A year later.
Meng Chuan had settled fully into this world, leaving his footprints in many places.
Chu Feng was a year old too. He had grown out of the tiny, wrinkled bundle he had been at first.
Over the past year, Chu Zhiyuan and his wife had devoted all their attention to their child.
What puzzled them, though, was that their son seemed closer to Meng Chuan.
Chu Zhiyuan often joked that Chu Feng was destined to become Meng Chuan's godson.
Meng Chuan only smiled. He knew why Chu Feng liked being near him.
The boy simply felt more comfortable by his side.
Late one night, streams of light in every color suddenly appeared overhead, driving the darkness from the sky. The dazzling colors looked like something from a dream.
Chu Feng had been crying, so Chu Zhiyuan and Wang Jing were still awake and happened to see it.
"What's that?" Wang Jing asked, poking Chu Zhiyuan.
"You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?" Chu Zhiyuan replied. Then he immediately thought of someone.
"Old Meng! Old Meng, come out! Aliens are invading!" Chu Zhiyuan ran beneath Meng Chuan's window and shouted.
He knew Meng Chuan would be awake.
A few times, Chu Zhiyuan had gone out late and spotted Meng Chuan gazing up at the stars alone.
When Chu Zhiyuan asked him about it, Meng Chuan said he needed very little rest.
Chu Zhiyuan could find him at any hour.
Meng Chuan came out and stepped into Chu Zhiyuan's yard, looking up at the changing sky.
"Fog's rising," Meng Chuan said suddenly.
A thin mist had indeed appeared between heaven and earth. It was faint, barely visible in the glow of the streaming lights.
"What's that?!" Chu Zhiyuan pointed upward.
Beneath the myriad streams of light, things