Shennong hadn't yet answered when a soft knock broke its mental link with Ye Cheng.
"Owner, lunch is ready," came Yang Yu's voice from outside.
Startled, Ye Cheng shot upright under her quilt. She realized she'd been suffocating herself, huddled in there for who‑knows‑how‑long without air. She scrambled to the door. Seeing her flushed and sweaty, Yang Yu bowed his head. "Apologies, Owner. I disturbed you."
Ye Cheng waved both hands. "No, no—it's my fault, I was hiding under the covers. Let's go eat." She could question Shennong again later.
Yang Yu, by regulation, meant to stand aside while she ate—slaves weren't permitted to share a table with their owners—but Ye Cheng absolutely insisted he sit.
Lunch was three dishes and a soup, modest in size but rich and colorful, fragrant and delicious. She tasted each and discovered Yang Yu's cooking couldn't be faulted. In fact, hers would only have tortured their stomachs, so she ate happily and without guilt.
They were halfway through when a ding sounded from the wall and the holo‑TV flickered to life.
"Emergency report: thirty minutes ago, in District C, Section 6, a mixed‑blood riot occurred at a local shop.
The berserker was a child, now terminated.
Casualties: twelve dead, two critically injured, three lightly injured.
Prefect Plande of Yilan Star has announced a ten‑day Level‑Two Security State, and all mixed‑blood Element Locks are to be inspected—"
The screen showed the aftermath: a four‑story building sheared open, one wall gone. The street caved in, steel rods jutting from ruins, bricks still crumbling down. Blood, thinned with rain, ran in rivulets outward.
From the debris tottered a small figure—a girl, maybe eight or nine, wearing a tattered blue‑flower dress. Her eyes were void as she stared around, then slowly turned toward the street. At the sound of footsteps approaching from an alley, she looked up. The pedestrians froze, then ran in panic.
The girl paused. Her silhouette blurred, dissolved into the rain—and a scream rang from afar, followed by an explosion at the corner.
Yang Yu spoke quietly at Ye Cheng's side, who stood frozen, eyes wide. "Forgive me, Owner. For the next ten days, I cannot leave to earn money. Government officers will come for inspection, and until the security lockdown ends, I must remain inside."
Ye Cheng blinked, still staring at the images. "It's fine. But… berserk? What does that mean exactly?"
Yang Yu touched the black collar at his neck. "You know this device?"
Ye Cheng shook her head. She'd assumed the collar was just a slave's mark.
"It's called an Element Lock. Every mixed‑blood child must wear it from about five years old. If broken or removed, we lose control of the chaotic elemental energy in our bodies. Consciousness fades; within minutes, energy either drains away—killing us—or erupts outwards in lethal mania."
"Mixed‑blood…" Ye Cheng echoed.
Yang Yu hesitated, realizing this, too, was foreign to her. "You are a New Human. There were also the First Humans—those with powerful, unmutated elemental energy. Mixed‑bloods like me are the offspring of the two." He saw her confusion linger and added, "My lock, like that child's, is Pitch‑Black Midnight—a lower grade. Even if it broke, my destructive range would be limited. But still, if it ever does malfunction—please, run as far and fast as you can."
She nodded uncertainly, then frowned. "Wait—so it can break that easily? I mean, I'm just curious—"
Without change of expression, Yang Yu approached her, bent one knee, took her hand, and pressed it to his collar. It was shockingly hard—cold and dense, impossible to dent, let alone snap.
Reading her doubt, he said, "An Element Lock only softens for its wearer's own hand. My guess is, that child didn't break hers by accident."
His voice dropped. "District C is Yilan's slum. Section 6… is the red‑light area."
Ye Cheng's hand trembled. Meeting his dark eyes, she caught a weary sadness there far too old for his age. Her chest tightened. She stepped forward and lightly wrapped him in an impulsive hug, patting his back.
Before she could speak, the door chime played a bright musical cue. She jumped away, and Yang Yu went quickly to answer. Two officers in black uniforms stood outside.
"Apologies for the intrusion. Is this the residence of Mr. Ye Zhiqiu? You must be Ms. Ye Cheng." Officer One lifted a handheld scanner. "As announced, we're checking all mixed‑blood Element Locks. Please cooperate."
She understood why they'd come so fast—Yang Yu's name sat at the bottom of the slave registry.
She said nothing, only nodded stiffly. One officer scanned the collar while the other kept a weapon trained on Yang Yu.
After a few seconds the scanner lit green. Both relaxed, thanked her, and left.
Yang Yu turned back. "Any further instructions, Owner?"
She shook her head. "Go rest. We really can't step out for ten days?"
"You can, but I cannot. My apologies."
"Oh." She trudged upstairs.
Just as she shut her bedroom door, Shennong's voice sounded in her mind.
"Ye Zhiqiu is a New Human. You are not."
Her whole body flinched. "What!?"
"I automatically analyze my pilot's biological data," the mech said. "You are mixed‑blood."
The words hit like thunder. "But—" she touched her bare neck "—I… don't have a lock…"
"Exactly why I'm telling you now, since you live among New Humans. Don't worry: Firsts, Mixed, and New Humans are genetically one race. Only specialized equipment can tell you apart."
Ye Cheng's stomach twisted. Over these days she'd learned how precarious mixed‑blood status could be. "How… how can I be mixed‑blood?"
"Your constitution is exceptional. You can control your elemental energy without a lock; most of your kin would die quickly without one. As for the Firsts, they cannot survive long on Yilan Star. The lack of elemental flux here weakens them until death. Even the smugglers among the Midnight‑class Firsts must regularly return to Golden Star XI. So no one will suspect you. But note this: you cannot directly use elemental energy. You can only channel it elsewhere—to power me, for instance."
She struggled to absorb it all, and then Shennong's voice shifted tone.
"You need funds. In gratitude for reawakening me, I'll help you—on one condition."
"I'm listening."
"Unless your life is at stake, never summon me in public. Tell no one I exist—especially not other Mixed. Now, I'll give you something important to shape your path. Go to the study."
Ye Cheng left her room—the study was next to her father's bedroom, sealed by Subspace authorization.
In this age, collecting paper books was a rare hobby. Ye Zhiqiu's study held two walls of shelves packed full, and another wall with a closed display cabinet.
"Point your Subspace Ring at the cabinet and open it."
She noticed a keypad at the side, aimed her ring, and tapped. Her father's recorded voice played from the device:
"Who is trying to access my cabinet using Xiao Cheng's ring?"
Shennong said, "Just call out once."
"Call… what?"
"Try 'Dad.'"
She hesitated, then softly, awkwardly said, "Dad…"
"It's Xiao Cheng's voice," came Ye Zhiqiu's gentle recording. "Whoever you are, please don't harm her. Take whatever is here if it will keep her safe."
The cabinet opened. As it did, a glowing sigil flashed above it—a perfect circle enclosing a stylized pair of wings.
"Remember that symbol," said Shennong. "It's tied to what I'll tell you next."
She memorized it, then glanced inside. The shelves held stones, leaves, fruits—items bright and strange, some defying every bit of biology she'd ever learned.
"Your father mentioned he stored something priceless here. Choose the one that feels the most unusual to you."
Most unusual? Everything looked extraordinary. Crystalline cubes, a scale glowing trans‑blue, a preserved violet fruit—her eyes went dizzy.
"Can't decide? Use your senses. Close your eyes."
She obeyed. Cool energy rippled around her. Her feet drifted left; she knelt, reaching forward until her fingers brushed a flat object.
Opening her eyes, she found a small box holding a dull apricot‑colored stone, about the size of a ping‑pong ball.
"Open it—and wipe it clean."
She glanced around, then rubbed it on her sleeve. A coating came away, and beneath it the stone blazed, turning into a crystal glowing orange like sunset.
"This is a Source Crystal, condensed elemental power. It harms those without innate energy, but Firsts and Mixed can safely handle it. It serves as the power core for elemental machinery—and is extremely valuable. Your father disguised it as a cheap Fourth‑Tier Dawn‑grade crystal; its true level is Eighth‑Tier, Maple‑Orange Dusk. On the open market, the government would pay about thirty‑six million Union Credits."
Ye Cheng gawked so hard she nearly smacked her head on the cabinet.
"Of course," Shennong continued, "I hope you don't sell it. It holds meaning for both of you. And if you tried to turn it in without legitimate provenance, the authorities would seize it and retroactively charge Ye Zhiqiu with a crime."
She hadn't planned to sell it anyway. It was her father's. She'd find her own way to earn money.
"You can apply for an income‑increase permit," Shennong advised. "Then accompany that boy to the eastern mountain mines for a few days. Source Crystals of Chaoshi‑grade or higher exceed normal detector ranges. Ideally, you locate mid‑ to high‑tier crystals yourself. Afterwards, send him downtown to District C's underground bazaar—illegal, but rivaling a government depot—and sell them there for far more."
Ye Cheng wanted to hug the mech. She tucked the crystal reverently into her ring's second storage space.
"One last thing," Shennong said. "Ye Zhiqiu's earlier situation was precarious. If you ever meet anyone who bears that circular‑wing symbol, be extremely cautious. They may become your ally… or kill you."
Her heart lurched, but Shennong added calmly, "The man outside now—he doesn't belong to that organization."
Ye Cheng exhaled. At least she could still trust Yang Yu.
"For now, that's all. Start with the mining application. Your Life‑Care Officer can handle the paperwork."
With a way to earn money and a warning of what to fear, Ye Cheng faced the future with both excitement and new caution. She checked her father's status again—now updated to "Visitation Permitted." She wasted no time calling Aunt Zhou.
"Hello? Aunt Zhou, sorry to bother you—it's Ye Cheng. Are you busy right now?"
Aunt Zhou, watching TV at home, instantly responded, "Busy? You polite child—how are you feeling after a couple days' rest? I'm free. What's wrong?"
Looking at the little potted plant on her table, Ye Cheng's eyes softened. "I just saw my father's condition online—he can be visited now. Could you come with me? There're things I don't understand. I might need your help."
"Of course, of course." The woman turned off the screen at once. "Wait at home. I'll pick you up."
Since Yang Yu couldn't leave, Ye Cheng changed clothes and waited by the street. Aunt Zhou arrived quickly, and Ye Cheng trotted over, climbed into the autonomous taxi, and said sincerely, "Thank you, Aunt Zhou."
"Slow down, child. The hospital won't run away," the older woman chided gently. "What if you tripped?"
How could Ye Cheng not hurry? She longed to see the man whose blood her body carried.
Every corner of that house spoke of his quiet, meticulous love—affection she'd yearned for all her former life.
Seeing her fall silent, Aunt Zhou stroked her hair. "As long as both of you are alive, there's hope. So go see your father with a smile, hm?"
Ye Cheng nodded. Aunt Zhou smiled back, making small conversation as the taxi hummed toward the hospital.
After days of observation, doctors had confirmed it beyond doubt: Ye Zhiqiu was a vegetable. Standing by his bed, Ye Cheng gazed at the pale, motionless face of the father she'd inherited. Instinctively, she clasped his hand, eyes burning.
No matter what, she knew she was lucky—reborn with a healthy body, kin to call her own, a life full of duty instead of emptiness. Not like her last life, frail, alone, and waiting out her days.
She wanted to guard her secret carefully. She wanted to study, learn, understand this world—to earn enough to cure the one who'd given her life.
Clenching her fists, she looked to Aunt Zhou. "Aunt Zhou, since I can't yet access my compensation funds, could I apply for an income‑increase permit? I heard there are Source Crystals in the eastern mountains. Yang Yu used to mine—maybe we could find some, sell them, and hire a good doctor for my dad."
Aunt Zhou sighed, brushing her hair gently. "Silly girl, that region's harsh—frequent dust storms. If you send a slave there, you must accompany him to the area. And if mid‑ or high‑tier crystals were so easy to pick up, everyone would be rich. Wait until you're eighteen; then you'll have full access to the insurance payout. There'll be time for doctors."
Ye Cheng said nothing, only met her gaze stubbornly.
Unable to refuse those eyes, Aunt Zhou relented. It wasn't dust‑storm season anyway. "All right," she said finally.