Chapter 6

Mù Yú accompanied Yàn Sǔn, letting him jump to his heart's content. Little Snowball had never played like this before. Finally, it bumped back in front of Mù Yú, its face flushed, wisps of hot steam rising from its head.

Although it was described as 'bumping,' the force was so light that even the System didn't react, missing the opportunity to use the pre-set heart attack card again. Yàn Sǔn was good at braking. He hopped and skipped toward Mù Yú, slowing down just before reaching his destination.

His soft little arms wrapped around Mù Yú's legs, even his nuzzles gentle. The Production Crew said Yàn Sǔn hadn't registered figure skating as a specialty, but even the System could see he skated beautifully. From a young age, Yàn Xī had been meticulously trained by Father Yan, starting figure skating basics early and participating in many competitions.

He was a renowned young genius. Yàn Sǔn didn't receive such treatment, but Father Yan and Mother Yan never openly criticized him. While instructing Yàn Xī, they also prepared age-appropriate ice skates and protective gear for him.

As for the ice rink... the ice rink was right there; it wouldn't refuse anyone. Yàn Sǔn could skate as soon as he could walk.

There were too many things around him that he couldn't comprehend, like a noisy, chaotic cage. But maintaining balance and gliding on the ice was enough if he just practiced again and again. Due to his language impediment, Yàn Sǔn's concentration, imitation ability, and patience far surpassed those of his peers—Father Yan clearly hadn't noticed this.

Mother Yan might have noticed, but for some reason, she chose not to acknowledge it. Mù Yú picked up the steaming snow-white ball, touched his small, frost-reddened ears, took out a pre-prepared small white woolen hat, and carefully put it on Yàn Sǔn. Cradled by Mù Yú, Yàn Sǔn obediently let him adjust the hat.

The little fellow tilted his head up, his short black hair flattened by the brim of the hat. His eyelashes were long and curled, his round eyes black and clean, and he looked at Mù Yú without moving. Mù Yú was still adjusting the brim that was pressing down his hair.

He had a slight habit of needing to tidy things up. It was fine if he didn't notice, but once he did, it was hard to ignore. After half a minute, Mù Yú was finally satisfied with the shape of the hat.

He withdrew his hands and lowered his head, meeting the Little Snowball's eyes. Those eyes were actually too clean, so clean they seemed almost hollow, like a flat and empty ice rink where no emotion could be found, only reflections. Mù Yú lowered his head and looked at the Little Snowball in his arms face-to-face for a while.

Suddenly, he lifted Yàn Sǔn high up. The little guy yelped in surprise. Yàn Sǔn could not understand language and text, not that he couldn't make sounds.

He was habitually silent because Yàn Xī would get annoyed when he made 'ah-ah' sounds like a little mute and would stuff ice cubes into his mouth. Yàn Sǔn didn't swallow his voice back. He realized no ice was being shoved into his throat.

The hands holding him were warm and dry, supporting his chest and abdomen, with a gentle, steady force lifting him up. His field of vision suddenly became higher than ever before. The sensation of falling instantly disappeared, leaving only the quiet wind.

Yàn Sǔn slowly widened his eyes and looked down. There was no pain or cold; he met a faint smile. ...

The System went out to gather some intel and returned to find its Host playing 'fly high' with the little villain. The little villain's eyes were bright, his nose and ear tips red. Every time he was lifted up, he would try to flap his arms, making soft 'ah, ah' sounds.

Mù Yú gently imitated him, saying 'ah,' occasionally putting the little guy down to do some actual tasks. After finishing, he would come back and continue lifting him, while the Little Snowman, standing still with arms outstretched, waited for his 'lift-off' performance. The stove had been set up.

Green wild vegetables were being blanched in boiling water. Slices of fatty pork were being fried on a stone slab, sizzling with golden oil. Mushroom soup was bubbling hot—a mouthwatering aroma filled the air.

The System was almost drowned in its own saliva: "Host, sizzle." Mù Yú put down Yàn Sǔn and cracked two eggs onto the hot stone slab, whisked the yolks, and entrusted the little guy with watching them. "Do you want garlic?"

The System was completely taken aback, expecting to be included. It paused for two seconds before enthusiastically doing a 360-degree spin on the ground: "Yes!!!" Mù Yú smiled and picked up a small handful of prepared young root vegetables.

These were wild vegetables Yàn Sǔn had found. This kind of young root vegetable looked like grass on the surface, but its bulbous base was round and similar to garlic in appearance and taste, with an added unique fragrance of wild vegetables, making it a perfect side dish for stir-fried Aster scaber with eggs. Yàn Sǔn squatted down in a small ball, hugging his knees, staring intently at the stone slab.

His focus made the System suspect there was an invisible flower on it. After a long time, he suddenly let out a long breath, tugged Mù Yú's hem lightly, and signaled that the eggs were fried golden brown. Mù Yú bent down and taught the little guy to give a high five.

He added the fried fatty pork to the mushroom soup and used the rendered fat to sauté crushed wild garlic. Cooking both dishes simultaneously, Mù Yú remained unhurried. He even managed to free one hand to pull the little tail that was circling him out of the splattering oil.

On the other side, he added the stir-fried Aster scaber and the fried eggs. Tender green beans were dotted with golden yellow. With a sizzle, the aroma spread aggressively.

Several families not far away were cooking hot pot with their available ingredients. This method was generally acceptable and edible. However, the Production Crew only provided basic seasonings and cookware.

Things boiled with just water and salt were unlikely to be much better than merely 'edible.' Mù Yú had been busy with Yàn Sǔn for half the day. The neighboring parents, who had witnessed the entire picnic process, could still maintain some composure.

Children from neighboring families, one after another, craned their necks to peek, constantly looking over, almost crying with envy. Mù Yú put a bib on the Little Snowball. The two of them sat down warmly together, each receiving a portion of Aster scaber fried eggs and a whole pot of steaming, fragrant fatty pork stewed with mushrooms.

... It was a meal that brought joy to some families and sorrow to others. The System surveyed the five families listlessly gnawing on boiled dishes and happily returned, mindlessly praising the mushroom soup: "Host, Host."

It suddenly remembered to ask: "Yàn Sǔn didn't participate in the talent show segment; where did we get the fatty pork?" Mù Yú simply liked cooking and wasn't particularly interested in eating. He had finished his meal and was leaning against a tree, fiddling with a small piece of wood.

Hearing the System's question, Mù Yú stopped his actions and held up the nearly finished Little Flying Hero badge. It was a round little ball with two soft little wings. Mù Yú held a carving knife in his right hand, appearing to be casually shaving the wood here and there, yet the pair of little wings were clearly lifelike.

The edges were smoothed and polished. "It popped out," Mù Yú made two final strokes, bent his knees to stand up, "Award ceremony." The Little Snowball didn't understand what an "award ceremony" was, but it clearly loved the little ball with wings.

It held it firmly in its hand, warily looking around. Having spent some time together, Yàn Sǔn could now grasp Mù Yú's attitude to some extent. Seeing an expression of "it's okay" on his face, he grabbed the little piece of wood and disappeared into the woods, hiding behind a tree to take off his clothes.

The System scanned over to him. The little guy, clutching the winged wooden ball, was indeed trying to hide it in the white pocket of his Doraemon hoodie. He hugged the oversized jacket, reluctant to place it on the ground like his other clothes.

Bending down to lift the pocket flap made the action particularly difficult. While hiding it, he remained absolutely vigilant, suddenly raising his neck and scanning his surroundings, like a little chipmunk hoarding nuts for winter. This time, Mù Yú didn't interfere.

He simply adjusted the temperature in that area. The fatty pork had indeed 'popped out' from Yàn Sǔn. However, it didn't come through the Production Crew, nor was it broadcast live.

When Yàn Sǔn was playing on the ice, the Assistant Director hadn't had time to retrieve the camera. By the time the latter returned, panting and carrying the equipment, Mù Yú had already been playing with the Little Snowball for a while, and they had gone off to play the fire-making game together. Although there were no viewers, Yàn Sǔn still received points—not high, but certainly not low.

It was just enough to exchange for a small piece of fatty pork. The System, having just figured out what "scoring" entailed and reaching for information, was stunned: "Where did Yàn Sǔn get points from?" "Technical element points," Mù Yú said.

"No matter the rules, they all revolve around this logic." He didn't rush to leave, still standing there, waiting for Yàn Sǔn, who had finished redressing, to run back. The little guy ran too fast.

He was still a little out of breath when he stopped, his chest heaving. He clutched a stack of leaves tightly in his hand. Sensing Mù Yú's gaze, his small face began to turn red, and he hid it inside the wide collar of his jacket.

Mù Yú received a stack of leaves in return. They weren't ordinary leaves; they were a stack of perfectly sized and shaped leaves. Each one was flawless; not even the smallest insect hole could be found.

It would take someone a long time to sift through fallen leaves in the depths of the forest. Mù Yú took the leaves, squatted down, and said, "Thank you." Yàn Sǔn didn't understand.

He widened his eyes, his fingers gripping his sleeve turning white, watching him nervously. Mù Yú carefully put away the leaves, patted the little guy's hair, and took Yàn Sǔn's hand. The two of them walked slowly on the fallen leaves, passing through the dappled sunlight in the forest, heading towards the living quarters prepared by the Production Crew.

... On the way back, Mù Yú took the System's notebook and briefly explained the points Yàn Sǔn had received. The so-called "technical element points" were an intrinsic, unavoidable basic rule of figure skating.

Explaining it was simple enough—the scores obtained during live broadcasts were subjective. Strong performance and engaging artistry in professional skills would earn higher points. If talent was insufficient, being polite and eloquent could also leave a good impression.

If neither was possible, behaving stably and appropriately, and showing consideration for others, could also earn some favor. In short, regardless of the purpose of "scoring," the rules were similar to the various variety shows Mù Yú had participated in; obtaining high scores or votes followed similar patterns. ...

However, there were also some disciplines where another type of score, which could not be ignored or erased, existed. For example, if Yàn Xī fixated on Yàn Sǔn, uncontrollably harboring malice and wishing to destroy his figure skating day and night. When performing a jump, being able to complete three rotations meant being able to complete three rotations, which was superior to only completing two and falling.

For the same jump, landing smoothly and transitioning into the next move would earn more points than landing and falling. The ability to perform more difficult moves, and to execute the same moves better, meant being more skilled. It didn't matter about the audience; this was the simplest principle.

If Yàn Sǔn, at the age of five, could jump higher or perform moves that other five-year-olds couldn't, then he deserved to get points. It was like writing an essay where opinions varied; judging its quality often depended on the reader's taste and preference. But doing a math problem was different.

Addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division involved clear numbers, and the correct answer was readily available. As long as the calculation was correct, points would be awarded. In the sport of figure skating, the part with "standard answers" occupied a considerable proportion.

"I taught him a few moves. His foundation is excellent, and he learns quickly." Mù Yú asked, "Why didn't the Xu Family take him to learn figure skating elsewhere?"

This question jumped a bit, and the System took a few seconds to load before connecting the cause and effect. The adoptive parents' choice to protect Yàn Xī and employ Yú Mù, a third-rate scriptwriter, to cover up Yàn Xī's malice and atrocities could perhaps be understood as them not considering Yàn Sǔn their own child. However, Yàn Sǔn's biological parents had not intervened in their child's circumstances at any point during these fourteen years.

If, at any juncture, they had chosen to take Yàn Sǔn back, send him to learn figure skating elsewhere, or even just bring him back to be an ordinary child, the outcome might have been entirely different. "Because..." the System replied, "they are kind."

Mù Yú, holding Yàn Sǔn's hand, stopped in front of a small courtyard newly allocated by the Production Crew. He took out the key given by the Assistant Director and opened the courtyard gate. "They are kind?"

The System had just stolen the intel and was busy eating. It hadn't had time to organize it yet. "The comments in Yàn Xī's livestream room say so...

Host, here you go." The variety show "Starting Line" used live broadcasting. In addition to the public broadcast, each family had its own livestream room where they could watch recordings from previous episodes.

While Mù Yú was playing with Yàn Sǔn on the ice, the System dug into Yàn Xī's past data and followed the trail, finding a lot of inside information about Yàn Sǔn's two sets of parents. ... From birth, Yàn Sǔn had been caught in a man-made disaster.

"They raise children in nursery pods here," the System said. "Under normal circumstances, the nutritional ratios are scientific, and the process is very well-established." But even the most established process could have accidents.

During one operation, a staff member made a mistake and placed two newborns into the same nursery pod. By the time the error was discovered, it was already half a month later. The nutrient and oxygen supply was uniformly regulated.

One portion of nutrients could not sustain two infants. When they found out, one child in the nursery pod had already died, and the other, due to severe malnutrition, had a significantly delayed development. A tragedy that brought indelible trauma to two families.

"Yàn Sǔn was the child who survived." The System said, "His body is weaker than his peers, his brain development is impaired, and he has a language impediment because of this." Yàn Sǔn's biological parents were ordinary working-class people.

When told their child had survived while another child had died because of it, they could hardly believe it. These kind-hearted parents, filled with guilt, dared not face the other parents who were grieving the loss of their child. They even voluntarily gave up their own child.

Thus, Yàn Sǔn was taken to a home that didn't belong to him and given a name that wasn't his. Yàn Sǔn seemed to become a child of both families, yet he had no family at all. Two years later, the Xu Family had another child, named Xǔ Sīchéng, who was Yàn Sǔn's biological younger brother.

From Yú Mù's perspective, there were some parts related to the Xu parents. Searching by keywords, one could probably find about a dozen such fragments. To save money for Xǔ Sīchéng's education, Mother Xu had worked for the Yan Family for a period, responsible for taking care of Yàn Xī's daily life.

Family matters were not for outsiders to see, and no script was needed. Yú Mù, content with his leisure, perched on the stairs to watch the drama unfold. Yàn Xī tormented Yàn Sǔn in front of Mother Xu.

This young master of the Yan Family, who appeared gentle and refined on camera, was actually becoming increasingly twisted with age. He committed acts without any sense of guilt or fear, his misdeeds numerous and unrepentant. This was a completely pathological personality disorder that should have been intervened upon early.

However, under the concealment of the Yan Family and Yú Mù, all the dirty deeds were blamed on Yàn Sǔn. Yàn Sǔn sought help from Mother Xu. He was covered in bruises, gestured to his throat with his hand, and pointed towards Yàn Xī's room.

Mother Xu applied medicine to him, shedding tears non-stop, but she covered his mouth with her hand. Yàn Sǔn placed his hand on his own throat, looked at Mother Xu, and slowly tightened his grip. Mother Xu cried heartbrokenly, hugged Yàn Sǔn, and whispered to him that they owed that family, that he had killed their son.

[So kind.] Yú Mù wrote in his material book. This woman still believed that Yàn Xī tormented Yàn Sǔn because he couldn't let go of his brother's death.

This woman believed her son should atone for a lifetime for the guilt she arbitrarily felt towards others. [What cold-blooded, selfish kindness.] Yú Mù found inspiration.

He realized that with Mother Xu and Father Xu's intervention, things could be made much simpler. For example, if Yàn Sǔn wanted to expose Yàn Xī—of course, Yàn Sǔn couldn't speak, so such an exposure wouldn't have any substantial effect, but it would still be troublesome. With Mother Xu, someone would proactively silence Yàn Sǔn, telling him to endure and that things would get better later.

Mother Xu always felt that Yàn Xī was young and impulsive, and he would get better when he grew up. For instance, if Yàn Sǔn managed to escape somehow, showing signs of abuse, and applied for social protection, Father Xu could take the blame. Mother Xu would cry holding Xǔ Sīchéng.

The Xu Family would lose a significant portion of their income without their breadwinner. Xǔ Sīchéng would be ostracized at school, looking at Yàn Sǔn with hatred. After repeated incidents, Yàn Sǔn became much more obedient.

... Mù Yú didn't continue watching these things. He played 'fly high' with the Little Snowball.

The little guy seemed to be getting addicted. He didn't even bother setting down his backpack. He clenched his fists, took a few steps back, and then rushed towards Mù Yú.

Mù Yú caught him steadily. The little penguin, with its small backpack, was suddenly lifted high. It immediately spread its arms and flapped them, cooperating with the 'flying.'

The little guy happily shouted soft 'ah, ah' sounds. Because he had never been this happy before, he didn't even know how to laugh and coughed uncontrollably. The System was rummaging through its consciousness.

The last fragment Mù Yú hadn't witnessed firsthand; he had heard about it. It was said that Yàn Xī had pushed Yàn Sǔn into the ice water, desperately pulling him down together, and the situation was critical, with no one able to separate them. It was said that Mother Xu tearfully took a bamboo pole, randomly hit Yàn Sǔn's hand, and then rushed to save Yàn Xī.

A very light hit. Yàn Sǔn let go of his hand. The child didn't struggle and sank into the ice water, becoming still.