Chapter 368: Little Xuan's Caution
"Too many admirers?"
Book of Fuxi rolled her eyes.
"Please. I spent most of my life in feudal dynasties. Back then, powerful people having multiple wives—or lovers—wasn't unusual at all. You think I haven't seen that before? Don't get me wrong—if anything, I find modern ideals strange. Sigurd's kind of attitude is what I would consider normal."
With her sleeves tucked neatly, she spoke with an air of leisurely elegance.
Fu Hua nodded thoughtfully. It made sense. Though Book of Fuxi was the child born of Fuxi and Nuwa's legacy, she hadn't inherited the moral standards of the previous civilization. Her worldview was shaped by eras of monarchy and hierarchy—times when finding and keeping the affection of one person for life was the exception, not the norm.
"I see. So if it's not about that… then, Little Xuan, you—"
"What about me? You think I was trying to push you toward Sigurd just to get a good price for you?"
"Uh… wasn't that it?"
"…Senti, hit her."
At Fu Hua's innocent look, Book of Fuxi's eye twitched, and she immediately summoned her loyal companion.
Senti's eyes lit up.
"Hoho! Don't blame me for this one, Old Timer! Take this!"
She threw a punch with the full force of fifty thousand years of cultivation behind it.
Fu Hua smiled gently, her movements like flowing water. She caught Senti's wrist with a flick of her fingers, redirecting the force, then struck down lightly with a hand chop.
Crackle!
Thud!
"Owww!"
Senti yelped as she toppled backward, chair and all, clutching her forehead.
By the time she hit the floor, Book of Fuxi had already floated up out of harm's way. She ignored the pitiful sight of her downed companion, hovered to Fu Hua's face level, and gave her a sharp little smack on the forehead.
Slap!
"Blockhead. Get this straight—the one calling the shots here isn't you."
"Yes, yes, Lady Little Xuan, mighty and wise. Please, have a seat before you tire yourself out."
Fu Hua shrugged and extended a pale hand, offering her palm as a seat.
Once comfortably perched atop it, Book of Fuxi sighed with the gravitas of a tiny elder.
"All I've ever wanted is to make sure you have someone to keep you company. You've lived too long, blockhead—your life stretches on endlessly. Back when I was still active, you were already a bit distant, but at least you still acted human. After I slept for a thousand years and woke again, you'd forgotten how to cry, even how to smile. For a moment, I thought you'd turned into a statue. I know that loneliness must've hurt."
"Little Xuan…"
Fu Hua's eyes dimmed for a moment, surprised by the sudden heaviness in the conversation. Then she smiled, gently tapping Little Xuan on the head. Her expression was serene, her tone bright.
"Don't worry so much. I'm doing fine now. I have you, Ji Xuanyuan, Senti… and plenty of students and friends. Life is full, and being alive—it's a wonderful thing."
"That's only for now." Book of Fuxi's tone softened, yet carried a weight beyond her small form. "I've come to understand something: immortality of the body means nothing. It's the numbness of the soul that truly cuts deepest over time. The only thing that can withstand the erosion of eternity is emotion—companionship. The more of that you have, the less likely you'll drown in loneliness again, or fall into the same numb void.
"To put it simply—those who live long need companionship even more than ordinary people. And you, blockhead… especially you."
She gazed calmly into Fu Hua's emerald eyes—as if peering straight through them, down into the depths of her soul.
Fu Hua held Book of Fuxi in one hand, and with the other, she extended a slender finger to gently rub its head with her fingertip. She smiled silently—because every word had struck home, leaving her speechless.
Book of Fuxi sighed and shook her head.
"When I try to pair you with Sigurd, it's only to give you some extra security for the future. Love is something people like us can no longer offer you. Only Sigurd might still be capable of that. But everything depends on whether you truly want it. If you haven't fallen for him—if you don't wish to move forward, and he doesn't return that feeling—then I won't interfere. Blockhead, I've looked after you for over a thousand years. I take everything about you very seriously."
"…Thank you."
"No need. That's what I exist for." Book of Fuxi's tone was calm, but full of quiet affection. "In any case, unless the two of you truly love each other, I won't allow things to spiral out of control. When you finally give yourself to someone, I want it to be with joy and no regrets—not because of some ridiculous misunderstanding. Sigurd handled things well yesterday. With a beauty like you—any other man would've lost his resolve long ago. The fact that he didn't means he deserves your thanks for protecting your chastity."
"'A beauty like me'… that's quite an exaggeration, isn't it?"
Fu Hua's heart swelled with warmth, but her cheeks turned a faint pink. Book of Fuxi's praise was far too straightforward and earnest, leaving her flustered.
Book of Fuxi sighed again.
"Hopeless. At this rate, you'll never manage to continue the Fu family tree."
"Then I'll just stick with you, Little Xuan. As long as I have you, that's enough."
"Heh! At least you know yourself. Without me keeping an eye on you, you'd have self-destructed long ago."
"Yes, yes—thank you, Lady Little Xuan, for your boundless grace and protection."
Fu Hua said playfully, lifting the tiny book to eye level. Under Little Xuan's exasperated yet helpless gaze, she rubbed their cheeks together, smiling a bright, flawless smile that could light up the room.
. . .
Meanwhile, in Sigurd's room—
In the master bedroom, two girls slept soundly, bodies curled close to one another in a tangle of warmth and exhaustion, their expressions peaceful and content.
Sigurd stood beside the bed, tying the belt of his black robe. He gently adjusted the blanket, covering the two sleeping beauties—an exquisite sight of serene perfection—and smiled softly.
Kiana's body, touched by Parvati's genes, carried a faint chill, though the sweetness she brought was unforgettable. Bronya, petite and delicate, had a voice soft as milk and equally endearing. Both of them were irresistibly lovely—in short, last night's indulgence had indeed been… a little excessive.
He silently reflected, then sighed, turning to leave the room.
In the adjoining study, the teaware floated in the air, brewing a fresh pot of tea with practiced precision. A tray of small pastries arranged itself neatly on the desk. Sigurd took his seat on the sofa chair, lifted the teacup with one hand, and began typing with the other—his fingers tapping across invisible command lines in midair.
The system responded immediately: subprograms from the central network streamed into the Hive's construction schedule, and data packets were dispatched to Einstein, Otto, and the other key operatives. This would establish the framework for the new AI bureaucratic system.
Then, he opened the file containing Bronya's latest military operations plan—and as expected, she had already handled nearly every major detail the previous day. For the next two or three days, there would be no significant issues. The few new items that might arise could easily wait a bit.
All in all, everything was under control.
As expected of Bronya—she'd realized early on that she wouldn't have the energy to work today, so she'd made sure everything was prepared in advance.
Sigurd's lips curved upward. Part of him found it amusing, but another part was genuinely proud of Bronya's foresight and competence.
Suddenly, his gaze drifted toward the office door—where a small head with neatly divided strands of purple and pink hair was peeking in. A pair of beautiful mismatched eyes, one gold and one blue, gazed eagerly at him.
"Come here."
Sigurd smiled helplessly.
At once, Sin Mal's eyes lit up, her purple ahoge bouncing happily as she darted forward and threw herself into his arms. She settled on his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and looked up at him with big, bright, adoring eyes.
"Sigurd ❤~~"
"Mm. You came so early—did you have breakfast yet?"
Sigurd asked casually as he picked up a piece of pastry and held it up to her lips.
"I did! Sin Mal ate three fried eggs today! That means I'll grow taller really fast! And my breasts will grow bigger too!"
With a proud tone, she pressed a hand to her chest—which was already beginning to show a bit of shape—as if proudly reporting her progress to a parent.
Then, after taking a bite of the pastry, Sin Mal caught his hand and, like a little kitten, stuck out her tongue to lick away the crumbs from his fingertips.
Feeling the soft, slick warmth against his skin, Sigurd let out a resigned sigh.
"That's enough. You're still a kid—don't mess around with that kind of thing."
"Oh…"
Sin Mal's head drooped in disappointment. So in the end, age really did matter. Why couldn't she have been born a few years earlier? Then maybe she could've been as close to Sigurd as Bronya or that annoying tuna.
Sigurd reached out to ruffle her hair, smiling gently.
"There's no need to rush. Just grow up slowly. I'll be right here waiting for you."
"Mm! Sin Mal understands!"
"I still have some work to finish. When I'm done, I'll take you out for a walk. Want to wait for me?"
"Yes! Sin Mal can wait as long as it takes! Sin Mal loves Sigurd the most!"
Sin Mal hugged him tightly, rubbing her face against his chest with a sweet, innocent smile.
Sigurd chuckled softly, scratching under her chin until she squinted in pleasure. Then, keeping one arm around her small, warm body, he turned back to his work, quietly enjoying the gentle, childlike warmth in his lap.
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