Mother

Turning back, the words on his lips died away. Was this spirited man with the slicked-back hair really his son?

"Hengzi, you... are you seeing someone?"

Yang Huifen's eyes suddenly welled up, filled with a mix of surprise and suspicion.

Wu Heng looked at the middle-aged woman before him. Her face was haggard, yet her eyes were red with excitement and her expression beamed with joy. He didn't know what to say.

The other soul was gone. Though he was the child she had birthed and he had grown up in this body, the two of them had been unaware of each other's existence for twenty years. She had gained a son, but she had also lost one.

"No, I just had a sudden realization about life. I don't want to keep wasting it."

Wu Heng knew that saying too much invited mistakes, so he replied according to the habits he'd gleaned from the memories in his mind.

For some reason, he felt a sudden fear—a fear that all of this was a dream, and a fear of losing it all.

"Good, good, good. That puts Mom's heart at ease."

Yang Huifen brought two sets of bowls and chopsticks to the table and set down two portions of fried rice.

"Eat up. I got off work late today, you must be hungry, right?"

"Yeah, a little."

Wu Heng picked up the rice and took a large mouthful. He glanced at the plastic bag, which was printed with "Hu's Egg Fried Rice," and thought to himself that this place's fried rice was surprisingly good; he would have to try it again tomorrow.

As he ate, he glanced at his mother, Yang Huifen, and found her staring at him with a constant, beaming smile, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes curved with joy.

"Mom, why do you keep staring at me?"

Wu Heng felt a bit strange being watched like that.

"What's wrong? Can't I look at my own son? I'm just thinking that since my son is so handsome now, he'll definitely be able to find a pretty girlfriend."

Yang Huifen replied happily, but just as she was about to continue, her phone rang.

"Hello, Team Leader Liu? Yes, I've already returned. That's fine, tomorrow works? Oh... alright, alright, alright."

Wu Heng watched Yang Huifen as she took the call, noting the intermittent strands of white hair on her head, and felt that he needed to hurry up and sell those ginseng roots.

After finishing their meal, Wu Heng and Yang Huifen watched television for a while before heading to their respective bedrooms to sleep.

The morning sun rose slowly, its magnificent rays piercing through the gauze-like clouds and spilling gently onto the window glass, ushering in a warm and cozy morning.

Wu Heng rose lazily, stretched his limbs, and twisted his body, eliciting a series of crisp cracking sounds from his bones.

He walked to the window and pulled back the curtains.

Outside, white clouds drifted slowly, and the air, tinged with wisps of cooking smoke, drifted in through the window.

He could see figures in the residential building opposite: hanging laundry, brushing teeth, washing faces, and pacing back and forth on their balconies.

The singing of children downstairs, the sound of an elderly person's exercise whip, the chirping of birds in the trees, and the roar of electric scooters and car engines all mingled with the sounds of greetings and conversation.

His mother, Yang Huifen, had left for work half an hour ago. For the current Wu Heng, it didn't matter if he didn't sleep for a long time, but he simply wanted to experience this feeling at home.

Wu Heng picked up his phone and checked the forum. The post about the century-old ginseng had over a hundred replies, ranging from purchase inquiries to skepticism and accusations.

He scrolled through carefully until he found a user named "Medicine Valley Old Freak" and sent a private message.

Because this person's personal verification showed they were the director of a traditional Chinese medicine hospital, and the price offered was very reasonable, they seemed quite sincere.

The message was replied to instantly; it seemed the person on the other end had been waiting.

After some tentative communication, Wu Heng decided to bring three roots to the transaction. These were items he had acquired at a high price in the plot world; they varied in age and appearance, and the way they had been harvested and preserved differed, clearly marking them as collector's items.

It wasn't impossible for the older generation of the Wu family to have secretly collected a few good things.

Wu Heng finished washing up quickly and stepped out of the house. As he locked the door, he heard the door next door open as well.

He looked back to see Lili, whom he had met at the entrance of the residential complex yesterday. The two exchanged a smile as a greeting and said nothing more.

Wu Heng quickly arrived at the agreed-upon teahouse. After some negotiation, the other party agreed to pay ten million for the three ginseng roots and expressed that they would take as many of these genuine century-old wild ginsengs as he could provide.

Wu Heng looked at the ten million that had just arrived in his account. The money had come quickly, but this would be the only time; after all, the Wu family were not descendants of royalty, and it was impossible for them to have enough heirlooms to sell every day. Too many transactions would inevitably invite suspicion.

He then casually bought some clothes, electronics, and a Price sedan worth a million before heading home.

"Hengzi, this money... where did it come from? You didn't do anything bad, did you?"

That evening, Yang Huifen sat at the table, looking at the five million Wu Heng had transferred to her card, asking with a mix of excitement and worry.

"Don't worry, Mom. Look at the sender, 'Miracle Hand Studio.' It's a famous traditional Chinese medicine hospital. I've been trading medicinal herbs online; it's legitimate income."

Wu Heng spun a casual lie. He wasn't afraid of his family knowing he was making money, nor did he subscribe to the foolish idea of hiding it from them out of concern for their hearts.

He believed his mother was capable of handling this amount of money.

"It really is... Hengzi, you won't have to worry about finding a wife now. Mom will save this money for you."

Only after seeing the verification on her mobile banking interface did Yang Huifen believe him.

"No need to save it. I'll be earning plenty more later. You should just quit that factory job; that way, I can focus on earning money without worry."

Wu Heng picked up a cup of ginseng tea and handed it to Yang Huifen.

"That works. I'll go tell the factory tomorrow. From now on, I'll be just like Old Lady Zhang on the third floor—taking walks in the park every day and keeping fit."

Yang Huifen was never one to be pretentious. She had only worked so hard out of necessity to take care of her child, so now that he could earn his own living, she naturally felt at ease.

After settling his mother's affairs, Wu Heng returned to his room to study the Lighthouse once more.

According to the manual, the fourth day of every twelfth dungeon month is "Lights-Out Day." Everyone is summoned into the Lighthouse, at which point the Lighthouse and the sub-towers of the Tower Lords go dark, allowing the horrors within the Mystery Domain to run rampant.

The only way to avoid this catastrophe is to enter a dungeon and return to reality only after completing it. Alternatively, those who believe themselves strong enough can choose to remain in Lighthouse Plaza; if they can survive the onslaught of the unknown horrors from the Mystery Domain, they can also make it through.

However, the dungeons for that month are always large-scale horror instances with mandatory death quotas, making it difficult for anyone without sufficient strength to make it out alive.

With only three and a half months left until Lights-Out Day, it felt unfair for someone like Wu Heng who had entered the Lighthouse late, but the Lighthouse had never been a place of fairness.

The manual noted that many Tower Lords had once speculated on the morality of the Lighthouse, only to conclude with four words: It does not care!

Wu Heng disliked being passive, so he planned to enter the story worlds ahead of schedule, experience more worlds, and rapidly develop his strength.

Wu Heng sat at the desk, picked up a pen and paper, and began to recall the plot of the Tumbbad world.

Are you willing to trade your collections, monthly tickets, and recommendation votes for two bags of laundry detergent?