Chapter Fifty-Four: Homecoming (Part Two)

"Hey, Big Head Guo, I thought you were so tough, but you still came running home!" At the doorway, Guo Lang looked at the smug little chubby boy standing before him. Everything felt so surreal. In the past, he and his younger sister hadn't really been that close—she was just too mischievous. Yet it’s only when one loses something that one realizes its worth. Seeing her now, Guo Lang's eyes reddened, and tears welled up uncontrollably.

"Hey, hey… are you serious? When did you become such a crybaby? I… I was just joking with you on the phone. You're a grown man—how could Dad possibly beat you? Hey, come on, don't cry! You look terrible!" The usually sharp-tongued little chubby girl was so startled by the sight that she even stammered.

Crying…? Guo Lang snapped to his senses, quickly wiping his eyes, a bit embarrassed. "It's nothing. I just got too excited seeing you, that's all."

"Eh?" Guo Xiaoting crossed her arms, her face full of suspicion. "Something's weird about you today. Let me deduce what’s going on." She squinted her round, chubby face and mulled it over for a long moment before suddenly exclaiming, "I got it! You were caught daydreaming about Ding Xiaoyu, weren't you? And then you got humiliated and trampled on! Geez, big brother, I've told you before—stalking will never work!"

Guo Lang’s face stiffened. He couldn’t help but think, why is it that some girls, like Alice, are so normal, while his own sister was so infuriating?

After some bickering, Guo Lang finally stepped into the house he hadn’t entered for over ten years. Everything was so familiar, his eyes reddened again, but this time he managed to hold back the tears. After all, he was about to see his parents and needed to act natural.

Inside, just around the corner was the dining room. At the head of the table sat a man in his forties. Though approaching fifty, his back was straight and his demeanor solid—he had the unmistakable bearing of a soldier. When he saw Guo Lang enter, the man’s face remained stern, and he simply cast him a severe glance.

"Dad!" Guo Lang paused, a wave of affection surging in his heart. This dignified man before him was his father, Guo Zhenghua.

"Hmm?" Guo Zhenghua looked surprised. Usually, this rascal of a son would avoid him at all costs, like a mouse avoiding a cat. But today, the boy’s gaze was oddly fervent—almost… affectionate.

"So, you finally decided to come home?" Guo Zhenghua sneered, his attitude unchanged despite his son’s odd behavior.

Guo Lang scratched his head awkwardly, but walked over naturally and found a seat.

"Huh?" Guo Zhenghua was taken aback. The boy walked with a new confidence, his steps steady—so different from the timid way he used to slink around. That alone sparked a flicker of satisfaction in him. Having come from a military background before becoming a police officer—now deputy director at the city bureau—Guo Zhenghua had always despised his son’s former cowardice.

He didn’t know what had gotten into the boy today, but, whatever it was, this new spirit was a good sign. Still, his expression remained stern. "I hear from Xiaoting that you got up before dawn just to wait for some game? Out the door by five? Never seen you so enthusiastic about anything else!"

Guo Lang looked at his father, suppressing his excitement and trying to keep his voice calm. "Sorry, Dad. I forgot Mom’s birthday. It won’t happen again."

"Hmph!" Guo Zhenghua snorted, though inwardly he was pleased. This boy used to make every excuse to dodge responsibility, but now he admitted his mistake openly. Perhaps he really was growing up.

"Soup’s ready! Time to eat!" came Xiaoting’s cheerful voice from the kitchen. She bounded in with bowls and chopsticks, skipping over to Guo Zhenghua. "Dad, Mom made your favorite pork hock soup tonight!"

A rare smile appeared on Guo Zhenghua’s usually stern face. He reached out to pat Xiaoting’s head. "Good girl. Go take your seat. But a young lady should be more ladylike."

"What’s the point of being ladylike? I want to be a police officer like you when I grow up!"

"Good, good!" His smile widened. "You’ll be much more accomplished than your brother—a fine police officer one day."

Guo Lang felt unjustly targeted and was about to protest when a beautiful woman emerged from the kitchen, carefully carrying a tureen of soup. Her features were dignified and elegant, with a gentle grace. Guo Lang shot to his feet. "Mom!"

Startled, she nearly spilled the soup. The whole family stared at him. Guo Lang realized his blunder and sat back down, embarrassed.

"You little rascal, did you do that on purpose?" His mother, Lin Meiru, set down the soup and gave him an affectionate scolding.

"Of course not," Guo Lang protested. "It’s just that you look even prettier after a few months apart—I got a bit emotional."

"Oh my!" Lin Meiru teased him. "What’s gotten into you? Your tongue’s all honeyed today. Did you get into trouble? Better confess now, and I’ll see if I can go easy on you!"

Guo Lang broke out in a cold sweat under his father’s stern gaze and hurriedly waved his hands. "I swear, I mean it, Mom! From the bottom of my heart!"

"Is that so?" She was about to say more when Guo Zhenghua interrupted: "Let’s eat."

The family fell silent and began their meal. The Guo household was strict: no talking at the table. The dishes were simple home-cooked fare—salt-fried pork, spicy and sour shredded potatoes, stir-fried vegetables, and Xiaoting’s favorite savory steamed egg. At the center was Mom’s specialty: winter melon and pork hock soup. Her cooking was exquisite, and everyone ate with great relish.

After the meal, Guo Zhenghua set down his chopsticks and cleared his throat. Guo Lang immediately straightened his back, knowing a lecture was coming.

"What are your plans now that you’re in your last term of university?"

Guo Lang replied seriously, "I’ve finished my courses. I plan to find a part-time job to gain some experience, review my studies in the evenings, and prepare for the teacher’s qualification exam."

"Oh?" The whole family looked at him in astonishment. Lin Meiru was incredulous, and for the first time, Guo Zhenghua’s face showed approval. "Good. You’re finally thinking pragmatically—looks like you’ve matured." In the past, Guo Lang had always talked about going into business, refusing to work or consider teaching. Guo Zhenghua wasn’t against business, but believed that success required a process of hard work and experience. He would never risk the family’s savings on his son’s wild ideas.

"Have you found a part-time job yet?" Guo Zhenghua, a straightforward leader, always got to the point.

Guo Lang lied without batting an eye, "I have an interview for a security guard position. The pay isn’t great—less than three thousand—but it includes meals and lodging. The main thing is, there’s a military-style training, so I think it would be a good experience."

"Not bad," Guo Zhenghua nodded. Lin Meiru was also pleased—her husband rarely praised their son, and now he’d done so several times in a row.

"Tonight, we’re celebrating your mom’s birthday. We’ll have hot pot at Qinlin Garden. Don’t go wandering off this afternoon. At five, take my car, pick up Xiaoting, then your mom, and meet us at the bureau."

"Okay, Dad," Guo Lang agreed.

"Yay! Hot pot!" Xiaoting cheered, only for Lin Meiru to shoot her a look and wipe the grease from her lips, scolding with a smile, "All you think about is food. Look how chubby you’re getting!"

"Aw…" Xiaoting pouted, cuddling up to her mom in protest. Her father watched them with a smile. Guo Lang’s eyes stung again at the scene, nearly in tears, and quickly bowed his head to hide it.

"Don’t forget!" As the two headed out, Guo Zhenghua turned back to remind his unreliable son once more.

"Don’t worry, Dad," Guo Lang replied with a wry smile.

After his parents left, Guo Lang quietly closed the door. Memories of his past life came flooding back—his weary mother recounting what happened after he disappeared. That very night, the city was thrown into chaos, with terrorists—really just players who had returned early—wreaking havoc.

And it was that night that his father’s legs were broken by a man named Sun Biao.

How could he ever forget? Sun Biao, was it? A purple light flashed in Guo Lang’s eyes as he reached into his spatial pouch and pulled out the vial of royal bloodline serum.