Chapter Forty: Fulfillment

Gao Ning was at a loss whether to laugh or cry—what kind of logic was this?

“Enough, I’ll make the decision on this. Quit your job right away and come home for a while. We’ll talk about everything else later!” His mother slapped the table decisively, issuing her command with great flourish. Gao Ning nodded in compliance.

He didn’t dare admit that he had already resigned before coming home.

At that moment, his father entered with the tea master, who replaced the old pot with a fresh brew of premium Huangshan Maofeng tea.

Watching the tea master lay out the exquisite tea set piece by piece, brewing, rinsing, and serving each cup with elegant, deliberate motions, Gao Ning felt a sense of tranquility.

Once everything was ready, his father brought over a small cup, took a delicate sip, nodded with satisfaction, and placed it in front of Gao Ning.

Gao Ning glanced at his father.

“Drink up,” his father said. “This Huangshan Maofeng, also known as Taiping Monkey King, may taste a little bitter, but it calms the mind, soothes the nerves, dispels heat, and clears the meridians. It’s good for you.”

Seeing the meaningful look in his father’s eyes, Gao Ning was filled with guilt. So the old man had seen through him after all.

He lifted the cup and drank it in one go—the tea was indeed slightly bitter, with a unique taste.

Yet as the warmth spread within him, Gao Ning’s spirits lightened, as if the shadows in his heart had been swept away by sunlight.

Truly, no matter the time, parents are always a child’s strongest support.

As Gao Ning was musing on this, he noticed his father was already whispering and laughing with his mother.

The two of them, married for years, still as sweet as newlyweds—no wonder his father was so opposed to blind dates.

After all, their own love had blossomed freely.

The family chatted for a while before each went their separate ways—Gao Ning back home, his parents returning to the supermarket to keep watch.

Though they mostly just did the accounts or checked inventory—tasks handled by their staff for the most part—they both enjoyed spending their days in the store. Unless they were traveling or truly feeling lazy, nothing would keep them away.

As Gao Ning entered his building, he ran into three women in cleaning uniforms coming downstairs. Seeing their tools and garbage bags, he immediately knew they’d just been cleaning his place.

So much for not touching my game console, he thought.

Going upstairs and unlocking the door, he found his home transformed—everything was spotless and in perfect order.

He ran a finger along the floor—no trace of dust.

Definitely just cleaned.

He tossed his suitcase aside, changed into slippers, and headed straight to his room.

Throwing himself onto his spacious double bed, Gao Ning finally relaxed.

He was home at last.

Glancing at the time, he noted that there were fifteen minutes left until six hours had passed.

Time currency was precious. Since he’d already seen his parents, Gao Ning didn’t intend to waste any more of it.

After all, once he left, time in the real world would stand still—he wouldn’t miss a thing.

As he breathed in the fresh scent of his sheets, he murmured to himself, “Mysterious train, request return.”

The world blurred, and in the next instant, Gao Ning was back in the train carriage.

Behind him, the exclusive compartment door and the little dials representing different rooms had vanished—his entry and exit counted as one rest, and he’d have to go through the next world before returning.

He straightened his clothes—his loose loungewear had already shifted into a tailcoat. He had four hours and fifteen minutes of time currency left.

There was just over an hour remaining to input the special template.

No time to hesitate. Only one choice remained.

Gao Ning’s eyes grew resolute.

“Input special template—target: myself!”

On the Red Alert interface, the special template vibrated slightly; the blurry figure sharpened into his own image, dressed in a light purple tailcoat.

The paratrooper countdown was, as always, ten hours; only one special template could exist at a time.

Watching the countdown icon, Gao Ning shook his head.

“Didn’t catch Jackie Chan, but ended up making a clone of myself. The world is full of surprises.”

He stepped out of the small garden. The scenery outside the carriage windows had changed again.

The Antarctic ice fields had become a rural village, smoke curling from chimneys, green fields—a scene reminiscent of southern waterside pavilions.

The African grassland now showed city towers, the vantage point high, with ant-like figures moving along the distant streets.

It seemed the train was now connected to a high-speed railway or a city line.

He didn’t linger. Passing through the communal kitchen, he went straight to the lounge.

Granny Liu and Liang Bing were already there, having changed clothes.

From the smiles at the corners of their lips, it was clear they too had just returned from the real world, likely having seen their families.

“Xiao Gao, you’re back! So, did you get to see your family?” Granny Liu smiled as she set down a plate of mango pudding in front of him.

Gao Ning eyed the dessert curiously. Liang Bing was eating silently, her usual icy demeanor softened by a rare blush on her cheeks.

Clearly, she was thoroughly enjoying it.

“Yes, I saw my parents. They’re doing well,” said Gao Ning.

“That’s good! No need to say more. For people like us, there’s no guarantee of tomorrow. It’s not that we don’t trust them, but the fewer people who know about these things, the better.

Of course, if there’s any restriction from the train, we couldn’t say anything even if we wanted to.”

Granny Liu shook her head and continued, “Returning home to see family is just a form of psychological comfort—a reminder that we still have loved ones in the real world. Here, it’s only adventure.”

Gao Ning nodded, picked up the delicate silver spoon, and took a bite of mango pudding. A coolness spread through him.

Seeing his reaction, Liang Bing, for once, allowed herself a faint smile. “Well? Delicious, isn’t it?”

Gao Ning could only nod, too busy savoring the taste for words.

He couldn’t imagine how the mango pudding was made—it was so rich, pure, and extraordinary.

Though it was just pudding, it tasted better than eating pure mango. The proportions, the technique—Gao Ning couldn’t fathom them.

Liang Bing gave a satisfied little hum. “As long as it’s good. It was worth flying all the way to Japan and paying double to have dessert master Tokusai Demura make it himself!”

Gao Ning’s eyes widened.

Granny Liu smiled. “Don’t be surprised. After you’ve traveled through a few more worlds, things like this won’t faze you.

For us, the real world is our true rear base. Beyond having family to anchor our hearts, seeking out the world’s finest cuisine is also one of our pursuits.

After all, aboard the mysterious train, once you’ve tasted a flavor, you can replicate it perfectly.

Spending money to pursue culinary perfection is a hobby well worth maintaining for us.”

Gao Ning reflected and had to agree—Granny Liu was right.

To world travelers, money was as worthless as scrap paper.

Given the chance, a single pause in time could grant a lifetime’s wealth.

Pursuing the pleasures of taste didn’t seem unreasonable at all.