Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lady Magu Duanmu

Night descended, stars filled the sky, and Shen Liangxin and Li Fengyin left their laboratory to head to the surface, intending to pick up some supplies.

Although they could have asked the laboratory caretakers to assist, today was different. It was the Mid-Autumn Festival, a day for reunion. The two decided to spend the time alone, though Li Fengyin had no grand agenda, and Shen Liangxin felt the same; they shared a tacit understanding.

Mid-Autumn Festival.
Night stars fill the sky, lanterns adorn the towers; wine and song, when will they cease?
The lady lingers by the lantern riddles, the young master gently enjoys a midnight snack.

Li Fengyin posted this poem he had just composed to his Q-zone. Beside him, Shen Liangxin looked on with envy. "Once I can write verses as good as these, why don't we write stories together—stories and knowledge about everything? What do you say?"

"Alright."

Nodding, the twenty-eight-year-old man, Li Fengyin, realized that from now on, he would have to shoulder a bit more responsibility and expectation.

"The moon is pale, people like the moon; there are always clouds and clear skies, waxings and wanings."

When these two lines occurred to Li Fengyin, he was surprised to hear Shen Liangxin speak them aloud.

The young woman, looking smug, pressed her hand against a lantern on the pedestrian street and laughed. "The ones on this lantern aren't even as good as the two lines you just thought of."

As their quantum entanglement continued to deepen, Shen Liangxin simply stopped pretending. She could even read the thoughts in the sea of Li Fengyin’s mind, and he experienced similar sensations, though he had yet to form the intent to read her mind.

Regarding the experiments on quantum entanglement and Li Fengyin's hypotheses, the two were a mere window-paper’s thickness away from breaking through, yet neither had spoken the truth to the other.

"The moon is pale, hidden by dark clouds and white mist; on Mid-Autumn, we eat mooncakes and speak to one another."

Shen Liangxin walked toward the next red lantern and her eyes widened instantly. "Hey, these two lines are great. They're very similar to your style."

"Ahem, actually, I wrote those."

Li Fengyin was somewhat speechless. A few days ago, he had seen a contest in Shangbei City calling for poems, so he had entered. These were the lines that had been selected, earning him free admission to the Shangbei Mid-Autumn Lantern Festival and a gift.

It was only then that Shen Liangxin noticed the name of the poet listed below the lines: "He Fang."

"Your pen name is He Fang?" Shen Liangxin was surprised. "He? Are you sure?!"

"It's just a pen name."

Li Fengyin whispered the two characters, then continued searching through the lanterns and the crowds. "There’s another poem I wrote, let me find it."

"!"

Shen Liangxin was astonished. "You are terrifying!"

The twenty-five-and-a-half-year-old woman then began to search through the lanterns as well, provided they kept each other within sight.

Full Moon.
Passing guests in the human world, sighing over the trifles of home,
If only there were no partings, hoping for blossoms to flourish and the moon to be full.

Just as they reached the end of the lantern display, they heard someone reciting poetry. Realizing it shared Li Fengyin’s style, they spotted the young girl reciting it, followed by her parents.

The girl looked to be about thirteen or fourteen, dressed in a red coat, yet she possessed an elusive quality—a faint, ethereal aura that seemed to flicker in and out of existence. Of course, this was something only Li Fengyin could perceive.

Perhaps, a fated connection?

Li Fengyin took Shen Liangxin’s hand and approached the girl. "What is your name?"

"Me?" The girl pointed at herself. The stunning woman beside Li Fengyin nodded, and the woman behind the girl added, "Go on, tell them!"

The man standing beside the woman curled his lips, as if expecting something.

"My name is Magu."

Finally, the childish voice spoke. The name surprised Li Fengyin. "And your surname?"

"Surname? What's that?"

Just as the girl looked confused, the man added, "The surname is Duanmu."

"Duanmu Magu..." Shen Liangxin murmured, a smile touching her lips. "What a wonderful name!"

At that moment, Li Fengyin reached out and handed over the gift box he had received for his second poem, placing it into the girl’s outstretched hands.

"I don't know what’s inside, but it must be very meaningful," Li Fengyin said softly, leaning down.

Duanmu Magu nodded slightly and replied, "Actually, I didn't mean to be impolite. It's just that Mom and Dad taught me that for a child, accepting a gift from an adult is the polite thing to do."

Li Fengyin reached out and patted Magu on the head. "Hmm, that makes sense."

Shen Liangxin watched the girl, feeling more unsettled the longer she looked. This person definitely did not belong to the modern world!

After parting ways with the family of three, Li Fengyin and Shen Liangxin sat down at the Wanxiang Tower. It was famous for its 80-yuan bowl of oil-splashed noodles, and since they cherished this day, they decided to treat themselves.

"That girl... was she a deity?" Shen Liangxin slurped a noodle before asking Li Fengyin.

Li Fengyin was speechless. "How would I know? I just saw that she was a bit unusual. To be precise, she seemed to have a faint trace of... celestial aura?"

Outside the Wanxiang Tower, the lights were bright, traffic flowed like a dragon, and in the sky, the full moon hung like a jade plate.

The scene shifted. In a five-star hotel in Shangbei City, a blue-eyed, blonde white man had called for a cosplayer in a maid outfit to serve him a mooncake, a Chinese specialty. He was in a good mood, but when a figure appeared before him, he felt a deep, instinctive dread.

Mikov Lupton, the third-wealthiest banker in the United States, possessed a sturdy physique, but he knew well that this person was no ordinary man. The ethereal sensation and the underlying killing intent made his hair stand on end.

"Do Chinese people not spend the Mid-Autumn Festival reuniting?!" Lupton questioned the maid nearby. Just as he was about to lash out, his wrist was seized by Su Mingyu, who had appeared out of nowhere.

"No need to lose your temper," Su Mingyu said in a gentle voice. "I will wait until the festival is over to kill you. But before then, you can offer me enough leverage or a reason for me not to."

"Of course, I am just a killer. Someone high up in China wants to save your life, so I am here to negotiate."

Hearing this, Lupton stood up, put on his suit, and neatly adjusted his blue tie. "Please allow me to maintain some dignity. But may I ask, who wants me dead?"

"China hopes that you can still be of some use."

This was the hint Su Mingyu provided.

Mikov Lupton fell into a brief silence. He had already grasped the seemingly impossible conjecture—much like Dr. Connor—but Lupton’s value lay in his wealth.

At this moment, the great upheaval began to churn in the shadows. Where everything would lead, no one could say.

After finishing their noodles, Li Fengyin and Shen Liangxin walked through the Furong Garden, clutching colorful cotton candy, where the annual Mid-Autumn Festival song and dance performance was underway.