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Hu Long leaned back deep into his seat.

The leather pressed against his back, providing a solid sense of containment.

He turned his head to look out the car window.

The shrubs and trees of the green belt blurred into a smear of green, streaking rapidly backward.

Fine threads of rain gathered into rivulets on the glass, snaking downward and blurring the world outside into a flowing watercolor.

Further away, a leaden-gray sky pressed down heavily.

The surface of the lake was pelted by raindrops, creating countless fine ripples that expanded, intersected, and vanished.

Faintly, a few fish could be seen surfacing, their mouths opening and closing as they spat out bubbles.

This bridge was the only road connecting the island in the center of the lake to the outside world.

The complex of buildings behind them grew hazy in the rain and mist as the distance increased.

Seeing this, he withdrew his gaze, a thought stirring in his mind as he summoned the Primordial Plain Panel.

His eyes fell to the bottom-most entry.

[Source Value: 4.31 (strands)]

Due to the weather, his Source Value had only increased by nearly four points over the last two months.

He hated rainy days.

Without sunlight, the Source Value would not grow.

This slowed his progress in downloading skills and improving himself, and the threat of that ghost shadow remained suspended over his heart like a tightening thread.

Now that he was discharged, he needed to find a way to resolve it as soon as possible.

In the driver's seat, Hu Zhao drove while casting a quiet glance at the silent Hu Long in the rearview mirror.

He was staring out the window, lost in thought, his profile appearing somewhat distant in the dim light.

Her fingertips tapped lightly against the steering wheel before she finally spoke, breaking the silence in the cabin.

"Are you... doing alright lately?"

Hu Long's thoughts were pulled back.

He turned his face to look at this sister from his memories.

The original owner was twenty-one now, making her five years his senior at twenty-six.

Three years had passed; Hu Zhao had lost some of her former childishness and gained a touch of maturity.

Yet, her face remained the same as before.

In the original owner's memories, their relationship had been quite close, like ordinary siblings.

They used to bicker and play often.

During the three years the original owner was confined to Morning Light Psychiatric Hospital, she had visited a few times at the beginning.

But later, as the original owner's mental state took a sharp turn for the worse and he refused to see anyone, the visits gradually dwindled.

His eyes flickered, but he felt no great surge of emotion, merely offering a perfectly measured smile and a nod.

"I feel pretty good. The doctor said that as long as I take my medication on time and stay stable, it shouldn't happen again."

His voice was calm, devoid of much emotion.

"That's good."

Hu Zhao seemed to heave a sigh of relief, her gaze returning to the road ahead.

"Don't think about anything when you get home this time. Just get some good rest."

With that, the car fell silent once more.

Only the soft shushing of tires rolling over the wet road and the low hum of the air conditioning remained.

Hu Zhao had things on her mind, and with three years of time between them, she felt a strange barrier surrounding her brother, leaving her unsure of what to say.

Hu Long naturally sensed this subtle estrangement.

Although the original owner's memories remained, they were not without gaps.

And this world, judging solely by the bizarre thing attached to him, was certainly not as simple as it appeared on the surface.

Until he could be sure whether there were other means to see through his identity, maintaining the persona of the original owner—speaking as little as possible and minimizing unnecessary slips—was the wisest course of action.

Fortunately, he was wearing the identity of a mental patient.

Even if he displayed some oddities, he could always blame them on his mental illness.

"Mom and Dad haven't finished handling their business affairs yet; they're out of town and can't make it back right away."

Hu Zhao's voice sounded once more, her gaze sweeping over his face as if by chance.

"So I couldn't come to pick you up right away."

Seeing his expression remain indifferent, she continued.

"Also... in the few years you were gone, the family... added a new member."

The words had barely left her lips.

"Hm?"

Hu Long raised an eyebrow and looked up at her.

"You got married and had a kid?"

Hu Zhao choked, a faint flush of red instantly blooming on her cheeks.

"I haven't even gotten married yet, where would a child come from?"

Her tone carried a hint of annoyance, though she didn't even notice that the tense, slightly awkward atmosphere from moments ago had been largely dispelled by Hu Long's abrupt remark.

"Mom and Dad had another baby brother for us."

"Oh."

Hu Long smiled, a shallow expression that didn't reach his eyes.

"That's good."

They didn't have a child sooner or later, but chose to do so precisely when the original owner was admitted to the mental hospital.

It was clearly intentional.

But this was normal, according to the fragments of the original owner's memories.

For various reasons, although the treatment was similar, this family had always favored sons over daughters.

In the past, the parents' favoritism had fallen on him.

Now that his "main account" had been diagnosed with a mental illness, it was effectively ruined.

Naturally, they needed to level up a "smurf account," which was well within expectations.

If the original owner were here, perhaps he would feel sad.

However, for Hu Long, it didn't stir any ripples in his heart.

Such a situation was not hard to accept.

Whether to have children or not was the parents' own choice; it was not for the children to interfere.

Besides, given the family's financial foundation, let alone one more, even if there were eight or ten more, could they not afford to raise them?

In the driver's seat.

Seeing Hu Long's calm reaction through the rearview mirror, Hu Zhao felt a sense of relief, yet a trace of heartache welled up.

She had come alone today with the intention of testing the waters and easing the transition, fearing that too many people would lead to loose lips, or that a wrong word might trigger a relapse of his condition.

Seeing this scene.

The heart that had been hanging in her chest the entire journey finally settled a little.

Hu Long was naturally unaware of her complex considerations.

Even if he knew, he probably wouldn't care.

Having transmigrated here, facing these "blood relatives" who existed only in his memories.

Although he was more familiar with them than with strangers, it was difficult to develop any deep, visceral bond.

However, thanks to this diversion, the atmosphere had eased significantly.

The two began to chat sporadically, mostly Hu Zhao asking questions and Hu Long giving brief answers.

Their voices were low, blending into the sound of the rain and the engine, not feeling out of place at all.

About fifteen minutes later, the car driving through the curtain of rain slowly decelerated and turned into a quiet residential complex.

Quite different from the towering skyscrapers outside, the buildings here were low-slung, with continuous grey-tiled roofs.

In the rain, they appeared even more hazy and pleasant.

The eaves of the walls outlined wave-like arcs in the rain, appearing to rise and fall continuously as the car drove past.

At the entrance, the three characters for "Qiwu Garden" exuded elegance.

Not far away, an ancient canal lay quietly, its water reflecting the sky.

The car followed the soft guide lights on the ground, sliding into the ramp leading to the underground garage.

On both sides were rugged stone walls, and the linear light strips on the ceiling cast a warm glow, reflected downward by the rock face.

Hu Long's gaze swept over them, and he understood, feeling no surprise.

The original owner's family background was excellent.

They owned pharmaceutical factories and had even ventured into real estate development in recent years.

This Qiwu Garden before him.

Was a top-tier garden villa complex built by his father and others.

The entire area consisted of only twelve buildings, with the four seasons, four arts, and four rhymes as the core, each named and landscaped accordingly. The prices were staggering, with each square meter worth several years of savings for an ordinary family.

Even the cheapest unit was valued in the hundreds of millions.