Chapter 254

Zhao Jianguo carried the triplets back to the Siheyuan when the sky just began to light.

Zhao Chen leaned on his shoulder, eyelids heavy and unable to lift. Just now in the science and technology exhibition area, his mouth kept spouting English sentences, which had stopped, but his little face was still flushed, palms slightly sweaty. Zhao Jianguo gently patted his back, saying nothing all the way.

After entering the room, he put the child on the recliner and casually pulled a thin blanket over. Su Qing brought warm water, touched Zhao Chen's forehead, frowned: "Still a bit warm."

"It's fine, just tired." Zhao Jianguo took the cup and brought it to the child's lips, "Just sleep and you'll be fine."

Zhao Xing and Zhao Yang sat on the small stool beside, eyes half-open, also exhausted. Zhao Jianguo told them to lie on the bed in the inner room for a while; they staggered a few steps, fell onto the bed and lay still.

The room fell silent.

On the wall of the Main Hall hung a replica of Along the River During the Qingming Festival, a welfare item distributed by the cultural center last year; the paper had yellowed slightly, and a small tear in the lower right corner was taped with clear adhesive. Zhao Jianguo had never bothered to replace it, and no one really examined it closely.

But just as he turned to pour water, Zhao Chen on the recliner suddenly sat up.

The movement was slow, as if he were sleepwalking.

Barefoot, he stepped onto the floor and walked step by step to the wall, raising his small hand to press against the painting.

Zhao Jianguo turned back and saw this scene, about to call out, when a golden light suddenly flashed before his eyes.

【Detected historical-grade artifact; activate cultural protection specialization? Recommended to enable, bio-field match 91.3%】

The system prompt flashed by, and before he could react, Zhao Chen's palm was already pressed tight against the canvas.

Only see that the tear previously taped began to move on its own.

The fibers, as if alive, gathered toward the center; the tape peeled off automatically and fell to the ground. The picture's colors brightened bit by bit, the formerly dim street scene becoming vivid, even the wrinkles on the faces of the peddlers carrying poles in the painting becoming clearly visible.

The whole process took less than ten seconds.

After the painting finished, Zhao Chen swayed, almost falling; Zhao Jianguo rushed over and caught him, discovering he had a fever again.

"What's going on…" he muttered softly, holding the child back to the recliner.

Just as he sat down, a loud voice came from the courtyard gate: "Zhao Jianguo! Open the door! I've brought you a treasure!"

It was Sha Zhu.

As the door opened, Sha Zhu thrust forward a gleaming, oil-roasted duck, full of pride: "Quick look! The city's first future-style roasted duck!"

Zhao Jianguo glanced: "Again testing our new materials?"

"Exactly!" Sha Zhu slapped the duck onto the table, "The film you gave me, I wrapped it under the duck skin; roasted, it's crisp outside, tender inside, and stays firm for three days! Just out of the oven, eat it while hot!"

Saying that, he tore off a small piece, stuffed it in his mouth, chewed twice, and his eyes widened: "Oh my god, this aroma shoots straight to the brain!"

Zhao Jianguo chuckled, about to speak, when several neighbors hearing the commotion also gathered over.

"Yo, when was this painting replaced with a new one?" Aunt Li pointed at the Along the River During the Qingming Festival on the wall and asked.

"No, it's the original." Zhao Jianguo replied.

"Impossible!" Old Master Xu shook his head, "The original was already torn at the corner; how could there be no damage now?"

"Maybe you misremembered." Sha Zhu blurted, "What technology doesn't the Zhao family have nowadays? Fixing a painting is nothing."

"But this is a print." Li Auntie didn't believe it, "It's not an original; why bother fixing it?"

Zhao Jianguo didn't explain. He knew it couldn't be made clear.

On the other hand, Zhao Chen turned over on the recliner, mumbling dazedly: "Someone in the painting is laughing… Grandfather says thank you."

The voice wasn't loud, but the room fell silent all at once.

Sha Zhu was the first to react: "Oh dear, is Chenchen dreaming of the old master again?"

Zhao Jianguo lowered his head to look at his son, understanding a bit in his heart.

That night, the triplets' recital of the Theory of Relativity hadn't been fully digested; now Zhao Chen could sense and restore ancient paintings—indicating that whatever is inside them hasn't stopped, still taking effect.

Moreover, this time is different.

Last time it was passive reception of information; this time he actively triggered something.

The system backend quietly popped up a line of text:

【Cultural protection specialization activated】

【Sub-permission unlocked: Historical artifact resonance identification】【Organic material microscopic regulation】

Zhao Jianguo stared at those characters for two seconds, saying nothing.

He knew what that meant.

In the future, upon encountering old objects, ancient buildings, or even a brick or tile, Zhao Chen might produce a reaction.

This isn't just a fever-induced dream; it's an ability taking shape.

He raised his head and looked at the painting on the wall.

Now no one doubts that it was replaced with a new painting.

Because Sha Zhu on the spot sliced half a roasted duck and invited everyone to try it.

The duck skin cracks at a bite, juice bursting out; strangest of all, each person eating it feels a different flavor.

Aunt Li said she tasted the scent of sugar‑roasted chestnuts from the alley of her childhood; Old Master Xu said it resembled the stewed vegetable flavor from the army mess hall when he served; Sha Zhu, chewing and grinning, remarked, "How did I taste the vigor of my mother's hand‑pulled noodles?"

Zhao Jianguo took a bite and unexpectedly recalled the mala tang stall beneath his university dormitory.

This isn't right.

It's not a matter of taste; memories are being drawn out.

He abruptly glanced at the roasted duck on the table—could that new‑material film also have been contaminated by whatever Zhao Chen just released?

As he thought that, a faint humming came from the sky.

He looked up; above the courtyard wall, a palm‑sized black drone glided slowly over the roof, its camera sweeping downward before turning and flying off.

Zhao Jianguo remained expressionless, putting the lollipop in his mouth and chewing slowly.

The people inside were still lively.

"I say, Zhao Jianguo, your kids are something else." Old Master Xu wiped his mouth, "One can restore paintings, one makes roasted duck evoke nostalgia—could the next be able to conjure a small car out of thin air?"

"Don't say that, I really want to try." Sha Zhu chuckled, "Next time get me some materials, and I'll roast a rocket!"

Li Aunt gave him a look: "Boasting isn't taxed, right?"

Zhao Jianguo sat in the corner, one hand resting on Zhao Chen's back, feeling his steady breathing.

He knew someone outside was watching.

He also knew this peace wouldn't last long.

But now, at least for this moment, the courtyard had laughter, aroma, well-roasted duck, and a repaired old painting.

Zhao Chen twitched his hand slightly in his sleep, the corners of his mouth turning up a bit.

That drone that had flown off turned in the distance and realigned itself toward the courtyard.

Zhao Jianguo lifted his eyes to the sky, his fingers lightly tapping the chair's armrest.