PTGWD Chapter 94: Evolution

Fang Xingzhou’s brows twitched slightly, as if he were murmuring something. Lu Jianchuan leaned in lower, gently rubbing the spot between his brows, then sealing his lips with a kiss.

Fang Yanzhou tilted its head left and right, unable to comprehend what its fathers were doing.

Mischief…?

So… is this punishment?

It stared at the place where the eyeball had vanished, then intently watched as its fathers kissed. Suddenly, it remembered—it had secretly played with Dad’s phone earlier!

A wave of dread washed over it.

Immediately, its tentacles flailed wildly as it turned and fled the bedroom, desperate to escape before Lu Jianchuan could catch it and—like its human father—be swallowed whole, starting from its mouth.

It sprinted down the hallway like an Olympic sprinter, but before it could leap onto the stairs, a thick tentacle silently blocked its path.

Panicked, Fang Yanzhou swerved, trying to dart into a nearby vase.

Lu Jianchuan easily caught it, lifting it up to eye level.

Fang Yanzhou noticed that its father’s lips were slightly red and still wet—had he eaten Fang Xingzhou’s mouth?! It let out a terrified wail, only to be instantly silenced as a tentacle pinched its vocal cords shut.

Lu Jianchuan raised a brow. “Hush. Your father is sleeping.”

Fang Yanzhou: “Mm-mmm—mmmph, mmm!”

Lu Jianchuan carried it from the bedroom to the living room, casually knotting one of its tentacles around his neck. He patted its jellyfish cap. “Why the hurry? hungry?”

Fang Yanzhou nervously eyed his father’s teeth and mouth, curling into a tight ball, too scared to speak.

This was Lu Jianchuan’s first time truly raising a child, and he couldn’t begin to guess what went on inside the little jellyfish’s transparent head. So, he opted for the most direct method—probing Fang Yanzhou’s mind with his divine power.

Fang Yanzhou: “…”

Five seconds of tense silence passed. The little jellyfish glowered at him, resentment simmering but unwilling to speak up. Finally, it couldn’t resist a small, defiant nip at its father’s neck.

Then, it watched as Lu Jianchuan’s eyebrows climbed higher and higher, a peculiar smile curling at the corners of his lips. Instead of punishing it with a tentacle lashing or swallowing it whole, he merely chuckled softly and pinched its jellyfish cap.

“So cute, Tangtang.”

Fang Yanzhou: “?”

Lu Jianchuan prepared a bottle of formula, deftly inserting the nipple into one of its many oral cavities before yawning. “Stop overthinking. Eat up—I want to go cuddle with Zhouzhou.”

Fang Yanzhou gulped down the milk with loud glug-glug noises, all while casting disbelieving side-eyes at its father’s profile.

Lu Jianchuan still seemed displeased, but the anger from earlier had largely faded.

Fang Yanzhou nuzzled his cheek tentatively. “Mischief… not mad?”

“Mischief?” Lu Jianchuan sank into an armchair, propping his chin in his palm. “You mean finishing three years’ worth of schoolwork in one go, then calling your grandma and uncles? That’s not mischief—I wouldn’t be mad at you, sweetheart.”

His voice was gentle, but then he leaned in, breath ghosting over Fang Yanzhou’s cap.

“But if you help your Zhou Dad keep secrets from me again,” he murmured, tone sweet as syrup yet laced with something sharper, “I will be angry. So angry, in fact, that I’ll turn you into a rose and stick you in a vase. Understand?”

Fang Yanzhou jolted violently, its terrified gaze darting to the vase by the doorway. It let out a flurry of whimpers, nodding and shaking its head simultaneously, as if swearing such a thing would never happen again.

Lu Jianchuan gave it a satisfied kiss, then carried it to the bathroom once the bottle was empty.

With ten tentacles sprouting from his body, he grabbed ten toothbrushes and efficiently scrubbed Fang Yanzhou’s ten oral cavities, finishing the entire cleaning routine in record time.

“Ah, right.” Just before carrying the freshly polished jellyfish back to the bedroom, something occurred to him. “Poor Qin Hongbo.”

Fang Yanzhou: “?”

Qin Hongbo lived nearby. Lu Jianchuan tucked the baby jelly under his arm and arrived at his colleague’s apartment in five minutes flat. Leaping from the 32nd floor, he landed soundlessly outside the bedroom window.

Inside, Qin Hongbo lay sprawled on the bed, blood trickling from his eyes, his phone still clutched in hand—unconscious.

Fang Yanzhou: “!!!”

Realization dawned. Guilt and remorse hit it like a tidal wave. Glowing, translucent droplets welled up on its cap.

Lu Jianchuan flicked its head lightly and shook his own. Slipping inside, he deleted the photos from Qin Hongbo’s phone, wiped the man’s memories, and healed his damaged eyes—now Qin Hongbo would simply assume he’d suffered a nightmare.

The man stirred, on the verge of waking.

Lu Jianchuan slipped back out, carefully shutting the window behind him.

On the way home, Fang Yanzhou drooped, tentacles twisting listlessly like coiled rope. One by one, it counted: “Grandpa, Grandma, Uncle Li, Uncle Yan…”

Lu Jianchuan reassured it, “They’re fine. Grandma and Grandpa’s eyes were modified a long time ago—they’re stronger than most people. As for Uncle Li and Uncle Yan, they know how to handle things.”

Fang Yanzhou remained somber.

“Different,” it whispered, “Head, eyes… different. Uncle, hate?”

Hearing these fragmented words, Lu Jianchuan’s monstrous heart softened unexpectedly.

He remembered—how long ago had it been?—when he first entered Fang Xingzhou’s home, he, too, would secretly study his reflection in the mirror at night, desperately searching for even the slightest trace of humanity.

And now… he could flawlessly pass as human, even raising a hybrid child of his own.

He cradled Fang Yanzhou against his chest, pressing a tender kiss to its crown.

“No one will hate you. You can be human—openly and proudly. Soon, you’ll have two eyes, a nose, and a mouth… if you want.”

Fang Yanzhou blinked at its father, comprehension still hazy but obedient nonetheless. “Mm!”

Lu Jianchuan smiled.

Beneath the gentle moonlight, their path home seemed bathed in silver. Eager to reunite with Fang Xingzhou, Lu Jianchuan arrived at Xiangxing Street in no time—so impatient that he bypassed the door entirely, leaping straight through the bedroom window instead.

Fang Xingzhou lay sound asleep, half his face touched by the moon’s glow, resembling a masterpiece painted in cool tones.

Lu Jianchuan’s smile deepened as he carefully placed their one-day-old child beside his lover’s pillow. Shedding his coat, he climbed soundlessly into bed, wrapping Fang Xingzhou tightly in his embrace—with Fang Yanzhou nearly squished between them.

He kissed Fang Xingzhou first, then the flattened little jellyfish.

“Goodnight,” he murmured. “My big and little treasure.”

Fang Yanzhou, too, was drowsy. Its dozens of eyes slowly closed. “Goodnight… Daddy.”

A tentacle slipped from beneath the blankets to draw the curtains shut and switch off the lamp.

The room was enveloped in cozy darkness.

In that darkness, the lingering scent of their earlier intimacy clung to Fang Xingzhou’s skin—so intense it became a tangible bliss. Content, Lu Jianchuan closed his eyes and sank into sweet dreams.

———

The next morning marked the end of Fang Xingzhou’s leave.

He bundled himself up, hiding every mark on his skin, his voice too hoarse to form words. Before leaving for work, he kissed the big monster and the little one, barely managing a single rasped syllable: “Be good.”

Father and child wore identical pitiful expressions as they watched him go.

The moment the door closed, Fang Yanzhou burst into tears. Five minutes in, Lu Jianchuan finally caved.

His eyes gleamed—almost cheerfully—as if seizing a perfectly justified excuse. “Baby, look how upset you are, I suppose we have to go spy on Zhouzhou at work!”

Fang Yanzhou had been waiting precisely for this. The tears halted instantly, as though the sun had broken through storm clouds. “Yes! Have to! Spy!”

With a bottle, towel, binoculars, and jellyfish in tow, Lu Jianchuan whistled a jaunty tune all the way to the mall rooftop opposite the hospital, resuming his long-established routine of covert observation.

While Fang Xingzhou worked, the two monsters kept vigil across the street—waiting until his shift ended before rushing back to fake a perfectly productive day at home.

After two days of devoted surveillance, Li Xuan arrived with a full set of documents: birth certificate, ID card, and household registration.

From that moment, the little monster was officially—and legally—a native of City C.

With the birth certificate in hand, Fang Xingzhou finally took paternity leave, returning home to help Lu Jianchuan prepare the full-month celebration.

Before his leave officially began, he distributed invitations to all his close colleagues, accepting their well-wishes under a barrage of poorly concealed curiosity. Accompanied by Lu Jianchuan, they rode the elevator down to the parking garage.

Fang Yanzhou, who had been waiting in the car for ages, spotted its father from afar and immediately shot through the window gap like a tiny cannonball, barreling straight into Fang Xingzhou’s arms.

Just two days apart—with barely half that time spent together—felt like an eternity to the newly hatched jellyfish.

Fang Xingzhou sat in the passenger seat with Fang Yanzhou cradled in his lap, smiling as he kissed its round jellyfish cap. “Tangtang’s gotten chubbier—like a little ball now.”

He turned and found the big jellyfish watching him intently from the driver’s seat.

Fang Xingzhou blinked in surprise—then softened, leaning over to kiss his partner’s cheek. “Thank you for taking care of our baby.”

Only then did Lu Jianchuan smile, wrapping a tentacle around his lover’s waist while four others deftly controlled the car. “Honey,” he said conspiratorially, “our child evolved today.”

Fang Xingzhou glanced at Fang Yanzhou. “Oh?”

Fang Yanzhou wriggled excitedly. “Evolved!”

It stretched its tentacles and hopped onto the dashboard, eager to demonstrate. “Daddy, watch!”

Fang Xingzhou focused on it, giving his full attention. “Alright.”

Encouraged, Fang Yanzhou began its transformation. Its cap strained outward—expanding, expanding—until it reached the rough size of half a baby’s head. When it couldn’t stretch further, it settled for reshaping the cap bit by bit: sculpting eyes, a nose, lips, ears, hair…

Midway, it realized the head wasn’t perfectly round—the back was oddly flat—so it painstakingly adjusted, refining until ten minutes later, it had formed a flawless miniature human infant’s face: plump, rosy lips, luminous eyes, skin like delicate porcelain—almost a perfect replica of Fang Xingzhou in miniature.

Its lower half, however, remained stubbornly jellyfish—its tentacles struggling to support the weight of its new oversized head. Stumbling awkwardly, it wobbled back into Fang Xingzhou’s arms, winding its tentacles tightly around his wrist as it gazed up at him. Its newly formed vocal cords buzzed in anticipation:

“Daddy, am I cute?”

Fang Xingzhou stared, momentarily speechless.

Perhaps because Lu Jianchuan lacked true human genes, the baby’s face bore no trace of him at all.

A faint wistfulness flickered in Fang Xingzhou’s chest—but he masked it deftly, lifting the half-human, half-jellyfish child with a warm smile. “Very cute, Tangtang.”

Fang Yanzhou chirped: “Full-month banquet!”

Fang Xingzhou guided patiently. “Banquet? You want to go like this?”

It nodded emphatically, its newly formed mouth moving carefully. “Banquet! Like uncles! They scared… eyes bleed. No good.”

Fang Xingzhou pieced it together. “You want to attend in human form, so the uncles won’t be frightened or have their eyes bleed?”

Fang Yanzhou: “Mm-mm!”

“Tangtang, repeat what I just said.”

The little one concentrated, mimicking its father’s phrasing until it reconstructed the sentence properly.

Fang Xingzhou praised, “Well done. The banquet’s the day after tomorrow—you’ve got two days to practice with your tentacles.”

Fang Yanzhou tried to peer down at its limbs—but its heavy, neckless head sent it toppling forward. Fang Xingzhou caught it swiftly.

“Hands! Feet!” It flailed its nubs in distress. “Belly…”

Fang Xingzhou soothed, “No rush.”

Stress made its words garble again: “Uncles, grandma, aunties—they don’t like. I need hands—”

Cupping its tiny face, Fang Xingzhou brought its gaze level with his own.

“No one could ever dislike you,” he said, firm and unwavering. “You’re the most extraordinary being in this world.”

Fang Yanzhou stared—seeing its own peculiar reflection swimming in its father’s pupils.

Finally, it nodded fiercely. “Mm!”

From the driver’s seat came a quiet chuckle.

The near-identical father-and-child duo turned in unison.

Lu Jianchuan kept two eyes on the road—but a third had surfaced on his right cheek, fixed unblinkingly on his lover and their child.

“What is it, Deer?” Fang Xingzhou brushed a fingertip over the extra eye.

Lu Jianchuan inhaled deeply, lids half-lowering as he murmured—almost dreamily—”Don’t know why… but I feel so happy, darling.”

Fang Xingzhou squeezed the tentacle at his waist, smirking. “Want a second child?”

Four simple words—and Lu Jianchuan’s blissful expression vanished.

His face hardened with unprecedented solemnity.

“No.” Each syllable was strong as a hammer strike. “Never. Again.”