105: Chapter 105 Returning to Huacheng

He withdrew his gaze and said nothing.

Zhou Yun was also looking at the announcement screen, but he was looking at a different one—the Teleportation Array schedule—and didn't notice which line his father was looking at.

Inside the cordon, some city lords had already begun to line up.

Some strode with their heads held high, some were surrounded by their families, and others were waving to the cameras.

Zhou Yun did not go to line up; he stood outside the cordon with his father.

"It's about time." Zhou Yun glanced at the time.

Zhou Tianhao nodded.

He took something out of his trouser pocket.

A key.

It was bronze, a bit old, and attached to the keyring was a piece of red string that had faded.

It was the spare key to the fruit shop, the one usually kept in the drawer of the cash register.

"Take this."

Zhou Yun took it and looked down at it.

"Next time you come back, just open the door yourself, no need to knock." Zhou Tianhao patted the dust off his trouser pocket. "I might not hear you."

Zhou Yun's fingers tightened.

He had known this key since he was a child; he used it whenever he forgot his own key after coming home from school.

Later, when he got his own key, this one had just stayed in the drawer, untouched.

"Okay." He put the key deep into his pocket.

The next time he returned to Blue Star, it would either be because he had been promoted to a lower-level city lord, or because he had been eliminated.

Regardless of which it was... the time was impossible to predict.

He truly needed to be able to return home on his own.

The light of the Teleportation Array began to brighten; it was almost 7:30.

Zhou Yun turned and walked two steps toward the cordon, then stopped and looked back.

Zhou Tianhao stood in place, his hands tucked into the pockets of his washed-out jacket, the white hair at his temples very visible in the morning light.

He did not wave, nor did he shout anything like "Stay safe" or "Come back soon."

He just stood there, watching his son.

Zhou Yun smiled. "Dad, I'm leaving."

"Mm."

"Don't forget to eat."

"I know. Go on, don't be late."

Zhou Yun turned back around, crossed the cordon, and walked toward the Teleportation Array.

Golden light swallowed his retreating figure.

The light flickered for a moment, then returned to stillness.

The patterns on the surface of the Teleportation Array dimmed, returning to a silent metal pedestal.

...

The people in the square gradually dispersed.

Some were discussing who had just walked in, some were holding up their phones to take pictures, and some were already walking back.

The law enforcement officers began to pack up the cordon.

Zhou Tianhao was still standing in the same spot.

He looked at the Teleportation Array that had already closed, looking for a long time.

The crowd passed by him; some recognized him as the father of the "Global Number One" and hesitated about whether to come up and talk to him, but after seeing his expression, they withdrew their steps.

His expression could not be called sad, nor could it be called reluctant; it was just very quiet.

Like a person standing on a pier after the boat has already sailed away, but still looking at the last ripples on the surface of the sea.

After about ten minutes, he finally turned and walked back.

...

Back home.

The roll-up door of the fruit shop was still in the same state as when he had pulled it down that morning.

He took out the key, opened the door, went in, and first moved a few crates of fruit out to the entrance to set them up—he still had to open the shop today.

After setting out the fruit, he stood in the shop and dazed off for a while.

Then he walked into the kitchen.

He opened the freezer and took out the frozen fish and frozen dumplings from the top layer, one bag at a time.

Underneath were chunks of meat wrapped in three layers of plastic wrap, stacked neatly.

He picked one up to look at it, didn't open it, and put it back as it was.

He walked to the cabinet in the living room, squatted down, and dug out the stack of old magazines at the very bottom.

Tucked in the middle was a notebook.

He pulled it out and flipped through it, seeing the neat but not very pretty handwriting, as well as the line of small text written next to it—"Don't be in a rush, take it slow."

He closed the notebook and put it back in its place.

He walked to the shoe cabinet, stood on tiptoe, and felt around the innermost part of the top shelf.

His fingers touched something wrapped in newspaper and a plastic bag, soft and round.

He didn't take it down to look at it.

Finally, he walked to the low cabinet and picked up the rusty tin tea canister.

The note was under the canister.

He picked it up and unfolded it.

He read it once. From beginning to end, reading every single word.

When he saw "Don't completely trust that person surnamed Chen," he chuckled softly.

Then he read it from the beginning a second time.

A third time.

He folded the note, put it into the chest pocket of his jacket, and patted it.

Then he sat on the chair in the kitchen, leaning his back against the wall.

In front of him was the clean stovetop, the seasoning bottles arranged by size, the knife mark that had been there for over a decade, and the drawing stuck to the refrigerator.

On the drawing was an adult holding a child's hand, with "Me and Dad" written underneath.

The corner that was peeling up had been neatly taped down with a new piece of tape.

Zhou Tianhao looked at that piece of tape for a long time.

Outside the window, an older sister who had gotten up early to buy groceries passed by the fruit shop entrance, peeked inside, and called out, "Old Zhou, are you opening the shop today?"

Zhou Tianhao raised his head and cleared his throat.

"Yes, yes." He stood up, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and walked out of the kitchen. "Coming, coming. Let me see what you need."

The roll-up door went up with a clatter. Sunlight poured in.

The fruit shop was open for business as usual.

...

When the light faded, Zhou Yun smelled the scent first.

The distinct, crisp feeling of Spiritual Qi, mixed with the smell of stone dust and soil from the construction site in the distance.

The air was much drier and much colder than on Blue Star.

He stood on the Teleportation Array in the main hall of the City Lord's Mansion, beneath his feet the familiar stone floor.

There was no one in the hall, and dust motes floated in the light streaming in from the windows.

He crossed the hall and walked to the front gate of the City Lord's Mansion.

The two heavy wooden doors were shut together; he couldn't see outside from the inside, but he heard sounds.

Footsteps.

A great many footsteps.

Coming from the distance, growing denser, growing closer.

Interspersed were shouts; he couldn't hear clearly what they were shouting, only feeling that it was noisy and urgent.

He reached out to push the door.

...

Pushing open the heavy doors, the hinges emitted a strained, low groan.

On the steps, there was only one slender figure.

It was Nuan Nuan.

Hearing the movement, she whipped her head around as if electrocuted.

The instant their eyes met, she froze completely.

Her eyes instantly filled with moisture, but she bit her lower lip hard, not daring to even take a breath, fearing that if her breathing was even a little heavy, the scene before her would shatter like bubbles.

The next second, the extreme silence was torn apart by the sound of figures rushing through the air.

Lei Lie, Strategist Zhu Ge, Wan'er, Tieshan, Minister Wang Fugui...

One figure after another rushed into Zhou Yun's field of vision, scrambling to be first.

Behind them were warriors wrapped in battle aura, charging forward, only to plow two deep trenches into the stone floor with their feet because of their sudden stops.

There were assassins who had activated their speed skills, leaping over roofs and scaling walls, only to fall down clumsily, forgetting even the instinct to maintain their stealth.

There were wind-element mages who had overloaded their flight from outside the West City Gate, plummeting straight toward the ground, stumbling back a dozen steps upon landing before barely managing to steady themselves.