hotmtlnovel 168-18 Family Portrait
168-18 Family Portrait
Five years have passed like flowing water, rushing on and never to return; only fallen leaves remain, and the familiar accents of home are forgotten.
Mo Shi'ao caught up with Mo Tian and insisted on taking a family photo. Sunlight streamed through the windowpane, making the fish-scale pattern on the glass gleam. "Come on, Mo Tian, it's been so long, and we haven't taken a single photo. Is this acceptable?" Mo Tian, head down, ate his meal without looking up. "Let the AI generate one. Anyway, all the information is recorded. In this advanced age, we might as well use it." Mo Shi'ao persisted, "Come on, I've already dragged you here. There's no reason to refuse. After all, this might be the only chance." Mo Tian said this, but he also got ready. After finishing their meal, they went to the door, and the group got into the car.
Mo Bei sat in the passenger seat, looking at the scenery outside the window; Mo Shi'ao sat in the driver's seat of his beloved car; Mei Qing sat in the back, taking care of the children, especially Mo Yun, whom she adored; Mo Tian sat in the back, one hand on Mo Bei's arm, the other looking at his phone.
Mo Bei gazed at the street scene: fleeting floating objects, birds soaring back to their nests, shimmering neon lights, undeterred by wind or rain, embodying the will of humanity and the will of nature. The vast plains, with their interconnected rings, were orderly, their movement and transportation dictating the journeys of all things. Bloodlines, too, were like intricately interwoven pathways; as for information, only through selective recording and revelation could a network of origin exist. Those in high positions hung high above the celestial stars; only through the clearing, execution, and termination of obstacles could cries of despair resound. And the ultimate being, the supreme computing power of Huangdu, possessed the power to filter through the world's decay and return to its end.
The car drove into the suburbs and stopped in front of one of the few buildings on land that stood out from the surrounding floating structures. It was an old shop that had existed since the early 21st century, and it was also a photo studio.
Mo Tian followed Mo Shi'ao inside, with Mo Bei following behind. As soon as Mo Shi'ao entered, the boss, who was sitting at the front desk looking at his phone, greeted him warmly: "Isn't this Old Mo?" Then he saw Mo Yun being led in by the hand. "Oh my, this little one is so cute! Little one, what's your name?" Mo Yun just stared blankly at him. Seeing this, Mo Shi'ao said, "My granddaughter, Mo Yun doesn't talk much." The boss understood, then looked a little puzzled: "Is your son Mo Tian still inventing things? That's really amazing." Mo Shi'ao gestured for him to look behind him and stepped aside. They saw Mo Tian holding a rope, with Mo Bei at the other end. He was about to run to the other side of the arbor. "Look, this is my grandson, Mo Bei. My son is trying to bring him in." The shopkeeper laughed, "Haha, your family has a little darling! Lively is good, and you also have a quiet little princess. Very good, very good." Mo Bei walked in, and Mo Shi'ao introduced, "This is the new member, Mo Bei." Mo Bei, who was looking at the photo wall, looked up and greeted him. The shopkeeper replied, "That's good too, your house is quite lively." Mo Shi'ao said, "Sigh, no one's home anymore. They all live in houses in the city center." Upon hearing this, Mo Bei replied, "I'll come when I have time." Seeing that almost everyone had arrived, the shopkeeper had them sit down in chairs, preparing for photos.
Mo Bei glanced at the passerby observing the scene the instant he pressed the shutter.
Everyone else dispersed, while Mo Shi'ao stepped forward to look at the photos. After seeing the finished product, he looked at Mo Bei, who also turned back to look at Mo Shi'ao. Then they were asked to take photos again.
This time, Mo Shi'ao sandwiched Mo Bei between them, and they took another picture. This group photo looked more perfect. In both photos, only Mo Yun remained unchanged, sitting there motionless like a delicate porcelain doll.
The boss handed out the photos, and Mo Bei took them with both hands and carefully treasured them. Then, Mo Shi'ao called him over to the nearby tree grove.
Mo Bei looked at Mo Tian, as if to say, "I said I wanted to go here, and you still won't let me." Mo Tian simply tugged on the rope, and Mo Bei had no choice but to obediently follow. This scene was witnessed by Mo Bei, who was following behind, and Mo Bei quickened his pace.
After the owner opened the gate to the tree farm, Mo Bei was the first to walk in. He looked at the area full of trees: some were already mature, some had already borne fruit, some were newly planted saplings, and some were mature trees that shaded the sky. It was an ecological park, where butterflies rested on the grass, bees stayed in the flower boxes, insects chirped and rustled, and the aroma of fruit and nectar filled the air. People moved among the hedges, their senses constantly changing. The stone steps were cluttered with shadows, and the trees were nestled under the shade of trees. Wishing bells were strung along the paths, and ants dwelt in the shade. The mossy paths were covered with seeds, a garden of ten thousand insects, a place of perfect protection.
Mo Bei walked to a tree. The tree had grown tall and was beginning to bear fruit. Looking closer, he saw a red ribbon tied to the trunk, from which hung a red brocade wishing bell. Passersby, seeing this, thought it was a veteran actor, after all, it had appeared more often than some of the key items.
Mo Bei gently lifted the wishing bell, on which hung Mo Shi'ao's youthful handwriting. Mo Bei asked, "Mo Shi'ao, is this yours?" Mo Shi'ao walked over, picked an apple from the tree, and began to eat it. "Yes." The shopkeeper said, "That fruit..." Mo Shi'ao replied, "You said you planted it for free, so we can eat it next time we take pictures." Hearing this, the shopkeeper slowly added, "It's not ripe yet." Mo Shi'ao said, "Uh, it's not sour, it's ripe, it's quite delicious, you should have one too." Only Mo Bei took one, and after eating it, his face scrunched up. You could only fool Mo Bei; the others couldn't even dream of eating it. The two of them said together, "No one taught me this when I was little! I really couldn't tell if it wasn't ripe!" Mei Qing laughed the loudest. Mo Bei, seeing this, was clamoring to eat it, but after breaking off a small piece, he was also sour and spat out the apple piece.
Mo Shi'ao found another tree, gently lifted the wind chime, and saw it inscribed: "Mo Shi Ren." Mo Bei saw Mo Shi'ao looking at the wind chime and leaned over to ask, "Who's this?" Mo Shi'ao replied indifferently, "My dad. He's been dead for a few years. He was a barber." Mo Bei probably wouldn't be able to sleep afterward; she'd have to slap herself a few times every morning.
Just then, the boss brought over a few shovels and saplings—well… actually, they were transported by robots—and said, “These are your saplings. There are mangoes, apples, and other kinds. Choose whichever you like.” The robot, carrying bells and red ribbons, slowly arrived.
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