A New Addition to the Family

Yuan Anqing later reviewed his phone’s call history with Bai Tian. He texted him back, dryly inquiring exactly how much of their conversation Bai Tian had heard.

Upon confirming that Bai Tian had hung up at the most critical moment of their discussion about “sleeping arrangements,” Yuan Anqing let out a sigh of relief. He subsequently asked Bai Tian what he actually wanted.

Bai Tian simply stated that he would introduce them to someone new, and all would become clear once they arrived at the office the next morning.

Ordinarily, Yuan Anqing would have pondered this more deeply, analyzing who this person might be. However, the moment Zhuo burrowed his massive head back into his embrace, Yuan Anqing cast all his professional thoughts aside.

Why bother with such taxing and bothersome administrative matters when he could simply revel in this moment of blissful ease?

“You truly are an incredibly troublesome monster,” Yuan Anqing remarked softly.

“Don’t blame me for your own desires, my Savior,” Zhuo purred, his cool tail coiling securely around Yuan Anqing’s ankle. “You can’t fault me for being too perfect, can you?”

Yuan Anqing let out a long sigh. “Then I suppose I’ll blame my own complete lack of self-control.”

His hand, however, was already resting comfortably at the base of Zhuo’s tail.

The next day, everyone in the Modeling Department noticed a drastic shift in the dynamic between Yuan Anqing and Zhuo.

Perhaps their attention had been so intently focused on the two over the past few weeks that they managed to discern even the most subtle differences. Specifically, Zhuo was no longer staring with obsessive, frantic intensity at Yuan Anqing; instead, he remained glued to his computer screen, peacefully clicking away. Conversely, Yuan Anqing paid no mind to Zhuo’s presence, concentrating solely on his own CAD software.

Had the two argued? It didn’t seem so.

Zhuo appeared languid, relaxed, and thoroughly sated, much like a large feline that had just enjoyed a massive feast. His broad back was resting comfortably against his chair, and his red eyes were half-closed, as if he were ready to doze off at any moment.

Yuan Anqing was also in remarkably good spirits. While his face remained expressionless, he was certainly radiating less of his usual “dead corpse” energy.

The surrounding environment felt reassuringly peaceful, allowing the other employees in the office to finally relax.

Zhuo was no longer hyper-fixated on Yuan Anqing because his restless, anxious heart had finally found absolute peace. The crushing uncertainty of his unrequited love had vanished. He no longer needed to constantly rely on his eyes to confirm Yuan Anqing’s presence or security.

The connection between them had transformed into something less frantic, yet infinitely more robust. Zhuo had never experienced such a feeling of stability. He was now meticulously savoring every moment of his life, understanding that such profound beauty had to be chewed slowly to truly appreciate the flavor. He would no longer swallow it down in a panic as he had in the past.

Just as Zhuo was deeply relishing his newfound emotional maturity, the office door slid open. Yang Shu entered, leading a teenager.

The teenager wore a standard local high school uniform, appearing tall, slender, and deeply nervous. Upon being led into the office, they bowed and greeted Yuan Anqing, following the direction of Yang Shu’s pointing finger.

Yuan Anqing nodded at the teenager before asking Yang Shu, “And this child is…?”

He could perceive the fluctuating, chaotic aura of desire emanating from the adolescent—sometimes intensely strong, other times fading into a faint whisper.

“This kid is rather special,” Yang Shu explained, pulling up a plastic stool for the teenager and offering them some snacks. “Their mother was also a low-grade Differentiated Being. However, her mutation suddenly began when she was six months pregnant. Afterward, she was captured by the rebel organization and forcibly fed the flesh and blood of the deceased Saviors.”

Yuan Anqing understood the grim context. He rose from his desk and approached the teenager. The kid was strikingly beautiful, yet Yuan Anqing couldn’t immediately discern their biological s*x. “Are they of the same lineage as Qin Xiao?” (Note: Qin Xiao was the elven-like subspecies from previous chapters who had a Reproductive Body).

Qin Xiao’s original and Reproductive bodies were currently undergoing rehabilitation in prison.

The teenager before him possessed a lovely, soft oval face and round eyes, yet their nose bridge was prominent and their brow bones were distinct. They resembled a very energetic, short-haired girl, or perhaps a delicate, handsome young man.

“Oh, no, this one is different,” Yang Shu clarified. “They won’t differentiate into a physical Breeding Body upon reaching adulthood. They will differentiate their biological s*x after they turn eighteen. Only then will we know if they are a boy or a girl.”

Yuan Anqing comprehended. “Then why have they been brought to our office?”

“This teenager was ‘stolen’ by our covert field agents using a clever trick. More in-depth research on their Savior-derived genetics is required, and they will be much safer living under your direct protection,” Yang Shu explained.

“Couldn’t they just be placed in the main government building?” Zhuo, who had been observing the teenager for some time, finally spoke. “It’s highly irresponsible of you to have Yuan Anqing look after a sixteen-year-old child like this. He has a day job.”

Although Zhuo still believed Yuan Anqing was the best person in the world, he didn’t think his Savior had the leisure or inclination to babysit a sensitive teenager. If Yuan ignored the kid, it might be perceived as emotional neglect.

“Mainly, the directors hope Mr. Yuan can analyze this child’s condition to see if their low-grade differentiation can be reversed. Their mutation isn’t as extreme or destructive as others’,” Yang Shu said, casting a cautious look at Zhuo.

Having Yuan Anqing take care of this kid shouldn’t be a difficult matter to negotiate; the only real obstacle in this household was Zhuo. Zhuo was notoriously possessive of Yuan Anqing. Now that the control ring was broken, they had no physical means to restrain him. If Zhuo got jealous and decided to eat the teenager, the organization would have nowhere to weep.

However, Zhuo did not object. He simply tilted his head, scrutinizing the teenager with a critical eye. “Your voice is so unpleasant. It sounds like a primary school student’s.” Most young children’s voices were indistinguishable by gender.

“Because I have to wait until—” the teenager began.

“Will it remain that squeaky until you’re eighteen?” Zhuo interrupted rudely. “Are you envious of my deep voice?”

“—until I differentiate my s*x,” the teenager finished, ignoring him.

“Then,” Zhuo continued, narrowing his eyes, “do you want to wear a little dress?”

“Zhuo,” Yuan Anqing warned.

“I didn’t mean to scare them,” Zhuo pouted, instantly backing down. “But I feel I must understand the logistics. I need to know what gender this kid will choose later, and whether they’ll take my surname or yours.”

The teenager’s eyes widened in sheer shock. “My surname is Zheng, and my name is Zheng Xiao’an.”

“This kid is already in their second year of high school,” Yang Shu quickly reminded the monster. “And besides, Zhuo, you don’t even have a legal surname.”

“Can’t we get a smaller one?” Zhuo muttered to Yuan Anqing. “This one’s too old to bond with. They already have their own name and personality.”

“This teenager isn’t being given to you as a son,” Yang Shu said, exasperated. “You merely need to keep them safe and monitor their aura. Do you think you can accept this?”

“Does this child need to attend school?” Yuan Anqing asked, always practical.

“They’ve been granted an official leave of absence. They won’t need to attend school during the time they’re staying with you,” Yang Shu explained.

“Zhuo, what do you think?” Yuan Anqing inquired about his partner’s opinion.

“Alright,” Zhuo replied, even though the “pet” was much older than he’d hoped.

Zheng Xiao’an was thus arranged to stay in the office for the day. The teenager was exceptionally reserved and reluctant to speak. Of course, the main reason for their silence was likely Zhuo’s constant, unblinking scrutiny. Zhuo’s human appearance was highly intimidating; his crimson eyes, when fixed on someone, resembled a predator eyeing a potential snack.

However, Yuan Anqing could discern that Zhuo was actually excited. As for the reason for his excitement… he had probably mistaken the teenager for a new house pet.

Indeed—not a child, but a pet to satisfy his domestic curiosity.

Just as Yuan Anqing suspected, Zhuo quickly adopted the role of an overly enthusiastic parent, and his “playing house” game began.

After work, Zheng Xiao’an followed them out of the building. Upon encountering their CEO, Tu Hongyu, in the lobby, Zhuo proudly patted Zheng Xiao’an’s back. “Child, say hello!”

Zheng Xiao’an stammered, “…Uh, hello, Uncle.”

The CEO, who was merely passing by, paused. “…Ah? Oh, oh, hello to you too.”

“Children this age are in a very rebellious phase, sigh,” Zhuo feigned a troubled, maternal sigh, as if he had been burdened by parenting for years.

Yuan Anqing, standing beside him, was entirely speechless.

He accompanied the exuberant Zhuo to a bookstore, where they bought a massive stack of college-prep study guides, along with a few plush toys. Upon returning to the apartment, Zhuo immediately tossed a calculus test paper at the teenager, instructing them to complete it and asking Yuan Anqing to supervise the session.

After all, Yuan Anqing was an academic genius with a master’s degree, while Zhuo had never even attended primary school.

Zhuo then excitedly went to the guest bedroom to make the bed, pulling out a set of bright pink sheets adorned with massive hearts.

Yuan Anqing and Zheng Xiao’an exchanged a look in the living room. Yuan Anqing noticed the teenager’s hand was trembling as they held the mechanical pen.

“I should… be able to go back to my own dorm soon, right?” Zheng Xiao’an asked, their voice shaking. They were almost seventeen, turning eighteen and becoming an adult in another year. Strictly speaking, they weren’t a child; their adult height was already set.

“You will be able to leave eventually,” Yuan Anqing’s comforting voice was completely devoid of emotion. He pointed at the test paper. “Come on. Start writing.”

“Do I really have to do calculus?” Were they not supposed to be on a protective holiday?

“The second year of high school is a crucial period. If you take such a long break, your grades will plummet,” Yuan Anqing said. He felt Zhuo was being unreasonable by forcing the kid to do homework, but from a responsible perspective, this child indeed shouldn’t just spend their time slacking off.

Zheng Xiao’an was speechless. They tremblingly put pen to paper under Yuan’s gaze.

They felt these two adults had severe mental issues, but they dared not say so out loud—especially since the cold-faced man with glasses was the Savior. Fortunately, most adults forgot their high school math, so they could probably muddle through with incorrect answers…

“Hiss.”

Yuan Anqing’s sudden sound made Zheng Xiao’an’s heart clench.

Yuan Anqing frowned slightly, pointing at a line. “You don’t encounter derivatives in your sophomore year?”

Zheng Xiao’an stammered, “…Yes, we do.”

“Then why is your derivative function greater than zero for this interval?” Yuan Anqing pointed at the messy equation. “What is this you’ve written? Do you truly understand the core theorem, or are you just guessing?”

Zheng Xiao’an: “…”

They seemed to hear a loud, imaginary shattering sound—the sound of their academic dignity falling apart.

When Zhuo finished making the guest bed, he emerged to find the living room air completely frozen. Zheng Xiao’an didn’t even dare to breathe loudly, while Yuan Anqing merely watched them with a cold, disappointing gaze.

Zhuo ran over to look at the paper, but he couldn’t understand a single symbol.

Yuan Anqing let out a long sigh. Zheng Xiao’an’s entire body went rigid.

“You haven’t learned anything at all in school,” Yuan Anqing said, utterly helpless.

Zheng Xiao’an wanted to return to the orphanage.

Zhuo, however, felt the tense atmosphere was wonderful. “I feel a very strong, warm sense of family right now!”

Zheng Xiao’an: “Huh?”

“Yuan Anqing, what do you think?” Zhuo asked happily.

“I don’t know.” Yuan Anqing had never had a concept of ‘family,’ but he didn’t believe this was the right feeling, as he had no desire to ever raise children.

Zhuo then looked at Zheng Xiao’an. “Aren’t you deeply moved by our care?” Zhuo felt their little family was incredibly warm; there was no one better in the world than Yuan Anqing and himself.

Zheng Xiao’an forced a shy, terrifyingly strained smile, pursing their lips.

They wished they were back to being a normal, neglected orphan.