After a while, the rain outside eased, leaving only the occasional drip from the eaves, tapping a crisp aftersound onto the blue stone pavement.
Sunlight broke through the clouds. It filtered through the lattice window and spilled soft patches of light across the shop.
Xiaoyu had stopped crying, though her eyes were still a little red.
She carefully set Bruce-1 down on the floor. The little mechanical dog rubbed gently against her and hummed faintly.
"Yichen big brother…"
She stood, faced the direction of his voice, and bowed deeply.
"Thank you for the warm milk. And… Bruce. The rain has stopped. I should go."
Yichen looked at her. He didn't want her to leave—not at all—but he respected her decision.
He crouched and placed the oil-paper umbrella into Bruce's mouth.
"Take the umbrella. It might rain again. Be careful on the way back—let Bruce watch the road for you."
He lowered himself until they were eye-level.
"Remember: this place will always welcome you. If you ever run into trouble—anything you need—come back and find me, alright?"
Xiaoyu nodded hard. In those empty eyes, it was as if a little light had appeared, just from being promised something so simple.
"Mm. I'll remember. Goodbye, Yichen big brother."
Yichen walked her to the door. She tapped her cane more confidently now. Bruce-1 kept close at her feet, occasionally emitting a soft guiding tone to help her avoid shallow puddles.
One small figure, one smaller companion—gradually they blended into Changle Tian's post-rain street life, which had begun to bustle again, until they disappeared into the flow of people.
Yichen stood at the entrance of "Yichen Will Handle It," staring at the now-empty corner for a long time.
The shop still seemed to hold the sweet scent of warm milk—and the faint chill of rain that clung to the child like memory.
He sighed, closed the door, and shut the outside world's noise away.
Quiet returned.
But now the quiet carried a thread of worry he couldn't name.
He sat back down, unconsciously rubbing the smooth surface of the jade terminal. The jokey comments on the screen suddenly felt tasteless.
Days later, on a sunny afternoon, Xiaoyu walked slowly down a quieter alley, cane in hand.
Bruce-1 padded along at her feet, metal claws tapping a neat rhythm on stone: tap, tap, tap.
That calm shattered under a burst of loud, sneering voices.
"Hey, look who it is! That blind little brat!"
Three half-grown kids stepped out from the alley mouth and blocked Xiaoyu's path. Their faces wore the smug, ugly delight of people who enjoyed bullying the weak.
"So she brought a little metal lump today? What's it even for?"
The tallest boy laughed and swung his foot toward Bruce-1.
Xiaoyu recognized the voices instantly. Her body stiffened. She retreated a small step, gripping her cane until her knuckles whitened, fear and helplessness rising on her face.
She'd been through this too many times.
Just as the boy's foot was about to connect—
BZZZ—!
A low, powerful hum burst from Bruce-1's body.
Then, amid a blur of mechanical transformation—whirring parts, snapping modules, reshaping plates—the palm-sized puppy expanded, rapidly stretching and swelling like it was being assembled in fast-forward.
In the space of a blink, a half-man-tall mechanical hound stood between Xiaoyu and the three bullies—its body plated in dark alloy armor, its joints pulsing with dangerous red light.
It lowered itself slightly, sensors locking onto targets.
The calm blue glow in its eyes bled into a terrifying crimson.
A continuous growl rumbled from its throat—like an engine roaring at idle—while rows of metal fangs flashed cold light.
A heavy shadow swallowed the three boys whole.
The boy with his foot raised let out a strangled yelp, leg frozen midair, his entire body locked in place like he'd been nailed down.
Behind him, the other two turned white as paper, legs shaking so hard they nearly collapsed. One of them outright fell onto his backside.
"Mon… monster!"
Someone screamed. The three of them snapped and fled—scrambling, tripping, crawling—desperate to escape, not daring to look back. Their terrified shrieks echoed down the alley.
With the threat gone, the giant mechanical hound's red glow faded quickly, returning to a peaceful blue.
It turned around. The massive body moved with surprising delicacy, lowering its cold metal head and nuzzling—very gently—against the hand gripping Xiaoyu's cane.
It released a soft, comforting whine, completely different from the beast that had just terrified three kids into running for their lives.
Xiaoyu recovered from her shock. She couldn't see what happened, but she'd heard everything: the transformation, the roar, the panicked screams as the bullies ran.
Her trembling hand loosened on the cane. Slowly, she reached out and placed her palm on Bruce's much larger head, feeling the cool metal and the steady vibration of a machine running strong.
Fear drained away—replaced by a kind of safety she'd never known.
"Bru… Bruce… thank you… thank you for protecting me…"
The mechanical hound stayed still, letting her hold on. Its tail swayed lightly, sweeping a few fallen leaves across the ground.
A few days later—whether because those kids ran to their parents, or because Bruce-1's extraordinary capabilities couldn't stay hidden—the Diheng Commission clerk, while sorting through routine street reports, flagged the incident.
Soon, several plainclothes investigators began appearing near "Yichen Will Handle It."
They disguised themselves as pedestrians and merchants. Their movements were professional. But the way their eyes lingered too long, and the scanning devices hidden under "ordinary" items—none of it escaped Yichen's perception.
He kept his daily rhythm: tea, books, and occasionally tinkering with the shop's "ordinary-looking" little objects.
Through the bright storefront window, he could see the investigators pretending to browse across the street, or leaning on railings as if "resting."
Sometimes, when rain drifted down, he would even open the door and greet those soaked "passersby" warmly.
"Friends outside—rain's heavy. Come in and have some hot tea to warm up."
Caught so cleanly, the investigators exchanged looks, then finally swallowed their pride and walked into the shop.
Yichen treated them to the same warm milk he'd made for Xiaoyu—his smile clean, his demeanor open.
They tried to probe him indirectly; Yichen just chatted about local customs, travel anecdotes, and the flavor of life on the Luofu. As for Bruce-1's origins, he blurred it into "a little hometown craft," and "a friendship sponsorship from the Big Dog Chew Club."
After several rounds, the Diheng Commission reports slowly gained lines like:
"Target Yichen is mild-mannered, courteous, and displays no dangerous speech or behavior."
"Origin of mechanical hound technology remains unclear; preliminary assessment suggests it is an offworlder's proprietary tech. Primary purpose appears to be assisting a blind child; categorized as a chivalrous act."
"Target stated: 'If technology cannot bring convenience to others, it is no different from a stone.' His casual gifting of such a device to an orphan shows notable generosity."
"Overall assessment: no evidence at present that target poses a threat to Luofu security. Additionally, target's online reputation differs severely from on-site observation; suspected malicious meme distortion or information contamination; further verification recommended."
A few days later, within the Seat of Divine Foresight.
General Jing Yuan held the report and read through it with amused interest.
When he reached the sections describing Bruce-1's technology—far beyond Luofu standards—and the attached footage, his relaxed brows lifted slightly. He tapped the image of the vivid mechanical creation with one finger.
"A casual gift to a lone orphan, and it can display such presence… The 'Big Dog Chew Club'? Never heard of it."
He murmured, a smile curling at his lips.
"Enough paperwork. Time to stretch a bit. Tomorrow, I'll visit this 'Yichen Will Handle It' myself—and see what kind of person can stir up ripples like this in Luofu."