Chapter 46: Happily

“When I was young, I liked this swing very much.”

Perhaps it was the warmth of the moment that pulled Moore into his memories. Thoughts he had never shared with anyone surfaced suddenly.

Ji Feng pricked up his ears, listening intently as the swing swayed gently. He watched Moore seriously, with little Kerry sitting innocently between them.

“I liked coming here whether I was happy or unhappy. Even when I was angry with my Dad, I would hide here foolishly.”

“Dad was always patient. He would push me on the swing while coaxing me, or sometimes he would ask my elder brother to cheer me up.”

At this point, Moore stopped abruptly, falling silent. Childhood memories were undeniably precious, but now neither his Dad nor his elder brother was there.

That realization shattered the warmth of his recollections, and his heart twisted painfully.

Ji Feng quickly noticed the sorrow in Moore’s eyes. He lifted little Kerry onto his lap, then stretched out his long arm to pull Moore gently against his shoulder, his voice soft as he stroked Moore’s hair. “It’s alright.”

This time, Moore did not pull away or glare at him. Instead, a sudden wave of grievance rose within him, as though Ji Feng’s gentle comfort had unearthed all the pain he had buried for years.

As for Rolt, Ji Feng could not draw any firm conclusions. After all, the Yufeng Bead was not omnipotent. Even within the vast universe, its power was insignificant. He dared not give Moore too much hope.

Ji Feng was curious about Moore’s dad—the legendary marshal’s former partner. His knowledge was limited to stories circulating on the internet; beyond that, the details were unclear.

What Ji Feng could be certain of, however, was that Moore’s dad held an irreplaceable place in his son’s heart. Even Moore’s tense relationship with Marshal Wip seemed to be tied to him.

Ji Feng asked softly, “Can you tell me about your dad?”

Moore turned his head slightly to look at him. He had never spoken of this to anyone before and usually avoided mentioning it. Yet perhaps because Ji Feng’s voice was so gentle, or because his eyes carried such safety, Moore suddenly felt the urge to confide.

“When I was six years old, during the once-in-a-thousand-years meteor shower in the Wendi Star Region, my elder brother, my dad, and I went to Wendi Star together to watch it.”

“I was so excited that day. Everyone was happy and full of anticipation…”

Many families had gone, including the Nelsons and the Moses clan. But what followed…

Moore’s brow furrowed, his eyes turning cold. No matter how much time had passed, the memory still filled him with anger and grief he could not let go.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to say it now. Tell me later if you want,” Ji Feng said quickly, his expression softening. “Relax, alright?”

Moore pressed his lips together, staring at Ji Feng. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, he lowered his head and unconsciously fiddled with Kerry’s small hand, calming himself little by little.

Little Kerry lay in Ji Feng’s arms, staring curiously at Uncle Moore. He could not understand what the adults were saying, but he could see that Uncle Moore was unhappy. The little boy asked carefully, “What’s wrong with Uncle Moore?”

The child’s eyes were clear, innocent, and naïve—how could he possibly understand the troubles of adults? Moore shook his head slightly in response.

Kerry looked up at Ji Feng again. “Uncle, what’s wrong with Uncle Moore?”

Ji Feng rubbed the boy’s head, glanced at Moore, and smiled. “Uncle Moore misses his dad.”

“Ah?” Kerry exclaimed in surprise. “Does Uncle Moore have a dad? How come I’ve never seen him?” In the child’s mind, a dad was someone who was always present, never absent.

Ji Feng chuckled. “Of course he has a dad. Otherwise, where would Uncle Moore have come from?”

As he said this, Ji Feng’s thoughts drifted back to the question that had been nagging at him—how were children born here? Where did they come from? His gaze unconsciously dropped to Moore’s stomach again.

This time, it was different. They were sitting so close, almost side by side, that Ji Feng’s eyes lingered there without disguise.

Moore was about to speak when he heard Little Kerry’s innocent voice.

“My father said I was picked up from a piece of colorful cloud. Isn’t that right, Uncle Moore?”

Even Moore couldn’t help but laugh a little. The sadness that had weighed on him moments before was washed away by the child’s innocence.

“Where you were picked up—only Uncle Moore’s dad knows,” Ji Feng replied solemnly.

“Where is Uncle Moore’s dad?” the little boy asked, looking at Moore with wide, innocent eyes.

After a pause, Moore answered quietly, “He has gone far, far away.”

“Uncle can’t see him?”

“Yes.”

“Does Uncle miss him very much?”

“Yes.”

“Uncle is so poor,” Kerry said suddenly, his eyes full of sympathy. In his young mind, a child without a dad was the poorest person in the world. No wonder Uncle Moore always seemed cold, as if he had never truly been happy.

Thinking of this, Little Kerry turned his head toward Ji Feng and said, “Uncle, hug Uncle Moore. Every time I think about my father, Dad hugs me and coaxes me.”

Moore: … Children’s words are without guile.

Ji Feng looked at him seriously. “Really?”

“Of course! If you don’t believe me, ask my dad,” Kerry replied earnestly.

Ji Feng turned to Moore with a smile. “Do you want me to hug you?”

Moore glared at Ji Feng unceremoniously before quickly turning his head away. His face flushed, growing hot with embarrassment.

Ji Feng, however, truly reached out and placed a hand on Moore’s shoulder. With a gentle but firm pull, Moore’s body leaned uncontrollably against him—though in truth, Ji Feng had pressed him closer.

Moore’s cheeks burned red as he quickly broke free. “Don’t make trouble!” he snapped. How could anyone take a child’s words seriously? This is ridiculous…

“Don’t be shy,” Ji Feng persisted with a teasing smile. “Come here and let me hug you.”

Little Kerry joined in, eager to help. “Uncle, just let Uncle hug you. You won’t be sad if he hugs you.”

“That’s right,” Ji Feng agreed wholeheartedly. “Just a hug.” Seeing Moore’s flustered, blushing face, Ji Feng’s mischievous side stirred again, and he began to play with him like a child.

“Ji Feng!” Moore finally snapped, gritting his teeth as he called out his full name.

His deep blue eyes blazed with anger, though there was still a trace of confusion in them as he glared at Ji Feng.

“Alright,” Ji Feng said reluctantly, releasing him. He then held Little Kerry in his arms with a pitiful expression. “Uncle Moore won’t let his uncle hold him.”

“Uncle is just shy,” Little Kerry said solemnly, trying to comfort them both. “Uncle is an adult. Even dad gets shy when father hugs him—at least in front of me and my brother.”

Moore: …

It was no wonder Ji Feng liked Little Kerry. When the boy grew up, Ji Feng suspected he would be nothing like him at all.

“Little Kerry is right. Uncle Moore is just shy,” Ji Feng said with a smile, poking the child’s nose before turning his amused gaze toward Moore.

Moore: →→

The atmosphere warmed again, filled with laughter and joy. It was the first time Little Kerry had spent so long with Uncle Moore. The boy quickly realized that his uncle was not as frightening as he seemed on the surface, but rather easy to get along with. His courage grew, especially when he climbed onto Moore’s lap and found that his uncle did not scold him at all. Emboldened, Kerry became even more daring.

“Uncle, go down and push us!” the boy cried, sitting on Moore’s lap and hugging his neck tightly, already calling out to him.

Moore rarely engaged in such close behavior. Even with his two nephews, he had never truly known how to hold them. Now, he was a little at a loss, but instinctively wrapped his arms around Kerry tightly, afraid the child might fall.

Ji Feng rubbed the boy’s head affectionately. “Alright, I’ll push you.”

“Sit tight!” Ji Feng said, gripping the swing firmly. With one strong push, the two—one large and one small—soared forward, accompanied by Kerry’s innocent giggles. The moment was carefree and full of childlike joy.

“Higher, higher—ha ha ha!” Little Kerry squealed in delight, though the sudden rush of the swing frightened him. He clutched Uncle Moore’s hand tightly, and Moore instinctively held him close.

The soaring swing stirred memories deep within Moore. Once, he too had been as innocent as Kerry, laughing freely while someone pushed him. But that person was long gone.

At the same time, Ji Feng was overcome with emotion. God alone knew how he had endured the past three hundred years. Beyond cultivation and refining tools, his life had been empty. Wouldn’t it have been better to marry, to have a wife and children, to live simply?

No—at his age, he would already have grandchildren, perhaps even great-grandchildren. Yet he had wasted centuries in monotony, only to die alongside someone insignificant. It felt senseless.

Now, as Ji Feng pushed the swing—one man, one child—he watched their smiling faces and suddenly wondered if all his past suffering had been worth it. In that moment, he had an epiphany: cultivation, refining tools, longevity—none of it mattered compared to the warmth of family, the joy of wives and children, the simple happiness of being together.

The atmosphere was too beautiful. Ji Feng’s gaze lingered on the two figures before him, unable to look away. But just then, Little Kerry, who had been laughing moments earlier, suddenly fell silent.

At first, Moore didn’t notice anything unusual. But soon he realized that the little boy in his arms was trembling, his shoulders shaking as his face buried deeper against Moore’s chest, refusing to lift.

Startled, Moore looked down and was shocked to see Kerry crying, biting his lip as tears streamed silently.

Moore froze, then quickly signaled Ji Feng to stop the swing. “Kerry, what’s wrong?” he asked in alarm.

Moore had never dealt with children before and had no idea what was happening. The boy had been so happy just moments ago—why was he suddenly crying?

“Where does it hurt, Kerry?” Moore asked again, his voice softer than ever, gentler than he had ever spoken, almost tender in nature.

Ji Feng, the seasoned cultivator, understood even less. He stood helplessly to the side, watching them. Could it be that he had pushed the swing too high?

The little boy shook his head, then simply stretched out his arms and wrapped them around Moore’s neck, pressing his small head against Moore’s shoulder.

Moore could only hold him gently, stroking his hair in quiet comfort.

After a moment, Moore heard Kerry whisper softly into his ear, “Uncle Moore, I miss my father. I haven’t seen him for a long time.”

Moore froze, uncertain how to respond. Ji Feng lowered his gaze and remained silent.

“Uncle Moore, do you know where Father went? Why hasn’t he come home for so long? Doesn’t he miss me? Doesn’t he want my brother? And dad… does he still want us?”

Moore’s chest tightened painfully. For a moment, he could hardly breathe. He could not bring himself to lie or coax the child, so he simply stroked Kerry’s back and repeated softly, “No… no…”

Ji Feng sat down beside them again, gently rubbing the boy’s head in silent comfort.

Though still young, Kerry was remarkably sensible. If he hadn’t remembered his father pushing him and his brother on the swing earlier, he would not have cried now.

Lying in Moore’s arms, Kerry sobbed quietly until he slowly calmed down. Moore continued to soothe him gently. He said nothing, but his movements were patient, and the expression in his eyes was so tender that the usual frost seemed to have melted away.

Ji Feng sighed softly as he watched Moore. “You will be a good dad one day.”

Moore raised his head in surprise, his eyes filled with astonishment. He had never even considered marriage, let alone fatherhood. In his mind, the word father had nothing to do with him—it was always about mechas, battles, and military achievements.

When he looked up, Ji Feng was gazing back at him, his eyes filled with unprecedented tenderness.

For a moment, the two of them were stunned, staring blankly into each other’s eyes as though time itself had frozen.

Then, after a long silence, Kerry—still resting against Moore’s shoulder—lifted his head, whimpered, and asked innocently, “Are you going to kiss?”

Kerry was all too familiar with such scenes. Though he felt sad and resentful, he had seen adults ignore him before, choosing instead to kiss each other. It was fine when Father and Dad did it, but now even Uncle and Uncle? To him, it felt excessive.

His little resentful face suddenly appeared between them, breaking the spell and pulling both men back to reality.

“No,” Moore said quickly, averting his gaze.

Yet his heart was pounding violently, betraying his agitation and guilt at having lost himself in the moment.

Ji Feng, too, was stunned, staring at Moore in a daze. In that brief exchange of glances, something seemed to crystallize within him—an understanding, a realization he had not expected.