The message Lance Blue sent Elliot told him that he wanted to know whether he could stay at Grant’s home long-term. Elliot agreed.
Deciding to live at Grant’s house was Lance Blue’s own choice, though it had also been Grant’s suggestion.
The temporary room Elliot had arranged for him at the community center was still there, but Lance Blue knew he could not stay there forever.
The residency documents for Hero Tower were in his backpack. He had not signed them.
It was too far away, too high up, and too unfamiliar.
Grant’s suggestion had come naturally.
"Yvette needs a study companion, and Cyan will probably be going to an orphanage soon. There’s still an empty room on the second floor. We can tidy it up and make it livable."
He looked at Lance Blue. "You can take your time figuring out what you want to do next."
"This place is close to the library, and Yvette can help you catch up on your studies, too."
Lance Blue nodded without much hesitation.
He needed a place to stop and sort out his thoughts.
Here, there were people who could help him, as well as people he wanted to understand.
He had pitifully little luggage.
An old backpack, a few new outfits Elliot had bought for him, and that gold Union Coin.
The move took only two hours.
Mrs. Zhang cleared out the small room at the end of the second-floor hallway.
The room faced south. Its window overlooked the old locust tree in the backyard and a small patch of lawn.
The furnishings were simple: a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe.
The bed was made with clean blue sheets, and the curtains were light gray.
"Just tell me if you need anything." Mrs. Zhang patted his shoulder, her smile gentle. "Make yourself at home."
Lance Blue set his backpack at the foot of the bed and walked to the window. Downstairs, Cyan was crouched at the edge of the lawn, intently looking at something.
Her cyan hair looked like soft silk in the afternoon sunlight.
And so his days settled into a new rhythm.
..........
His new life unfolded peacefully.
Every morning, Lance Blue would read by himself, review what Yvette Grant had taught him the previous day, or help Mrs. Zhang with a few simple chores.
At three in the afternoon, the study door would open right on time, and Yvette Grant would appear with her books and an almost ceremonial focus.
Study time was immovable.
A genius’s self-discipline really was strict.
Lance Blue admired that. He could not manage such consistency every day. Even back when he had to outwit others for food, he had never been that punctual.
She was also a strict teacher.
Progress, comprehension, memorization—she had requirements for Lance Blue in every respect.
Lance Blue found studying difficult. The abstract theories and complicated historical events often made his head spin.
But he did not complain.
Whenever he got stuck, Yvette Grant’s clear, calm explanations would always dismantle the difficult problem step by step, as though she were taking apart a complex machine.
Beneath that face that showed almost no expression, many subtle changes were hidden.
........
Besides studying, another small presence in the house occupied part of Lance Blue’s attention.
Cyan.
—She would be going to the orphanage soon.
Lance Blue had also said to Grant, "Didn’t you say you would send her to an orphanage once she was a little older?"
But Grant’s answer had been, "The orphanage is better suited for her. While she’s still young, she doesn’t have much impression of us..."
"As for her only being three, the orphanage will handle it properly."
Lance Blue was puzzled by this. Grant seemed like a completely different person.
Still, it was not something Lance Blue should worry about. He decided that he would visit Cyan in the future.
......
Cyan remained quiet and spoke very little. Most of the time, she stayed in her carpeted corner of the first-floor living room, playing with puzzles, looking through picture books, or simply sitting there lost in thought.
Mrs. Zhang took good care of her, and the healthy flush a child should have gradually appeared in her face.
Sometimes Lance Blue would go downstairs and sit not far from her to read.
He did not deliberately disturb her. He simply let them share the same space.
Every now and then, Cyan would lift her head and glance at him before lowering it again.
......
But certain small things began drawing Lance Blue’s attention.
Once, Lance Blue was playing with building blocks with her. Halfway through, he needed a red block of a particular shape, but no matter how he searched through the scattered pile, he could not find it.
Just as he was about to give up, Cyan suddenly extended her hand, precisely pulled the red block from the gap between the sofa cushions, and handed it to him, her eyes as calm as ever.
The most obvious instance came one afternoon, when a strong wind suddenly rose outside and shook the clothes rack in the yard.
One of its metal supports was blown loose and toppled toward the window where Cyan was playing. Lance Blue and Yvette Grant, upstairs, both saw it.
Lance Blue was even prepared to use his abilities as a hero.
But one second before the support was about to smash into the glass, a brightly colored ball that had flown in from who knew where was caught by the wind and struck the middle of the support at just the right moment.
The impact was not strong, but it was enough to subtly alter the support’s trajectory. In the end, it fell past the window frame, leaving only a faint white mark on the glass.
Upstairs, Lance Blue and Yvette Grant exchanged a glance.
Neither Yvette Grant nor Lance Blue spoke.
He looked at Cyan downstairs on the carpet, unaware of the danger that had just passed as she lowered her head and fiddled with the ball.
..........
One evening a few days later, Grant came home with some news.
"Everything has been arranged with the orphanage."
At the dinner table, he said to Mrs. Zhang and Lance Blue, "All the procedures are complete. I went to inspect the environment, too. The director is an old friend of mine. We haven’t seen each other in a long time, but he is absolutely trustworthy. Tomorrow... I’ll take Cyan there."
Mrs. Zhang sighed and stroked the hair of the little girl quietly eating beside her. "That’s good, too. There are many children there, so it’ll be livelier. Cyan needs to be around children her own age as well."
Lance Blue looked at Cyan.
The girl was taking small bites of the steamed egg in her bowl. She seemed not to understand what the adults were talking about, and her emotions remained steady.
"The one in District 70?" Lance Blue asked.
"Mm. It isn’t far from the street where you used to live. The reconstruction plan includes a newly built children’s welfare home, and the conditions are good." Grant nodded. "When you have time... you can go visit her."
Lance Blue gave a quiet assent.
The next day, when Grant carried Cyan into the car, she did not cry or make a fuss.
She merely looked back once at Mrs. Zhang and Lance Blue, who stood at the door to see her off, then quietly turned away.
After the car drove away, the house seemed to become much quieter all at once.
Grant became even busier than before.
He no longer came home punctually for dinner every day. Sometimes he did not return until late at night, carrying the smell of smoke and exhaustion on him.
Lance Blue could feel the heavy, burning determination in Grant’s emotions growing stronger and stronger.
........
About a week after Cyan left, one afternoon before study time had begun, Grant’s home received an unexpected visitor.
When the doorbell rang, Grant was in the living room watching the news, his brow tightly furrowed.
There had recently been more reports about "competition for resources" and "public-opinion management" between Hero Offices. Although they did not directly mention the plane crash, the implications had become somewhat obvious.
Lance Blue was previewing lessons in the study, while Yvette Grant was adjusting a complicated geometric model.
Mrs. Zhang went to answer the door.
A moment later, she led a guest inside.
He was a man who looked to be around sixty, impeccably dressed and wearing gold-rimmed glasses. His golden hair was combed meticulously, and a kindly smile rested on his face.
He wore a black wool turtleneck. His gaze swept across the living room, pausing briefly on Grant before naturally shifting to Lance Blue and Yvette Grant, who had emerged from the study upon hearing the commotion. His smile deepened slightly.
"I apologize for intruding without giving advance notice." His voice was mild, carrying the unhurried composure of someone long accustomed to being in a position of authority.
Grant rose to his feet, a flash of surprise crossing his face.
"Mr. Miki? What a rare visitor. What wind has blown you to my humble home?"
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