Chapter 1 01 I'm not an alien, I'm your baby human. ...

[Can Yan Xingli, a celebrity with connections, please stop making a scene? Who wants to waste time watching a wooden puppet act? I'm already annoyed at work!]

Come home, child, please come home, @Yanxingli

In a high-end residential area in City S, Yan Xingli calmly browsed through the trending negative searches about him.

The assistant beside him glanced at his face and whispered, "Brother Xing, stop looking. I've already messaged Sister Li, and the company will suppress it soon."

Yan Xingli: "I'm fine."

The assistant glanced at the wall clock and changed the subject, saying, "Brother Xing, you should get some rest. There's a very important commercial shoot early tomorrow morning, and we can't afford to miss it."

Yan Xingli, sprawled on the sofa, yawned lazily: "Okay."

"By the way, I'm on vacation next month, so you don't need to come over every day."

Assistant Xiaolin, who had just lifted his buttocks halfway up, paused, somewhat bewildered: "Brother Xing, are you going to withdraw from next month's recording of the variety show 'My Little One'?"

"What do you mean, 'my child'?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Yan Xingli understood.

He frowned unhappily. He had submitted his leave application six months ago, and the company had approved it. He never expected that they would change their minds at the last minute and give him a huge assignment.

Xiao Lin noticed something amiss from Yan Xingli's unpleasant expression.

At this moment, the working class earning 6,000 yuan a month deeply empathized with those earning six figures a month.

Xiao Lin scratched her face and gently placed her buttocks on her hips: "Brother Xing, 'My Little One' is a very popular variety show these days. Let me send you the information."

With his long-awaited holiday ruined, Yan Xingli's face was as black as the bottom of a pot: "You can go back now."

Xiao Lin ran away as if granted a pardon, adding before leaving, "The company sent Sister Li an overseas assignment yesterday, and she probably won't be back for the next two weeks."

"..."

After seeing Xiaolin off, Yan Xingli opened a bottle of red wine for himself, feeling irritated.

He has been doing various part-time jobs since college. His family is not short of money, but he is a hamster and likes to save money to fill his pockets.

He entered the entertainment industry by accident. He heard from a talent scout that he would earn 5,000 yuan for recording an episode of a boy group audition program, and that it would also include food, accommodation, and travel expenses, so he came.

Originally, he just wanted to go through the motions, but Yan Xingli managed to get voted into the debut position by a large number of fans who like to watch the excitement, thanks to his superior bone structure, decent singing voice, and always clumsy dancing.

Through group activities, recording new songs, and participating in group variety shows, the fledgling Yan Xingli gained some popularity and earned enough money to buy himself a large apartment.

Later, the company gave him another script, which received a very good response.

Yan Xingli was self-aware; he could only play minor supporting roles with few scenes and lines, preferably the white moonlight of the main character who died early.

His "white moonlight" is his comfort zone and his domain.

Unfortunately, ideals and reality often go against each other.

The company was eager to strike while the iron was hot and make quick money. After realizing that Yan Xingli was a potential star, they immediately gave him a leading role in a drama, with all the supporting actors being national treasure-level veteran actors.

His performance in the drama was analyzed and judged frame by frame, and haters flocked to his Weibo to mock his poor professional skills and tell him to get out of the entertainment industry.

Yan Xingli sat with his long legs propped up in front of the French windows, his slender fingers rubbing his temples. Now his family would definitely make him quit the entertainment industry.

How much is the penalty for breach of contract?

Yan Xingli pulled out the contract from his phone, calculated it according to the formula, and his slightly tipsy mind suddenly cleared up.

—Two hundred million in breach of contract penalties?

Yan Xingli stood up abruptly, his hand holding the phone trembling slightly.

Not only did he work for nothing for four years, but he also lost all the savings he had accumulated during his university years, returning him to square one overnight.

Yan Xingli gasped for breath in pain.

He held onto the French windows with one hand, looked up at the dark sky, and secretly believed that as long as it didn't cost him money, the believer was willing to be a vegetarian for ten years in exchange for a peaceful termination of the contract.

An inconspicuous star in the night sky twinkled.

After making her wish, Yan Xingli composed herself. Since things had come to this, she decided to take a shower first.

Taking a bath is his best way to relax. He has solved many of the problems he has encountered in life by having a sudden inspiration while lying in the bathtub.

With six long years left before the contract expired, Yan Xingli rested his chin on his hand and pondered seriously whether he could terminate the contract early and pay less penalty money if he passed the civil service exam.

The moment the thought crossed Yan Xingli's mind, he involuntarily shivered.

...Forget it, I'll just have to pay some money back.

Yan Xingli opened his phone, looked at the eight-figure balance in his bank card, and his emotions shifted several times.

A moment later, as if she had made up her mind, she got up, wrapped herself in a bathrobe, slipped on her slippers, and went back to the bedroom to find the box where the safe was stored.

A gleaming silver metal safe came into view. Yan Xingli raised his slender, pale fingers and aimed them at the buttons.

Click, the bedroom light went out.

Yan Xingli paused, looked up and surveyed the room, which was completely dark.

He looked down to turn on his flashlight, unaware that right outside the floor-to-ceiling window behind him, a tiny dot, like a star, was approaching at an imperceptible speed.

The moment the flashlight shone, a deafening explosion suddenly erupted, shaking the entire building twice.

The hard tempered glass in the bedroom shattered with a loud crash, and a gust of cold wind rushed in, violently sweeping everything inside the room.

The change came too suddenly. Before the strong and healthy Yan Xingli could react, he was blown about by the wind, lost his balance, and sat down on the ground.

He was so shocked by this turn of events that his heart almost stopped. Was it an earthquake?

Yan Xingli trembled and his mind went blank. Born in the peaceful and powerful China, he would rather believe it was an earthquake or retaliation than think of a terrorist attack.

Broken glass was scattered all over the ground, but fortunately Yan Xingli was not affected by any fragments and is not in immediate danger.

A beam of light, as bright as day, shone down, dispelling the darkness but also blinding Yan Xingli.

He awkwardly wrapped his bathrobe tighter around himself, raising his arm to shield his eyes from the bright light as he struggled to see what was in front of him.

After a few seconds, the white light gradually weakened and finally stopped stinging him and making him cry uncontrollably.

Yan Xingli lowered his arm, turned his head, and looked on in astonishment.

In the hazy dust and night, a strangely shaped aircraft with a metallic silver sheen hovered in mid-air, its shape resembling a large iron pot, much like the legendary UFO.

What is this? Are aliens finally coming to rule Earth?

Does that mean he doesn't have to pay the penalty for breach of contract?

Just as he was wondering if aliens could understand idol dramas, the spacecraft's hatch slid open with a "whoosh," revealing a wide and long slide.

Here it comes. Yan Xingli's Adam's apple bobbed. He pressed his numb calves, swayed as he straightened up, and stared intently at the thing above his head with narrowed eyes.

In the tense atmosphere, a round head poked its head out of the cabin door, looked around for a while, and then hopped to the doorway.

Yan Xingli vaguely heard the soft cheers of children, and then the little alien sat down at the bottom of the slide and slid down with a whoosh.

Yan Xingli quickly distanced himself, pressing himself against the wall and barely daring to breathe.

"Ancestor!"

The little alien sprinted along on its short legs, spreading its arms wide and shouting, "Fishfish is here to protect you!"

Yan Xingli: "...Huh?"

His thigh tightened, clearly he was being hugged. He looked down and stared straight into a pair of bright, large eyes.

Yan Xingli was quite surprised when he saw the little thing clearly.

—Why does this little alien look just like an Earth child?

Eyes are eyes, and noses are noses.

Yan Xingli frowned and gave his leg a slight shake, but didn't shake the person off.

So he put on a serious face and carefully poked the back of the little alien's hand with his finger.

It's soft and fluffy, and feels like a freshly steamed meat bun.

It was alive, not a cold-blooded creature; Yan Xingli secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He bent down and unceremoniously lifted the little alien who was clinging to his leg:

"Where did you come from, alien?"

What are you planning?

It seems like this alien race hasn't read many books, yet they sent a lowly scout.

The little alien stared with its big, dark eyes and said something astonishing: "I'm not an alien, I'm a baby human, and you're my ancestor."

Banquet Star Ceremony: ...

"Don't be afraid."

The little alien, suspended in mid-air, raised its smiling face, like a good-natured puppy, and stretched out a chubby little hand, saying in a friendly and familiar manner:

"Hello, Ancestor. My name is Qi Youyu. I'm a very capable scientist. I'm here to protect you."

Yan Xingli stood there without saying a word.

He quietly put the child down, crossed his arms, and listened to her chatter for ten minutes, figuring out the general outline of what had happened.

This little alien named Qi Youyu has quite a background; she claims to be his descendant from the planet Cang'ai, three hundred years in the future.

Planet Cang'ai is a new planet that humans migrated to and settled on after Earth's destruction. It has even richer resources for survival than Earth, and its technology is far more advanced than it is now.

And that huge iron pot that almost blinded him was the legendary time-space spaceship.

Three-and-a-half-year-old Qi Youyu piloted the time-space spaceship alone, and after seven hours, arrived at his ancestor's house.

As for her muttering about protecting him, Yan Xingli didn't take it to heart at all.

His mind was in a mess.

On one hand, he suspected that he had been set up, but on the other hand, he felt it was impossible, as the aircraft above him was clearly a cutting-edge technological product.

If they had that technology, they would have been secretly recruited by the state long ago; how could they possibly flaunt it so openly?

The little guy, who was new to the place, was not shy at all. He strolled around with his hands behind his back as if he were at home, sighing and frowning from time to time.

"Grandpa, your house is so small."

Are you a little bit poor?

"Oh, the house is such a mess, and the wind is so strong."

Yan Xingli glanced at him sideways with a languid expression: "Who is this all because of?"

Did he not install windows?

Did he not install underfloor heating?

The child, pretending not to understand, scratched his head and tiptoed over, saying, "Grandpa..."

"Don't call me ancestor."

Yan Xingli found it awkward to listen to.

He was just twenty-five years old, a virgin who had remained chaste and self-respecting, yet he was being called "ancestor" by a child, giving him a sense of absurdity as if he already had a large family and was about to be buried.

Seeing Yan Xingli's face full of resistance, Qi Youyu thought for a moment, then raised her little head and shouted:

"Yes, Grandpa!"

Yan Xingli's body trembled.

He puffed out his cheeks, and after a long while, he managed to squeeze out a sentence through gritted teeth: "Calling me grandpa won't do any good."

"Look what you've done."

He put his left hand on his hip and pointed with his right hand at the mess on the ground, becoming increasingly angry as he spoke:

"My bedroom was perfectly fine, who asked you to turn it into a Syrian war-damaged style? Did I say I wanted that? Do you know how much this panoramic floor-to-ceiling window cost?"

He'd only lived in this house for a year, and it'd already been ruined by that little alien. It was heartbreaking.

Faced with Yan Xingli's barrage of questions, the child lowered his head, clutching the hem of his clothes, and remained silent.

I guess he was scared.

Yan Xingli pursed her lips, helplessly turning her gaze away. Why bother arguing with the little alien about this? She didn't have the money to pay for it.

Just accept your bad luck.

"Auntie, don't be angry, Yu Yu will take responsibility."

?

who? ? ?

Before Yan Xingli could recover from being called "auntie," another scene that shattered his worldview occurred: the broken glass on the ground seemed to have been rewound and automatically pieced together, leaving the entire floor-to-ceiling window intact.

He had only ever seen such a scene in TV dramas.

Qi Youyu ran to Yan Xingli's legs, rubbing her little hands together and asked, "Is this okay?"

"...You...you know magic?" Yan Xingli swallowed hard, his eyes clearing. "You wouldn't happen to be a little celestial being who has descended to the mortal realm to undergo tribulation, would you?"

The child blinked and said, "Sorry, I can't quite understand."

This is too big a deal for him to handle. Yan Xingli hurriedly ran to the living room to grab his phone, muttering to himself:

"That's right. If you're in trouble, just call the police and hand the person over to them."

The little tail trailing behind him jumped up and clung tightly to his leg in protest: "No, don't call the police."

"I'm not going anywhere, I'm going to stay with you."

"You think I can get away with this just because I didn't call the police?" Yan Xingli, looking exasperated, patiently explained, "With the earthquake-like commotion you just made, who could possibly be fooled? The police will be coming to our door soon."

Qi Youyu shook her round head vigorously, trying to explain, "No, the Little Fish has a super powerful protective shield. No one can see or hear it. You'll see if you don't believe me."

Yan Xingli looked up in the direction the child was pointing, and the large iron pot that had been following them above their heads had disappeared.

It's truly high-tech... it can even turn invisible.

Thinking about it carefully, it makes sense. For such a time-space spaceship to be able to break into his home as if it were an empty place, it must have an extremely strong signal jamming capability. Otherwise, the national air defense department would have detected and intercepted it long ago.

However, Yan Xingli bent down and patted the child's head: "Even so, I can't keep you by my side. First, I don't know how to take care of children, and second, you're an alien, so I can't take you in."

Qi Youyu stamped her foot in frustration: "I'm not an alien, I'm your baby's baby's baby!"

Before Yan Xingli could speak, the child waved his little hand, and a transparent holographic screen appeared in front of the two of them.

Qi Youyu swiped quickly, and a complex family tree diagram popped up on the screen. The name at the very top was Yan Xingli, and images of him from childhood to adulthood began to play frame by frame.

When the screen showed Yan Xingli wetting the bed at age three and then openly framing his father, he couldn't hold back anymore.

"Hey, stop, stop! I believe you're my descendant now."

The three-headed child smiled, stood on tiptoe, grasped one of his fingers, and said earnestly:

"Grandma... I'll take good care of you."

Yan Xingli looked completely numb.

Even after being dead for three hundred years, they can still dig up his dark history and restore it to high definition. Apart from his unfilial and rebellious descendants, it's hard to find another group that would "take care" of him like this.

A note from the author:

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I've started a new story! Yay!