She ate only a little, leaving just enough for herself and passing the rest to her grandfather, father, and older brother.
It was mealtime, and the cafeteria was lively and crowded. Almost everyone wore the same uniform, and Ruan Shu glanced around, feeling like she was on the verge of mistaking everyone for each other.
The cafeteria benches were high. Even with her toes pointed, Ruan Shu couldn’t touch the floor while sitting on one.
Her little legs dangled in the air as she earnestly scooped rice with her chopsticks.
Ruan Xiao skillfully peeled a shrimp and placed the tender white meat into her bowl.
Ruan Fengsi picked out the bones from a piece of fish before offering it to her.
Ruan He peeled a grape for her.
In no time, Ruan Shu’s small mouth was stuffed to the brim, her cheeks puffed up into round, plump shapes.
“I… can eat by myself,” she protested, raising her little hand, her eyes filled with grievance as she looked at them.
If this kept up, she wouldn’t be able to finish all the food on her plate.
Shushu didn’t want to waste any food.
Ruan Fengsi clapped his hands. “Alright, you eat by yourself.”
They were simply enjoying the fun of feeding Shushu, watching her cheeks puff up and how seriously she ate; it even made them feel more appetite themselves.
Ruan Shu sat upright, chewing her food with deliberate care.
She ate slowly and neatly, though… the cafeteria’s chopsticks were a bit too big for her, making it a struggle!
At home, she had her own custom-made pair, small and exclusively hers.
But here, in a world where people were generally much taller, the chopsticks were naturally larger as well.
Ruan Xiao got up and left briefly, returning with a spoon which he handed to her.
“Use this.”
Ruan Shu looked at the spoon and then at her chopsticks, decisively abandoning the chopsticks.
“Daddy is the best!” She beamed, her eyes curving into cheerful crescents.
The fish soup was delicious. She poured a spoonful over her rice, scooped another spoonful of rice, and ate, her eyes squinting into little crescent moons of joy.
Ruan Shu was so absorbed and focused on her meal that she was completely unaware of how many people were secretly taking photos of her.
The photos spread quickly in the legion’s group chat.
Looking at the pictures, everyone unanimously typed one word:
“So jealous.”
“Jealous +1”
“Jealous + terminal ID.”
Those with kids at home even wanted to ask the Marshal how he managed it. They didn’t expect their kids to be just like his daughter, but they’d settle for not having them wreck the house every day.
After finishing their meal, Ruan Xiao originally intended to take his daughter back to the office, but someone stopped him halfway.
“Brother Qingran!”
Indeed, it was Ruan Qingran.
Ruan Shu ran over to him, and the cold distance in the young man’s eyes melted away as he bent down slightly and naturally picked up his little cousin.
“Brother Qingran, you’re here too!”
Her voice held a hint of surprise.
“Yes, I have some business here,” he replied, wearing a hospital uniform, as he lightly tapped her on the tip of her nose with his finger.
“Uncle, you should get your Jingshen checked.”
Ruan Shu immediately tensed up. Was something wrong with her dad?
Remembering how her father had been hospitalized with a poor complexion before, Ruan Shu grew anxious at the mention of a Jingshen check.
“Don’t worry. Isn’t your dad perfectly fine right now?”
Ruan Shu held onto her father’s hand. “Go for the check-up, quickly! Daddy likes to act tough.”
Her small face was full of genuine worry.
Ruan Xiao sighed, “I’m really fine.”
After a pause, he looked at his daughter with a deep, contemplative gaze.
If it had only happened once or twice, he might have dismissed it as coincidence, but last time he’d come to realize that his stable Jingshen state might somehow be connected to Shushu.
“Qingran, when you conduct the examination, make sure no one else is present. And keep the results confidential.”
Although a bit puzzled, Ruan Qingran nodded in agreement.
They soon arrived at the medical room, and after a series of tests, Ruan Qingran looked at the report with a solemn expression.
Ruan Shu, clasping her own hands, looked at him with wide, eager eyes.
“Uncle, do you know something? What’s really going on?”
On the report, Ruan Xiao’s Jingshen pollution level read 75.01.
Newborns typically have a Jingshen pollution value in the single digits. For those with high Jingshen, every use of their power slightly increases this pollution level. Although the increase is slow, over time, it can accumulate into a significant figure.
And for those seeking strength, Jingshen training is unavoidable.
If the pollution level exceeds 90, it enters a highly dangerous state.
For strong adults with high Jingshen, pollution levels generally range from 70 to 80. Levels above 80 require inhibitors to keep under control. If even inhibitors can’t manage it, one is left to wait in agony until they eventually devolve into a mindless beast.
Before heading to battle, Ruan Xiao had undergone a Jingshen check, and his pollution level was impressively stable at 75, better than most.
But now, after a grueling battle where he undoubtedly used a lot of his Jingshen, his double-S-level power had only increased his pollution by 0.1—a result that seemed far from normal.
Ruan Shu listened to their cryptic exchange, her delicate little face filled with a confused expression.
Just then, her little head was gently pressed down by her father’s large hand.
Her father’s hand was so big that it almost completely covered her head.
“Shushu, go outside for a bit. Daddy has something to discuss with your brother.”
Ruan Shu looked at him eagerly. “Daddy, are you really okay? Don’t lie to Shushu, alright?”
She nuzzled her little face into the palm of his hand.
“I’m fine.”
Ruan Xiao briefly explained the concept of Jingshen pollution levels to her, pointing to the report’s 75.01 as evidence.
“So, this number means everything’s normal for me.”
He left out certain details, like how it was the very “normalcy” of this result that actually made it abnormal.
Ruan Shu didn’t know any better, and she didn’t insist on staying to listen. She obediently left the room as he’d asked.
Once Ruan Shu was gone, he finally spoke to Ruan Qingran. “It’s because of Shushu.”
Ruan Qingran froze, his fingers trembling slightly as he held the report.
“Uncle, do you understand what you’re saying?”
Ruan Xiao’s gaze was deep and dangerously intense.
“If it were only once or twice, I could write it off as a coincidence. But this is the third time now. No, not just three times.”
His ice-blue eyes fixed on Ruan Qingran.
“My last reading before I left was 75, but previous checks showed 77, 78. And I haven’t used any inhibitors.”
After he finished speaking, the entire medical room fell into a heavy silence.
After a long pause, Ruan Qingran’s fingers tightened around the report as he found his voice again.
“Now that you mention it, I think… I felt something similar once.”
His voice was slightly strained. “That time, I took Shushu to stay over at my place. My Jingshen had just stabilized but was still causing me a slight stinging pain. We slept together that night, and I slept very deeply. I remember feeling unusually relaxed, almost comfortable. The next morning, the stinging sensation was completely gone. I didn’t give it much thought; I assumed the inhibitor had just done its job.”
But now, after listening to his uncle, Ruan Qingran realized there was more to it.