As the journey back to the palace continued, Yu Xin's senses picked up on a gentle tug at his sleeve. Turning his head, he met the earnest gazes of Feng Lian and Yu Long, both holding onto his sleeve.
"Lian Er, Long Er, what's the matter?" Yu Xin's voice held a touch of curiosity, his attention fully directed towards his children.
"Dad, I want to hold your hand," Feng Lian's words were a simple declaration, a desire for closeness.
"Me, too," Yu Long's voice echoed his brother's sentiment, a longing for connection.
Yu Xin's heart swelled with warmth at their request, his lips curling into a tender smile. He extended his hands, allowing them to intertwine with Feng Lian's and Yu Long's.
"Let's go," Feng Li's voice was a quiet prompt, a gentle reminder that carried an undertone of unity.
"Okay," Feng Lian and Yu Long's voices held a shared enthusiasm, their hands securely held within their father's grasp.
Yu Xin found himself walking hand in hand with his children, his right hand connected to Feng Lian and his left to Yu Long. The sight of their intertwined fingers brought forth a wave of affection, his heart resonating with a sense of contentment.
As they walked, Yu Xin's gaze shifted between the faces of Feng Lian and Yu Long, their innocence and joy mirroring the beauty of the world around them. A thought formed within his mind, a simple yet profound realization, "They are so adorable."
Feng Li walked with a soft stride, observing the scene before him with a heart brimming with warmth. The sight of his sons, Feng Lian and Yu Long, intertwined with their father Yu Xin, brought a genuine smile to his lips. Their hands clasped together, they strolled with a cheerful camaraderie, their shared connection radiating in the simple act of walking side by side.
Upon their return to the palace, the corridors of responsibility once again beckoned Feng Li. Official affairs demanded his attention, his duties as an emperor occupying his time. Meanwhile, Yu Xin seamlessly transitioned into the role of caretaker, tending to the needs of Feng Lian and Yu Long.
As the night deepened, the palace settled into a quiet hush. Feng Li's steps led him to his bedroom, where he found Yu Xin resting in slumber. The soft glow of moonlight kissed the contours of Yu Xin's face, highlighting his peaceful countenance. A tender smile played on Feng Li's lips as he gazed upon the one who held his heart.
Cautiously, Feng Li settled onto the bed, his eyes never leaving Yu Xin's features. The gentle rise and fall of Yu Xin's chest accompanied the rhythmic cadence of his breath. A thought emerged, a whispered sentiment that echoed within Feng Li's mind, "You are so cute."
Moved by an impulse that felt almost instinctive, Feng Li leaned in and brushed his lips against Yu Xin's. The contact was feather-light, a gesture laden with affection. However, the touch stirred Yu Xin from his slumber.
"Hmmm... Feng Li?" Yu Xin's voice held a hint of drowsiness, his hand moving to rub his eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," Feng Li's voice carried a gentle apology, a touch of remorse for disrupting Yu Xin's rest.
"It's okay," Yu Xin's response was accompanied by a small, forgiving smile.
Feng Li's eyes softened as he regarded Yu Xin's features. His gaze lingered, tracing the contours of Yu Xin's face with a tenderness that spoke of profound emotion. The thought resurfaced, stronger this time, "You are so cute."
Leaning closer once more, Feng Li pressed a kiss against Yu Xin's lips. The sensation was a blend of warmth and intimacy, a connection that resonated deep within their hearts. Yu Xin's eyes fluttered closed, his heart quickening as he felt the touch of Feng Li's lips against his own.
In the hushed atmosphere of their private haven, Feng Li's voice emerged in a soft whisper, the weight of his words laden with sincerity, "I love you, Yu Xin."
Yu Xin's cheeks flushed with a delicate blush, his eyes fluttering open to meet Feng Li's gaze. The confession lingered in the air, a sentiment reciprocated by Yu Xin's own response.
"I love you, too, Feng Li," Yu Xin's words were gentle, carrying a depth of emotion that resonated between them.
Feng Li nodded, a serene smile playing on his lips. "I'll go and change my clothes," he announced, moving with a purposeful grace.
"Okay," Yu Xin's voice carried a sense of comfort, his gaze following Feng Li's departing form.
After a few moments, Feng Li returned, clad in fresh attire that mirrored the tranquility of the night. He settled onto the bed once again, his gaze tenderly fixed on Yu Xin's form.
A swell of affection surged within Feng Li as he reached out, gently pulling Yu Xin closer to him. The embrace was tender, their bodies aligned in a comforting proximity. Feng Li's voice was a soft murmur as he leaned in, his words an intimate promise that found their mark in Yu Xin's ear, "Good night, my love."
With that, Feng Li closed his eyes, allowing the embrace to deepen as the two hearts found solace in each other's presence. The room was enveloped in a serene quietude, a sanctuary of love and tenderness that transcended the passage of time.
Amidst the quiet embrace of the night, Feng Li and Yu Xin slumbered, their forms a portrait of serenity.
Yet, far beyond the reaches of their peaceful existence, in a realm separate from their own, an old man stood in solitude. His countenance bore the weight of sorrow, etched with lines of time and experience, as his gaze fixated on a small figure lying upon a bed.
The room exuded an air of melancholy, the old man's eyes lingering upon the child before him. The boy, merely three years old, lay in slumber, his features drawn with a subtle tension. His brow furrowed, a testament to the turmoil that unfolded within the realm of his dreams.
But the old man's resolve remained unyielding, the strength of his spirit concealing the sadness that crept at the edges of his eyes. With a tender determination, he summoned forth his voice, a call that broke through the veil of dreams, "You brat! Wake up, don't you want to go out to the mountain to play today?"
The child stirred, eyelashes fluttering as he roused from his sleep-induced reverie. Gazing up at the old man, he responded in a voice tinted with innocence, "Master, I got the same nightmare again."
The old man's hand met the child's forehead in a gentle knock, a gesture that held both reassurance and wisdom. "Nightmares are the tricks of the mind, a fleeting illusion meant to unnerve you. They hold no real power over you."
The child hesitated, his eyes downcast, brimming with sadness. He had posed this question to his master a thousand times before, always receiving the response he knew he would get. Still, an unshakable desire drove him to ask once more.
Pursing his lips, the child's eyes held a trace of vulnerability as he confided, "Master, Am I'm all alone? Even in my nightmare, Everyone's gone. My parents...they...am I all alone?"
Hearing this, the old man's heart ached. He had always yearned to utter the words, "The one you're aiding is the one who..." But he understood the painful reality—he couldn't. The individuals who had torn the child away from his parents were still in pursuit of the child and his family.
A sigh escaped the old man's lips, a breath laden with the weight of his own memories. His hand found solace upon the child's head, his words measured as they flowed, "They are well, my child. You will find them again, in time."
The child nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. It was a bittersweet understanding that bound him to this path. He served as a "System," assisting his host, Feng Li, in accomplishing his assignments. His master had imparted upon him the role of a system, a guide for another soul.
Though a tender age of three, the boy's capabilities far exceeded his years. The role of a system held an allure of simplicity — a realm where tasks could be accomplished with a flicker of intention, where even the concept of auto control eased the burdens he would bear.
Guided by his master's wisdom, the boy understood that should he navigate through various worlds, aiding his host in the completion of their journeys, he would, eventually, be reunited with the parents he longed for. Yet, the expanse of time was uncertain, a variable that eluded his grasp.
The boy's gaze shifted to his master, his heart weighed with unspoken emotion. A question lingered on his lips, a question he had voiced many times before, "Master, what if I can't do it?"
The old man's touch was a comfort, a soothing reassurance as he offered a slow, compassionate reply, "You can, my child. And you will."
In the tapestry of their connection, moments of guidance and intervention were woven. There were times when the old man's voice would steer the child, illuminating a path through the challenges that unfolded in his host's world. Yet, there were also instances of silence, when the old man would shield the child's gaze from the darkness that occasionally lingered within his host's journey. "It's not meant for children," the old man had uttered with solemnity.