Below the dim and hazy cloud cover, in the bright glow of the office, Zhang Ansha looked up at the woman beside him, "He Ao is looking for a Fighter?" "I’ve already forwarded the message to the Fighter," the woman spoke slowly, "It seems He Ao would like him to make a trip to the Western Lands. They must have had some interactions before." "It should have been during the previous ruins selection for achievement spots; it was not so long ago," "That was indeed recently," the woman continued softly, "It has been only a few months since He Ao left Xidu after that selection." Zhang Ansha started, seemingly lost in a brief memory, then chuckled, "It really is just two or three months. It seems to have flown by. While we are still marking time, He Ao has already become the deputy director of the field operations department and even a special advisor to the World Tree." He looked out the window at the cumulus clouds, "In such a short time, he’s done so much. Nearly every few days, you can see news of his new major accomplishments, almost to the point where I feel as if a lot of time has already passed." the woman now echoed with a sigh, nodding, "He is too dazzling." Zhang Ansha withdrew his gaze and smiled, "The first time I met him, I thought this kid was incredibly gifted and destined to achieve great things, even to enter the core circle of the Research Institute’s authority." He paused, "However, I originally thought it would take him at least ten years, or even decades, to accomplish such feats. I never imagined he would do it all in a few months." He chuckled somewhat helplessly, "It’s like the little sapling you were tending to yesterday has turned into a towering tree overnight." "Have you never seen the likes of this before?" The woman looked a bit puzzled, "Aren’t you..." "Yes, I was one of the first to establish the Research Institute," Zhang Ansha shrugged, "Back then, I also saw many geniuses, but even the most talented among them, Elder Li, took a year to go from an ordinary person to C-level, and another five years to make it from C-level to B-level." He sat down in the chair, smiling, "At that time, I called them prodigies, and they were so overwhelming that I could hardly breathe. But I never expected to truly see what is meant by the so-called ’youthful prodigies’ now." He paused for a moment, reached out to pick up a file on the desk, and looked out the window at the sky once more, letting out a soft sigh, "The more chaotic the era, the swifter it sifts out the true heroes. Heroes and their times have always been interdependent." "Yes, indeed, looking at it this way, He Ao is indeed a bit ’abnormal’," the woman replied softly. But before she could continue to reflect, she noticed Zhang Ansha’s gaze fixed on the cloud formations outside and asked, "Is there something wrong with the clouds outside?" Then she saw Zhang Ansha turn back, opening the document in his hand to flip through it, revealing one of the pages before him. It was a warrant from the headquarters of the Research Institute, targeting a C-level Transcendent codenamed ’Rain Demon.’ This Transcendent had caused quite a bloodbath in the Tia Empire and later infiltrated the Western Lands, becoming a member of the Daybreak organization of the Western Lands. During the Blood Sun incident, the Research Institute dealt a significant blow to the Daybreak in the Western Lands. After being wounded by the Institute’s Transcendents, he fled eastward. The intelligence department of the Institute indicated that he might have recently blended into Central Earth. His Supernatural Ability appeared to be control over wind and rain. "Xidu, though close to the west, is still quite far from the border," the woman said, looking at the warrant with a slight frown, "In such a short time, he couldn’t possibly have gone that far, could he?" Zhang Ansha shook his head, glanced once more at the cumulus clouds outside the window, and said softly, "One big event follows another recently. We never know when something might land on us. We need to be mindful of every detail and brace ourselves." The woman nodded emphatically. Dusk gradually deepened, and a handful of fishermen began to gather by the peaceful river, bringing their own stools or small folding chairs, casting their lines, and sitting under the tranquil night sky, watching the ripples on the water. He Ao held his fishing rod, motionless as he stared at the water’s surface, his entire figure seeming to merge completely with the night. The little boy sitting upstream was still there, periodically flicking his bamboo rod like swinging on a swing. He sat with He Ao under the night sky, looking at the water in front of him. The sky’s stars and moonlight had been entirely obscured by clouds. The darkness was eerily silent, with only the scattered chirping of insects in the grass adding a touch of liveliness. Figures carrying lanterns stumbled along the river bank; some got up to leave, while others had just settled down. The bright lantern lights, like flecks of starlight on the ground, undulated in the sky hidden by clouds, igniting a bit of brightness. As the night deepened, after an unknown amount of time, an elderly man wearing a straw hat, dressed simply, and carrying a large sack made his way through the deep night, using an old-fashioned flashlight. He walked past behind He Ao, casting the dim light of his flashlight onto the little boy upstream. He reached the little boy and stood behind him, but instead of scolding him, he quietly watched the boy fish. After a good while, the boy finally noticed that the light behind him hadn’t moved. He turned around to look at the elderly man behind him. Then he paused for a moment, holding his swaying bamboo rod, and said somewhat helplessly, "Grandpa, why can’t I catch any fish here?" "Fishing requires patience," the elderly man gently pulled out two small folding chairs from his backpack, propped one open for the boy, and then opened another for himself. He sat down next to the boy and reached out to still the boy’s continuously moving rod, "You are too eager." "But the fish just won’t bite." The boy scratched his head, lifting the fishing rod to reveal the long fishing line under the night light, with only a wet, bare hook baited with an earthworm standing still. "The less the fish bite, the more you need to wait patiently." The elderly man smiled at the boy, gently lifted him onto the chair, and then shone the flashlight over the dark water surface. The boy didn’t have a professional float; his were made by tying glow-in-the-dark stickers onto little pieces of white foam, these floats trailing along the long fishing lines. The elderly man instructed the boy to hold the rod and cast the hook back into the water. The boy watched the foam pieces that sunk into the water, blinking. Under the watchful eye of the elderly man beside him, he started to calm down and watch the floats in the water. He Ao seemed not to notice the interaction upstream, his attention solely on his rod, quietly observing the surface of the water. About half an hour later, the boy scratched his head again and handed the fishing rod to the elderly man beside him, "Grandpa, you fish. I don’t think I can catch anything; it’s so boring sitting here." The elder remained silent, offering only a smile as he took the rod and quietly sat on the river bank. His wrinkled, aged face watched ahead, as though looking at the tranquil water, and yet also seeming to gaze at the silent night sky. The boy got up from his chair, picked up a flashlight lying nearby, and moved through the grass, shining the light at the cloudy sky and then at the still water surface. Most of the time, though, he was shining the light amid the grass, searching for little insects in the vegetation. He circled several times behind the elder in the grass, seemingly growing weary from the play; then, he took out a small plastic box full of soil from his pocket and opened it in the flashlight’s beam. Some long earthworms burrowed out of the soil, then disappeared back into it. He walked over to the elderly man’s side and handed over the box, "Grandpa, it’s time to change the earthworms. Fish don’t like worms that have been soaked in water for too long." The elder smiled at him, lifted the fishing rod, slowly pulled out the hook, then carefully replaced it with a new earthworm and cast the hook back into the water. Time ticked away second by second, but still no fish took the bait. Fishermen scattered around in the night began to leave one by one, only a few persisted. The little boy sat beside the elder, with his hands propped on the ground, staring at the pitch-black river under the night sky, "Are there no fish here? Why aren’t we catching any?" "Perhaps it’s because our hearts aren’t calm enough yet, and we haven’t waited long enough." The elder held the fishing rod and replied slowly, smiling. The boy climbed up from the ground and took a seat on the small stool next to the elder, looking at him, "Grandpa, how can you sit so calmly for so long?" He shook his head, gazing at the float, "I feel so bored." "Maybe it’s because Grandpa is old?" The elder responded with a smile, "When you age, your reactions slow down, and you’re able to sit in one place for a long time." A muffled thunder sounded in the quiet, dark sky. He Ao, downstream, lifted his fishing rod, glanced at the empty hook, and cast it out again. The boy appeared to understand somewhat and nodded. He quickly forgot the question and surveyed the darkness of the night, asking softly, "Grandpa, do you just sit here and watch the float?" The elder watched the faintly glowing float in the night, holding the rod lightly, and replied gently. A gentle breeze skimmed over the serene surface of the water, rippling it. The boy blinked, sitting on the stool swinging his legs, looking around, "There seems to be nothing else here." Another muffled thunder sounded in the sky. Big raindrops began to fall pitter-patter from the night sky. The raindrops pinged melodiously as they struck the calm surface of the river. The remaining few fishermen seemed to lack rain gear; they looked up at the sky amidst the gentle showers, as if trying to guess when the rain would stop. Soon, the rain grew heavier. One person used his stool as an umbrella, fleeing in a fluster through the curtain of rain; the others also got up one by one, leaving amidst the increasingly furious downpour. He Ao rummaged through a small bag beneath his stool, pulled out a raincoat, and put it on. He then found a broad straw hat and placed it on his head. At this moment, the elder upstream hurriedly produced two large straw hats from a big bag—one for the boy and one for himself. After tying the chin straps of the hats, he pulled out two large, old raincoats, donned one, and helped the boy put on the other. A cool breeze carrying raindrops brushed He Ao’s face. He lifted the rod, looked at the empty hook, changed the bait, and cast it into the water again. Upstream, the elder, wearing a raincoat, turned to the boy beside him and asked with a smile. The boy looked at the rod in the elder’s hand, then at the quiet water surface, and shook his head, "Let’s not go back." So they continued to sit in the rain, watching the simple ’float’ being patted by raindrops. "Grandpa, can we catch a fish?" The rain dripped from the brim of the boy’s hat as he lifted his head to look at the elder beside him. "We should be able to, as long as we keep quiet." The elder spoke slowly, then paused, handed the ’rod’ to the boy with a smile, and asked, "Want to try?" After a brief hesitation, the boy reached out and took the rod, then held it, looking at the tranquil water surface. His hands wanted to swing the rod around, as if to play with it just as before, but after a short pause, he held onto the rod more tightly, sitting on the stool and watching the quiet surface. The elder sat beside the boy, quietly and smilingly observing his movements. Pitter-patter, the raindrops fell on the water, making a crisp sound, like a restless and vividly beating heart. In this sporadic rain, He Ao held his fishing rod, his gaze fixed on the rippling water. He lifted his hand slightly, wanting to raise the rod and check on the bait again, but this time, as the bamboo rod slightly lifted, he stopped, watching the ripples caused by his movement on the surface of the water. Beneath this hazy curtain of rain, an elderly and stooped figure wearing a hat emerged from behind him, sitting quietly next to him, watching him, watching him with his rod. Everything around seemed to be slowly quieting down; the fluttering float bobbed in the scattered rain, and the slight ripples caused by the young man’s lifting of the rod calmed down little by little. The world was so raucous, and yet so silent. Like a restless soul being soothed gradually. Raindrops hit the tranquil river surface, the soft soil, the lush grass blades, the rustling tree leaves. They hit the flowing breeze. Sounds that were once unnoticed became especially clear in this moment. The wind rose and the rain fell; this was the essence of nature. The flowing heart completely quieted down until the sun rose from the horizon and set from the west, the night retreated and returned, the brilliance extinguished and reborn. The gentle rain continued to fall. When the second night had fully passed, amongst the disorderly raindrops, a bright glow emerged at the end of the firmament. The roar of thunder resounded at the edge of the clouds and sky. The silent figure, fixed like a statue, raised his hand. The fishing line, weighted with a catch, was pulled from the water.