Chapter 139: The Flying Black-and-White Dumpling
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
Lin Xu continued, “I want them to stay in hiding a bit longer. Once things settle down, I’ll help them set up new identities and get back to Slime Star.”
Lu’a and Lu’la lay flat, passively letting Lin Xu make the decisions for them. Heinrich glanced at the two slimes. “We can send them to the Abyss Fleet temporarily. The reach of Capital Star doesn’t extend that far.”
“Lu’a, Lu’la, what do you think?” Lin Xu asked.
“Handsome Mr. Lin is always right,” Lu’la replied. “We want lots of syrup. I feel all hollow now.”
Abandoning the majority of their physical mass had been a painful test for the slimes as well.
“No problem,” Lin Xu said. “Marshal Chu will make sure you have everything you need.”
The two pale yellow slimes rolled over and clung to each other, sniffling. Their child, Luli, had already jumped from Yuanxiao’s waist to the top of their head. The little dragon tried hard to tilt their blue eyes upward, attempting to bring their new friend into view.
Zhou Pingbo spoke up. “Shall we talk about Yuanxiao now?”
Lin Xu turned toward him. “What aspects did the genetic test cover?”
“I compared Yuanxiao’s genes with those of dragons, merfolk, and humans. They’re a new hybrid model. There’s no prior data to reference, so the sequencing results can’t be used to screen for congenital conditions. But I did do a radiological scan. Their bones and muscles are very strong. Nothing to worry about.”
“Their?”
“A boy,” Zhou Pingbo clarified. “But it’s unclear if they’ll undergo ABO gender differentiation in the future. Also, their vocal system is of the dragon variety. The sounds they’ll be able to produce might not fully match human language.
“Heinrich and I talked about some case studies on spiritual domain communication. I think you’ll want to start early education in that direction. The early developmental period is critical—don’t miss it.”
Lin Xu turned to look at Yuanxiao and Luli playing around like two goofballs and felt the full weight of raising a child settle on his shoulders. “We’ll keep that in mind. Do you have any specific suggestions, Professor Zhou?”
“Uh…” Zhou Pingbo hesitated. Heinrich stepped in smoothly, his tone unbothered. “He’s single. Doesn’t raise kids. No experience.”
“That’s right, that’s right.” Zhou Pingbo smoothed his sparse hair and nodded in agreement. “Arnold too. Only you two and the slimes have experience with relationships or raising children.”
Arnold had been quietly enjoying his meal. This restaurant was outrageously expensive, but the food was worth every credit. He’d been happily freeloading off his superior’s plate when Zhou Pingbo dragged him into the conversation. It felt like being a perfectly fine dog walking down the street, only to get kicked for no reason. So what if he was single? He was the one who successfully played matchmaker between Marshal Chu and Mr. Lin.
…The more he thought about it, the more tragic it felt. Fortunately, Zhou Pingbo finally let the other single dog in the room off the hook and turned back to discussing parenting with the Lin Xu couple, going over every detail.
“Do you want to register Yuanxiao for an Imperial ID? He’s still small and might not be able to take human form yet, but he’s clearly a sentient being. The Empire can register him—though the species field might be hard to fill out.”
Heinrich looked at Lin Xu for confirmation. After a moment of thought, Lin Xu nodded. Heinrich said, “Do it. I’ll take care of it.”
“What are you planning to name him? Still going with Yuanxiao?”
Lin Xu caught Heinrich’s gaze again and gave his elbow a light pat before answering Zhou Pingbo. “Naming traditions vary between dragons, merfolk, and humans. We haven’t decided which system to use yet.”
“No rush. We can sort that out together,” Zhou Pingbo said, rubbing his hands together. He spent most of his time naming new weapons, newly discovered Zerg variants, and cutting-edge research methods, so he found naming discussions especially engaging.
“What about the surname?” he asked Lin Xu. “Want to combine everything into a long middle name?”
It was clear to Zhou Pingbo that Heinrich had almost no say in this matter. He only spoke after repeatedly checking Lin Xu’s opinion.
When they’d brought Yuanxiao to his lab earlier that afternoon, Heinrich had been tense from head to toe. His expression and posture were rigid. The researchers they passed all fell silent and gave him a wide berth, alarmed by the chill radiating off Marshal Chu.
Zhou Pingbo had been spooked too, thinking Heinrich disliked the black-and-white baby dragon—only to realize later that Heinrich had just been paralyzed with nerves. When Zhou Pingbo drew blood from Yuanxiao, the little one didn’t make a sound—but Marshal Chu demonstrated his nerves by crushing a metal plate with his bare hand on the spot.
Lin Xu said, “Dragons and merfolk don’t use surnames. Heinrich?”
Lu’a and Lu’la bounced on the table and chimed in with some oozy sounds of agreement, saying slimes didn’t use surnames either.
“No Chu,” Heinrich said firmly. He didn’t want their child burdened by family legacy.
“Alright,” Lin Xu said after a moment of thought. “Then no surname. We’ll call him… Yuanxiao Volans.”
“What does ‘Volans’ mean?” Zhou Pingbo asked.
“Old Earth Latin,” Lin Xu replied. “It means ‘flying.’”
Arnold, who had been listening and eating on the side, choked, and Zhou Pingbo froze for a moment. Heinrich had once told Zhou Pingbo that yuanxiao was an ancient Earth dessert—half white, half black. So didn’t Yuanxiao Volans essentially mean “a flying black-and-white dumpling”?
Still, thinking of Lin Xu’s two rabbit-cats, named Blackie and Snowy, it suddenly felt quite fitting that Lin Xu would straightforwardly name their child something as literal as “Flying Black-and-White Dumpling.”
Zhou Pingbo looked at Yuanxiao with affection. “Little one, from now on, your name is Yuanxiao Volans.”
At that moment, Yuanxiao had sprawled Luli out across the table, pressing their little forepaws into the slime’s body like they were kneading dough. They looked innocently toward Zhou Pingbo. “Lulu-lele?”
Lin Xu pinched the little dragon tail. Why were they mimicking slime noises again?
“Ying-ying, lulu, roar!”
After the four of them finished eating together, Zhou Pingbo returned to the lab, Arnold went back to his place on the capital planet, and Lin Xu and Heinrich said their goodbyes. With their arms full of small critters and soft belongings, they headed off to pick up the rabbit-cats from S297. From there, they boarded a shuttle and took the space elevator back to Planet Endymion.
At that time, the Cacamorra Plains were still shrouded in that dim, gray daylight. As soon as Lin Xu opened the door, he saw the family of blue squirrels he’d left at home all lined up, curiously peering over to see who had returned.
Blackie and Snowy immediately leapt out of Lin Xu and Heinrich’s arms, sending the blue squirrel family scattering in panic. The rabbit-cats chased after them with loud yowls.
Perched on Lin Xu’s shoulder, Yuanxiao clutched Luli and looked around the house with wide, curious eyes.
Heinrich placed Lu’a on the round table by the window, then stepped back outside to sign for a large parcel delivered by a courier bot—the real baby crib they had ordered for Yuanxiao.
Outside, thick clouds pressed low against the sky. The whole view was drenched in a damp, chill gray that quieted the heart and made one feel calm, like the land itself was waiting for the next rainfall across the grasslands.
The lighting inside was a little dim, so Lin Xu turned on the bedroom light and set Yuanxiao on the bed, handing them a sea crystal to chew on while he went to organize the warehouse behind the house.
Soon, a massive pile of gifts brought back from Thales would be delivered by soldiers from the Abyss Fleet. There was no way they’d fit inside the house. He’d need to open the long-unused warehouse again.
Heinrich carried the package upstairs to the bedroom and started assembling the baby crib. Before the storms came, life would continue—its peace, a present comfort, and a future nostalgia.
—
The day after they returned to Endymion, Lin Xu went back to work. Heinrich took Yuanxiao to register their identity.
On the third day, the slime family was sent to the Abyss Fleet’s station. Yuanxiao clung to Luli at the doorway, reluctant to say goodbye. After watching the aircraft disappear into the sky, they threw themselves into Heinrich’s arms, sobbing big, round tears.
A few hours later, they were lying on the floor, cuddling Snowy while leaning against Blackie, their soft white belly exposed as they watched the blue squirrel family groom each other and crack open nuts.
Lin Xu was off at the Ancient Earth Natural Science Museum for work, while Heinrich stayed behind, alone at home. He decided that it was time to begin Yuanxiao’s early education.
If not, he feared that once Yuanxiao grew a little older, all they would be able to say would still be “ying-ying,” “lulu,” “squeak-squeak,” and “raawr.”
Lin Xu had been assigned a new restoration task in the artifact management wing—a relatively well-preserved ancient text. By damage grade, it wasn’t something that should’ve landed on his desk. A standard researcher could’ve handled it. But the text was in ancient Huaxia script, and most researchers couldn’t decipher it. That’s why it was handed to him. Lately, there has been a surge of artifacts related to ancient Huaxia.
Previously, the expedition team had asked Lin Xu about a stone monument in Huaxia script. Once it was roughly translated, a few scholars sent him emails thanking him for his ongoing support and help. They said they wanted to credit him as a co-author on their upcoming publication. Lin Xu replied that he would need to review the final draft first.
They agreed readily and also invited him to the upcoming symposium on Ancient Earth discoveries. Lin Xu accepted the invitation but added that the date hadn’t been set yet, and his attendance would depend on his availability.
He had begun investigating the assassin he encountered days earlier at the Perser Hotel. It was the only way to start gathering evidence on the real person behind the attempt. It was his only entry point.
Even though Lin Xu had evidence of the Empire’s falsified history, he doubted he could convince the public or even publish anything meaningful. Revealing the secret would shake the Empire’s credibility—but wouldn’t directly expose the person who killed Marianna.
The scholar who received his reply felt it was an honor to have Lin Xu involved and had no complaints about his scheduling.
Interns came and went at the museum, new researchers joined regularly, and Lin Xu wasn’t familiar with many of the current staff in artifact management. He finished his tasks with little interruption.
That helped stabilize his mood. With a faster work pace, he finished the restoration ahead of schedule and placed the ancient text into a stabilizing container, ready to clock out for the day. As he passed through the exhibit hall, he noticed it was strangely empty—no visitors in sight.
That was odd. Lately, the museum has been flooded with crowds. It wasn’t closing time yet, so it shouldn’t have been this deserted. But that had nothing to do with him. He headed toward the split staircase at the front hall, planning to leave, when a voice suddenly called out.
“Dr. Lin.”
Lin Xu was just a few steps from the resting platform between the European-style double staircases. He paused and looked down toward where the voice had come from.
Standing in the center of the grand hall, dressed in pristine white royal uniform, was the Emperor, looking up at him. A cluster of guards and attendants surrounded him respectfully.
Lin Xu understood then. The museum had been cleared out to make way for the Emperor’s unannounced visit.
This Title is available for faster chapter releases through paid Patreon membership. Any proceeds go to keeping the website running. Check it out HERE.
