Versatile Mage Chapter 3169  Stay Safe and Healthy

The heavens were a brilliant blue, stretching over a vibrant green landscape.

Mo Fan gazed upon the mountains, which were now carpeted in a blanket of blooming flowers.

Seal City had always been a place of scenic beauty, defined by its graceful rivers, serene woodlands, and picturesque vistas.

It had never crossed Mo Fan’s mind that this modest mountain town would actually be restored to its former glory.

He was struck by how perfectly the city mirrored its original state. Even more astonishing was the influx of tourists who had traveled there specifically because of his reputation.

“I never imagined I possessed the power to reshape the destiny of my own home,” Mo Fan murmured, a wave of sentimentality washing over him.

The world was vast and the nation expansive, yet he had left his mark on both. A deep sense of pride and genuine emotion filled him, knowing his birthplace flourished once more because of his actions.

Mo Fan understood the invisible threads connecting a small town to the country and the world at large. Most individuals who achieve greatness on a global scale begin with a simple desire: to safeguard their family and their roots.

…

Following through on his commitment, Mo Fan arrived for the inauguration of the Tianlan Memorial Magic High School.

The event proceeded without a hitch. Mo Fan participated in the festivities, observing the eager faces of high schoolers as they underwent their initial awakening.

This particular occasion was different, however, due to the introduction of the Black Magic Guiding Stone.

A significant number of students successfully tapped into Black Magic, becoming rare mages who claimed it as their primary element. It felt like the dawn of a transformative era.

“Mo Fan, where are you headed?” Mu Nujiao questioned with a curious tilt of her head. She noticed him drifting away toward the slopes behind the school grounds.

“Just taking a stroll,” Mo Fan answered.

“Would you like some company?” Mu Nujiao offered.

“No need. I’ll be alright on my own.”

As Mo Fan climbed the mountain, the surroundings felt as familiar as an old friend.

He navigated the narrow trail until he reached the secluded, quiet woods he remembered so well.

The canopy provided the same perfect shade, ideal for a quiet afternoon rest.

Beams of sunlight pierced through the foliage, casting a surreal, dreamlike glow over the forest floor.

Crunch, crunch.

The sudden sound of light footsteps broke the silence.

Mo Fan spun around to find an elderly man standing there.

In that instant, the pendant resting against Mo Fan’s chest began to pulse with intense energy.

He fixed a wary gaze on the man approaching him.

It was the very same old man from the back mountain—the one who had fundamentally altered the course of his life!

“It’s you!” Mo Fan exclaimed, his voice laced with shock.

There had been moments when he questioned his own sanity, wondering if the old man had ever existed.

He had even harbored a fear that he might wake up one day on this very mountain, discovering that his entire journey had been nothing more than a vivid hallucination. But his experiences were so tangible, so monumental. How could such an epic life be a mere dream?

“So, how was the experience?” the old man inquired with a cheerful glint in his eye.

“It’s been a journey of highs and lows… Tell me, are you some kind of law-breaking entity, perhaps a god who pulls the strings? Are you planning to cast me back into my original world?” Mo Fan asked. He realized that if this man truly held such power, resistance was futile.

“Haha. You give me too much credit. I don’t possess that kind of might,” the old man chuckled.

“Then where do I truly belong?” Mo Fan pressed.

“Right here. That other world you speak of is nothing more than a daydream you had one afternoon. Every time you bring it up, it sounds bizarre to me. A world entirely devoid of magic? How could such a place exist?” The old man laughed softly.

“Then… what did you mean when you asked ‘how was it?’” Mo Fan questioned.

“I meant this.” The old man gestured toward the pendant hanging from Mo Fan’s neck.

“The Little Loach Pendant?” Mo Fan looked down at the artifact that had become his most precious treasure.

“I have encountered many driven youths. They all chase after fame and glory, only to eventually settle for the mundane. They fail to see that those who reach the pinnacle often find themselves haunted by the memory of a simple life, envying the very people they left behind. Young man, oh young man…” the elder began to hum a soft melody as he disappeared into the depths of the woods.

Mo Fan remained motionless. The scenery around him stayed still, devoid of any sudden magical shifts.

…

Ring, ring, ring.

The bells signaled the end of the day at Tianlan Memorial Magic High School.

Mo Fan departed the campus and made his way back to the old, familiar street.

He spotted a figure he knew instantly.

The man was busy hosing down the small courtyard and the path leading to the gate, keeping the dust at bay.

From within the house, the comforting aroma of steaming rice drifted out, accompanied by the clatter of kitchenware.

The middle-aged man paused to scrub a spot on the ground. Despite the physical labor, a contented smile remained on his face. It was a serene, heartwarming sight bathed in the golden afternoon light.

Hearing the approach of footsteps, he looked up and saw Mo Fan walking toward him from the main road.

This had once been an everyday occurrence, yet the feeling of it had slipped from Mo Fan’s memory over the years.

His father stood by the door, welcoming him home from school just as he would on any other typical day.

“You’ve returned.” Mo Jiaxin smiled, the lines on his face deepening with the expression.

“Yeah, Dad. I’m home,” Mo Fan replied with a nod.

In that moment, Mo Fan felt as though he had never actually gone away.

It felt as if he had simply spent a long afternoon immersed in a massive, sprawling novel.

In those few hours, he had navigated a breathtaking and dangerous world. But now that the book was closed, he was once again just a teenage boy walking home under the glow of the setting sun, backpack in tow.

“It’s the Dragon Boat Festival today,” Mo Jiaxin reminded him.

“I completely forgot! You always keep track of those things, Dad.”

“I used to be just as reckless and forgetful as you,” Mo Jiaxin replied.

Mo Fan was puzzled for a second, but the meaning behind Mo Jiaxin’s words soon became clear.

As one matures, these small traditions and moments begin to carry more weight.

They both understood what truly mattered in this life. Most people already possessed it, though they often remained blind to it while chasing after more.

“Do you want sticky rice dumplings or the standard ones?” Mo Jiaxin asked.

“I’ll take both,” Mo Fan decided.

“Alright. I’ll have her get them ready for you,” Mo Jiaxin said.

“Who?” Mo Fan asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Stepping closer to the house, Mo Fan caught sight of a slim silhouette. For a heartbeat, he mistook her for Ye Xinxia. The resemblance was striking, particularly in the shape of her eyes.

However, upon closer inspection, he saw the woman was much older. She appeared fragile and washed out, bearing the look of someone who had suffered through a long-term illness.

Yet, her eyes remained clear and luminous, echoing Xinxia’s own gaze. They were filled with a quiet sense of peace.

“H-hello. Jiaxin has shared many stories about you. I-I have been very sick, and my memory isn't what it used to be.” Ye Chang spoke with the voice of a simple country woman. Being a newcomer to the household, she seemed slightly intimidated by Mo Fan’s presence.

For a fleeting moment, a sharp prickle of resentment rose within Mo Fan.

However, he recognized the tragedy of her existence, so he simply nodded and pushed his darker feelings aside.

“You mentioned you wanted both types of dumplings, right? I’ll go prepare them immediately. Please wait just a moment.” Ye Chang offered a shy smile and wiped a bead of sweat from her face.

As she disappeared into the kitchen, Mo Fan turned his attention to Mo Jiaxin.

“Dad,” Mo Fan began.

“Yes?”

“She probably doesn’t have much time left. You realize that, don’t you?” Mo Fan asked with a serious expression.

“I am well aware of her health. Just let me stay by her side,” Mo Jiaxin answered softly.

Mo Fan gave a silent nod, choosing not to press the matter further.

Before long, Ye Chang emerged with a spread of both sticky rice and regular dumplings.

Mo Fan took a bite of a dumpling first. Then, looking up at her, he said, “Oh, Ms. Ye, I forgot to mention something.”

“Oh? What is it?” Ye Chang asked, her nerves still visible. Looking at Mo Fan filled her with a profound sense of shame, as if she—or perhaps a different version of herself—had caused him great pain in the past.

She feared that Mo Fan might never truly welcome her into his life.

“Happy Dragon Boat Festival,” he said simply.

Ye Chang stared at him, caught completely off guard by the sentiment.

“H-Happy Dragon Boat Festival.” After a brief pause, Ye Chang finally relaxed, her response filled with sincerity.

“Haha! To health and safety for all of us from here on out!” Mo Jiaxin roared with laughter, lifting his glass in a toast.