asleep?”
“Never mind that!” Mo Fan waved his hand dismissively.
“Old Man Wang at the corner store said he saw it.
The legendary Emperor Stag Beetle.
He said it was the size of a grown man’s fist!
If we catch it, we can charge the other kids five yuan a pop just to look at it.
We’ll be rich, Monkey!
Rich!”
I sighed internally.
On one hand, crawling through the dirt to find a bug was an absolute waste of my highly optimized time.
On the other hand, letting Mo Fan wander into the dense woods by himself was a recipe for disaster.
His plot armor hadn’t kicked in yet; he was just a squishy, unawakened kid.
“Fine,” I relented, sliding my textbook into my backpack.
“But if we don’t find it in an hour, I’m going home.
My mom made braised pork for dinner.”
“An hour is all I need!
The Emperor Beetle trembles at the name of Mo Fan!” he declared loudly, completely ignoring the weird looks the girls in the front row were giving him.
The Southern Woods were a dense patch of undeveloped land near the edge of Bo City’s residential district.
It wasn’t the true wilderness the military patrols kept the actual magical beasts far away but it was overgrown, muddy, and full of thorny bushes that loved to tear through school uniforms.
“Keep your eyes peeled, Monkey,” Mo Fan whispered dramatically as we crouched behind a rotting log.
He was holding a plastic jar with holes poked in the lid, brandishing it like a holy artifact.
“The Emperor Stag Beetle is a master of camouflage.”
“It’s a bug, Fan-ge.
Not a ninja,” I deadpanned, effortlessly squatting in a perfect, energy-conserving stance that Lao Chen had drilled into my muscles.
We had been wandering through the woods for forty-five minutes.
Mo Fan had managed to trip over three roots, get his hair tangled in a low-hanging spider web, and completely coat his knees in wet, foul smelling mud.
He was acting like a seasoned tracker, entirely oblivious to the fact that he was making enough noise to scare away every insect within a two mile radius.
I, on the other hand, was mildly entertained.
I engaged my [Tracking: Lv.
16].
The forest floor immediately transformed into a readable map of data.
I could see the fresh, disturbed soil where squirrels had dug for acorns.
I could see the bent blades of grass where a heavy stray dog had wandered through earlier that morning.
I didn’t care about the beetle, but I didn’t want Mo Fan to drag this out until sunset.
I scanned the trunks of the nearby oak trees.
It only took me two minutes to spot the specific, tiny scratch marks on the bark, accompanied by a faint trail of sweet sap.
“Hey, Fan-ge,” I called out softly, pointing toward a massive, ancient oak tree about twenty yards away.
“Try looking near the roots of that one.
The bark looks loose.”
Mo Fan gasped, his eyes shining with the fervor of a fanatic.
“Good eye, my trusty scout!
Stand back, let the master handle this.”
He aggressively tiptoed toward the tree, looking ridiculous.
I followed silently behind him, passively masking my footsteps silent.
As Mo Fan reached the base of the tree, he dropped to his knees, furiously digging through the damp pile of fallen leaves.
“I see it!” he hissed, triumphant.
“Xiaohou, it’s massive!
It’s—”
Suddenly, the bushes directly to Mo Fan’s right rustled violently.
Mo Fan froze.
Slowly, a massive, scarred, incredibly angry-looking feral goose waddled out of the underbrush.
It fixed its dark, soulless eyes on Mo Fan and extended its long neck.
Hiiiiisssssssss.
“Ahhhh!” Mo Fan shrieked, dropping his plastic jar and scrambling backward on his hands and knees.
“Beast!
Magical beast!
Xiaohou, run!
Save yourself!”
The goose, emboldened by his fear, flapped its wings and charged.
I couldn’t help it.
I burst out laughing.
The future savior of humanity, the man who would one day fight ancient dragons and dark gods, was currently being chased in circles around an oak tree by a very aggressive piece of poultry.
“Do something!” Mo Fan wailed, narrowly dodging a vicious peck to his ankle.
Still chuckling, I reached down, grabbed a handful of loose gravel, and engaged my [Ambidexterity].
Without even aiming properly, I casually flicked a single pebble with my left hand.
The pebble flew through the air and struck the goose squarely in the center of its forehead with a sharp thwack.
It wasn’t enough to hurt the animal, but the sudden, precise impact stunned it.
The goose stopped, blinked in confusion, ruffled its feathers indignantly, and then turned and waddled aggressively back into the bushes, honking its displeasure.
Mo Fan collapsed against the trunk of the oak tree, panting heavily, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“D-Did you see that, Xiaohou?
I practically fought a commander-level beast.
I looked death in the eye and didn’t blink.”
“You screamed like a little girl and dropped your jar,” I pointed out mercilessly, walking over and picking up the plastic container.
I looked inside.
The massive, black-shelled stag beetle was sitting at the bottom, clicking its mandibles.
“But hey, you got the Emperor.”
Mo Fan instantly recovered his bravado.
He snatched the jar from my hands, holding it up to the sunlight.
“Behold!
The spoils of war!
Come on, we have to show Xinxia.
She’s going to be so impressed by my bravery.”
“I’m sure she will be,” I agreed, shaking my head as we walked out of the woods.
We arrived at Uncle Mo’s house just as the late afternoon sun was beginning to cast long, golden shadows across the streets.
Mo Jiaxing was out working his driving shift, so it was just Xinxia sitting in the small, sunlit courtyard in her wheelchair.
She had a thick book resting in her lap, but she looked up and smiled warmly the moment the heavy metal gate creaked open.
“Xiaohou-gege!
Fan-gege!” she called out, her voice soft and melodious.
“Xinxia, prepare to be amazed!” Mo Fan announced, marching into the courtyard like a returning general.
He thrust the plastic jar directly into her face.
“Look!
The Emperor Stag Beetle!
I battled a ferocious feathered beast in the Southern Woods just to capture it!”
Xinxia leaned back, her nose wrinkling in polite disgust.
“It’s…
very shiny, Fan-gege.
And it has very big pincers.
Please don’t let it out of the jar.”
“It’s a marvel of nature!” Mo Fan argued, entirely missing her discomfort.
“I’m going to go find a proper place for it in the shed.
Don’t let it escape!” He shoved the jar onto the small patio table and bolted toward the back of the house, leaving a trail of muddy footprints on the concrete.
I sighed, grabbing a rag from the outdoor sink to wipe up the mud before Uncle Mo got home and yelled at him.
“Did he really fight a beast?” Xinxia asked, looking at me with a skeptical, knowing smile.
“He got chased by a goose,” I replied honestly, throwing the rag into a bucket.
Xinxia covered her mouth, a soft, bell-like giggle escaping her lips.
“Poor goose.”
I pulled up a small wooden stool and sat next to her wheelchair.
The courtyard was peaceful, filled with the scent of potted jasmine and the distant hum of the city.
“Show me that trick again,” she requested, leaning forward.
“Which one?” I asked.
“The trick with the apples.
I have some in the kitchen,” she said.
I smiled.
This had become our little routine.
Ever since I unlocked [Ambidexterity], I had been practicing fine motor skills with everyday objects.
After bringing three apples from the kitchen, I sat back down.
I tossed an apple into the air.
Before it could fall, my left hand snapped out, the paring knife moving in a blur of practiced precision.
I didn’t chop the apple; I spun it against the blade, peeling it in one single, continuous, paper-thin ribbon of red skin.
Within three seconds, a perfectly peeled apple landed back in my right hand, while the long, unbroken ribbon of skin draped elegantly over my left wrist.
Xinxia clapped her hands in genuine delight.
“It’s like magic!
You’re so fast, Xiaohou-gege.
I didn’t even see the knife move.”
“It’s just practice, Xinxia,” I said, slicing the apple into neat, even wedges and placing them on a small plate for her.
“No magic required.
Just boring, mundane repetition.”
She took a slice of the apple, nibbling on it thoughtfully.
Her dark eyes watched my hands as I started peeling the second apple, this time at a normal, relaxed pace.
“You always say that,” Xinxia murmured softly.
“You say you’re just normal, and you say Mo Fan is the brave one.
But…” She hesitated, looking down at the apple slice.
“I think you’re the brave one, Xiaohou-gege.
You never panic.
Even when Mo Fan broke the neighbor’s window last week, you just calmly talked to them and fixed it.
You always feel so…
safe.”
I paused, the paring knife halting midway through the peel.
“Someone has to keep Mo Fan from getting himself arrested before he turns fifteen,” I joked, passing her another slice of apple.
“I’m just doing damage control.”
Xinxia smiled, the momentary seriousness fading as she accepted the apple.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.
You’re the best in Bo City.”
We spent the next hour sitting in the courtyard, chatting about her books and eating apples, while Mo Fan loudly banged around in the shed trying to build a castle for his new bug.
A Few Months Later
And finally, the calendar page turned to the most important date of my second life.
It was my tenth birthday.
The evening was bitterly cold outside, but inside our small house, the air was warm and thick with the mouth watering aroma of my mother’s cooking.
She had gone all out.
The small dining table was groaning under the weight of braised pork belly, steamed fish with ginger, spicy mapo tofu, and a mountain of noodles.
“Don’t start eating yet, Xiaohou!” my mother scolded playfully, swatting my hand away with a pair of chopsticks as I reached for a piece of pork.
“Wait for your father.
He promised he would be off shift early today.”
As if on cue, the door of the house unlocked with a loud clack.
Zhang Min stepped inside, bringing a gust of cold winter air with him.
He was wearing his heavy work coat, his face flushed from the cold, and snow dusted his shoulders.
But he was smiling a massive, exhausted, incredibly proud smile.
And in his arms, he was carrying a large, heavy, rectangular box wrapped in simple brown paper.
“Dad!” I exclaimed, jumping up from my chair.
“Happy Birthday, you little genius,” Zhang Min laughed, kicking the door shut and walking over to the table.
He set the heavy box down with a solid thud that rattled the plates.
He wiped the snow from his hair and looked down at me.
“I told you I’d get it for you.
It took a lot of overtime, but it’s yours.”
My mother smiled softly, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Go on, Xiaohou.
Open it.”
I didn’t need to be told twice.
I carefully tore the brown paper away, revealing a sleek, reinforced matte-black casing.
It was a standard, civilian grade portable terminal, what this world called a laptop.
Because electricity was highly unreliable in a world dominated by elemental magic, this machine didn’t have a lithium ion battery.
Instead, it was powered by a small Lightning element crystal housed in a secure port on the back.
Every time the crystal’s energy ran out, we needed to swap it for another Lightning element crystal.
That was why it was so expensive.
One Lightning element crystal got you five to six months of continuous battery life, and when a new laptop was bought, they included an additional three Lightning-element crystals.
So I wouldn’t need to worry about power for at least two years.
If you can find Lightning mage he can charge the crystal too.
I ran my fingers over the cold metal chassis.
It was heavy, blocky, and probably had the processing power of a toaster compared to the tech in my past life.
But to me, it was Excalibur.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice thick with genuine emotion.
I looked up at my father, and then at my mother.
I walked around the table and wrapped my arms around both of them in a tight hug.
“Thank you so much.
I promise…
I promise I’m going to make you both so proud.
I’m going to take care of you.”
Zhang Min chuckled, patting my back affectionately.
“We’re already proud of you, Xiaohou.
Now, sit down and eat your noodles before they get cold.
You can play with your new toy after dinner.”
I nodded, taking my seat at the table.
As my parents began to serve the food, chatting happily about their day, I looked at the black box sitting on the edge of the table.
The childhood waiting phase was officially over.
I picked up my chopsticks, a slow, predatory smile touching the corners of my mouth.
‘System,’ I thought to myself, staring at the laptop.
‘Get ready to add Programming and Finance to the arsenal.’
To be continued…
Next Chapter Titles:
Childhood XIV(Final); Adolescence I; Adolescence II; Adolescence III(Final); Awakening; Burning Cash to Keep the Moths Warm;The First Star Path.