Chu Li’s face stiffened as he stared blankly at Lu Jin’s back.
What kind of inspection requires taking off clothes?
He tried to mentally prepare himself. Fine, let him check. Lu Jin is my fiancé, after all. During Lu Jin’s last rut, Chu Li had been the one to accompany him. Although it was only a temporary marking, they had shared a level of intimacy.
Thinking of this, he quickly shed his clothes until only his white shorts remained. He closed his eyes tight, braced for the worst, and said with a tone of martyrdom, “I’m ready.”
Lu Jin turned around and looked at him. His voice remained steady. “What exactly are you doing?”
Chu Li opened his eyes in confusion, only to realize that Lu Jin was holding a handheld scanner.
Lu Jin waved the scanner slightly, his dark eyes emerging from the shadows. His lips seemed to twitch. “You only needed to take off your jacket since it has metal components.”
“…” Chu Li.
If only the metal jacket needed to come off, why use the suggestive phrase “take off your clothes”?
He glared at Lu Jin, but the man acted as if he didn’t notice. Lu Jin scanned his body once, and after finding no abnormalities, handed the device to a nearby robot.
“What did you think I meant?” Lu Jin asked, his breath brushing against Chu Li’s forehead.
Chu Li quickly put his clothes back on. His ears were burning, and his jaw was set tight. He didn’t want to speak to this man who couldn’t communicate clearly.
Lu Jin seemed to let out a muffled laugh before turning to leave the reception room. “Alright, you’re cleared of suspicion. Let’s go.”
I was never a suspect to begin with.
Chu Li fumbled with the buttons of his jacket as he followed Lu Jin. The fire of embarrassment still hadn’t died down. Feeling toyed with, he couldn’t help but glare at Lu Jin’s back. He didn’t realize that Lu Jin could see his “vivid” expressions reflected in the polished stone tiles ahead.
As they stepped out, Qu Yi was waiting by the door. He bowed respectfully to Lu Jin, but his gaze lingered for a few seconds on Chu Li’s disheveled appearance.
Qu Yi had intentionally led Chu Li to the reception room, knowing a distinguished guest was coming, hoping to frame him. He hadn’t expected Chu Li to emerge unscathed. He wasn’t afraid of being accused because the manor’s surveillance happened to “malfunction” at that exact time. As long as he denied it and relied on the backing of Lu Jin’s aunt, he believed Lu Jin wouldn’t move against him.
Oddly enough, Chu Li didn’t say a word to him. Instead, he shot Qu Yi a look.
Was that… pity?
Chu Li indeed pitied the new butler. The man thought his little schemes were hidden, but he likely had no idea how the previous butler died.
The previous butler had been turned into a human pincushion by Lu Jin in the Nebula basement.
At that time, Lu Jin had returned from military leave to find Chu Li according to Grandpa Chu’s last wishes. He found Chu Li on a pirate ship bound for Planet Hecke. After the rescue, Chu Li was temporarily blinded by the side effects of the X-T drug and stayed at Nebula to recover. The butler had been the one delivering his meals.
One day, his sight returned, and he accidentally stumbled into the basement. He saw strange torture devices hanging in the air and a line of masked men in black holding laser rifles. In the center, tied to a stake, was a middle-aged Beta—the butler—covered in darts and blood.
Chu Li’s instinct was to flee, but a cold gun barrel pressed against his temple. His heart hammered, but he forced himself to stand still and stare blankly, continuing to act blind.
He saw a tall silhouette turn in the shadows. The sound of military boots echoed on the floor. The handsome face from the posters emerged, shadows under his eyes making his gaze dark and deep. Lu Jin played with a dart, his voice emotionless. “Chu Li.”
Chu Li reached out, feeling the air. “Is that you, General Lu?” He kept his voice calm, even though cold sweat was soaking his shirt.
“Why did you come down here?”
“It’s mealtime, and the butler didn’t come for me…”
“The butler won’t be coming anymore. He’s dead.” As he spoke, Lu Jin turned and flicked the dart like an arrow, burying it in the Beta’s chest. The man convulsed in pain.
Chu Li gulped. He had already guessed the identity of the person on the stake. “Then… General, my condolences.”
“Mhm.”
Just as he was looking for an excuse to leave, a man in black dragged the bloodied butler right in front of him to test if he could really see. Chu Li didn’t let his eyes move. The man in black punched the butler’s abdomen, forcing the darts deeper into his organs. The butler coughed up blood, which splattered directly onto Chu Li’s face.
The basement went silent as everyone stared at him. The air was thick with killing intent. Chu Li wiped the blood from his face and said steadily, “General, the ceiling seems to be leaking.”
“…”
He had managed to bluff his way through that day. Before his sight returned, he had only known Lu Jin’s voice—deep, magnetic, and gentle. He had even told the butler that Lu Jin was a “good person.”
The butler had only smiled meaningfully. “I suspect you’re the only person in the Empire who thinks the General is a ‘good person’.”
Only after seeing that side of him did Chu Li realize he didn’t know Lu Jin at all. The gentleness was just a veil he had placed over his savior while in the dark. He had planned to leave the next day, but then his “false heat” hit.
“Chu Li?” Lu Jin noticed him dazing and called his name.
Chu Li snapped back to reality, his eyes darting toward the basement entrance. His face was tense. “What is it?”
“Eat first, then we’ll go pick a mecha.” Lu Jin followed his gaze toward the basement.
“Okay.”
Even now, the memory made his heart race. As he sat at the dining table, he couldn’t help but remember the man in black dragging the bloodied butler away while he sat there “blindly” eating. If it weren’t for his acting skills, he might be a pincushion too.
The previous butler had served Lu Jin for over a decade and was still killed without hesitation. This new butler was dancing on the edge of a grave without even knowing it. Chu Li lowered his eyes and ate in silence.
Lu Jin looked at the boy’s ears and likely guessed what he was thinking. In truth, Lu Jin had been fooled at first, until he caught Chu Li blushing while Lu Jin was changing clothes. That was when he realized the little liar could see.
That night during the false heat, Chu Li’s white shirt had been soaked with sweat, clinging to his body as he rubbed into Lu Jin’s arms, whispering like a monk chanting a sutra.
Lu Jin had leaned in to hear him repeating: “I can’t see… I can’t see, I see nothing…”
Lu Jin had laughed out of sheer irritation and bitten the tip of his ear. “Little liar.”
After dinner, Lu Jin took Chu Li to the open grounds outside. The red sand shimmered like sparks under the moonlight. Holographic digits flickered in the air as a one-way virtual barrier covered the manor like a dome, shielding it from outside eyes.
With a mechanical rumble, a row of tall mechas rose from the ground. There were over a dozen models, ranging from mountain-like heavy mechas to agile light models. Each was coated in the latest temperature-resistant, anti-corrosive paint and used black crystals for axles.
Chu Li stared at them, mesmerized. They were far more stunning than anything in his books. When Lu Jin asked him which one he wanted to try, he couldn’t choose. They were all perfect.
Ultimately, Lu Jin picked a dual-operator mecha.
Inside the cramped cockpit, Chu Li was pressed close to Lu Jin. “Early mechas were mechanical. Now we use resonance, but you should learn the basic manual operations first.”
“Okay.”
“Start it up.”
Chu Li pressed the red button. Electricity seemed to ripple through the steel veins of the machine. A mechanical voice spoke in his ear: “Hello, I am Poy.”
“Hello, Poy. I’m Chu Li,” he replied, suppressing his excitement.
“Try controlling the left arm,” Lu Jin commanded.
Chu Li toggled the yellow button. The screen showed the arm rising. He tilted the joystick, and the mecha’s arm rotated, curling into a fist in front of its chest. He did the same for the right. The two black-gold steel arms tucked in like a warrior ready for battle.
“This is a medium-sized land-air model. Try to make it fly.”
Following Lu Jin’s steps, Chu Li engaged the thrusters. The engine roared, and black smoke billowed from the base. He held his breath, watching the display. In an instant, Poy’s arms retracted into wings, and they soared into the sky.
The g-force threw his body back, but Lu Jin placed a hand on the nape of his neck to steady him. Chu Li didn’t dare lose focus. As Poy neared the barrier, he swung the joystick to bank into a turn, circling the manor.
His first lap was shaky, but the second was much smoother. As he relaxed, he noticed the beautiful, star-filled night. He felt as if he could touch the stars. He turned to share the view with Lu Jin, only to find the man watching him with a quiet, steady gaze.
Chu Li froze. Lu Jin reached out and handed him a small brocade pouch.
“Chu Li, this is sand from Planet Qiwang.”
A year ago, Lu Jin had promised to recapture the planet and find Grandpa Chu’s remains. “We couldn’t find the remains,” Lu Jin said. “So I brought the sand instead.”
Chu Li took the pouch. In his moment of distraction, the mecha lurched. He scrambled to stabilize it, but Lu Jin pressed a button. “Auto-pilot mode engaged,” Poy announced.
The mecha leveled out, carrying them slowly through the starlight. Chu Li clutched the pouch, staring at the screen in silence.
“Thank you,” he finally whispered.
Lu Jin changed the subject. “Basic operations are the same across models, but the military exam focuses on combat.” He pulled up the weapon systems. “In the air, Poy uses laser bolts from its underside.” He covered Chu Li’s hand with his own and pressed a trigger. Laser fire rained down, kicking up clouds of red sand. “On the ground, it has a magazine on its back, cannons in the chest, and blades in the fingers for close combat.”
Chu Li nodded, memorizing every word. After the training, he reluctantly stroked Poy’s smooth plating. He suddenly had a thought: I want to build a mecha of my own.
“We’ll learn resonance tomorrow,” Lu Jin said.
“Mhm.” Chu Li tucked the pouch into his pocket. Lu Jin noticed the boy’s faded, frayed hem and the worn edges of his clean white shoes.
“Where is your money?” Lu Jin asked. After Chu Qin died, the Empire had granted Chu Li a 100,000 star-coin pension.
Chu Li’s lips moved slightly. “My money was stolen,” he whispered.
Lu Jin stopped walking and repeated, word by word: “Stolen?”
Chu Li finished recounting how the reward money he received was snatched by bandits the moment he returned to the Lower District.
Lu Jin listened, his expression unchanging, though his voice dropped an octave. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I couldn’t get a hold of you,” Chu Li said truthfully.
Lu Jin realized that their previous meetings had always occurred during “special” moments. By the time he left the next morning, Chu Li was usually still asleep, so they had never exchanged contact information.
Chu Li hadn’t made a point of mentioning it until today, seemingly in passing. His face remained neutral, yet Lu Jin detected a flicker of complaint in his eyes as he spoke.
Lu Jin opened his terminal and added Chu Li’s contact.
“From now on, contact me immediately if anything happens.”
Just as he spoke, his notification bar flashed. Lu Jin tapped it to find a message from Lu Tao.
[Brother Jin, get to the Yuan Palace fast. Something happened to the Star Lord!]
Lu Jin frowned and closed his terminal. Without saying much else, he told Chu Li to rest early. He changed into a fresh uniform and departed into the moonlight aboard his silver-white ship.
As the ship vanished into the night, its exhaust drifted like smoke, blending into the darkness.
Chu Li withdrew his gaze, thinking about the message he had glimpsed.
Something happened to the Star Lord?
He searched the web but found only news of the Star Lord attending a theater performance earlier that day: nothing else.
That night, after showering, he bypassed the master bedroom and went to the guest room to sleep. He noticed that as he walked toward the guest room, the tension in Qu Yi’s face finally eased a fraction.
“…”
Lu Jin stood on his ship, looking through the glass at the palace submerged in light.
The roof of the palace was shaped like a shallow bowl, concave in the middle with upturned edges. Red infrared beams crisscrossed into a dense grid, shrouding the entire structure. Two massive Birch-vines stood behind the palace, their thick branches splayed like the claws of a beast, casting shadows that crouched like predators against the walls.
The ship landed. As soon as Lu Jin stepped out, servants immediately rushed to greet him. He saw medical personnel streaming in and out of the side entrance, inquiring about the Star Lord’s condition.
Before the servants could answer him, Lu Tao appeared and waved them away. He whispered, “Brother Jin, the Star Lord is in a towering rage.”
Lu Jin didn’t say a word. He strode into the bedchamber. A crowd of people knelt outside the doors, heads bowed and trembling, while the Star Lord’s furious shouts echoed from within.
“Useless! You are all useless!” “What is the point of keeping you? People are stabbing me, and you’re all still there playing music and singing!”
Lu Jin looked at the basin of bloody water a doctor was carrying out, then listened to the Star Lord’s vigorous, booming voice. His eyes shifted slightly.
Several high-ranking military officials who had been off-duty were already there, shooting glances at Lu Jin. Everyone knew that in the Empire, the Star Lord only listened to two people: his eldest son, Yuan Ming, and Lu Jin.
Seeing Lu Jin, the Star Lord complained, “Mingcong, you tell me: should these people be punished?”
Mingcong was Lu Jin’s childhood name. Only those closest to him used it.
On the way over, Lu Jin had already learned the details of the assassination attempt from Lu Tao. The Star Lord had acted on a whim while watching a play, dragging his bodyguards and servants onto the stage to perform with the actors. Just as he was getting into the spirit of it, the actors suddenly turned into assassins, pulling hidden blades from their sleeves. By the time the guards noticed, the Star Lord had already been stabbed twice.
“They should,” Lu Jin said deeply.
“I should just have them all executed, cough cough…” A bloated figure behind the beaded curtain coughed. “But then I thought: wouldn’t that make me the cruel tyrant the rebels claim I am? I’ll be merciful. Just gouge out one eye from each of them.”
Hearing this, the kneeling guards and servants frantically kowtowed in gratitude before leaving to receive their punishment.
“General, the breath is gone,” a doctor’s voice rose from behind the curtain, loud enough for everyone outside to hear.
The Star Lord waved a hand. “Take him out and bury him.”
Two servants emerged from behind the curtain carrying a stretcher. The man on the stretcher had a mangled abdomen soaked in blood. His eyes were wide, staring into nothingness. He looked almost exactly like the Star Lord, Yuan Jing.
Lu Tao’s mouth hung open as he looked at Lu Jin, but he found no surprise on Lu Jin’s face.
“Those rebels think they can kill me like that? Haha!” Yuan Jing’s laughter shook his heavy frame behind the curtain. “They are far too naive!”
Clap.
Yuan Jing clapped his hands. The doors on either side of the chamber slowly slid open, revealing a row of obese men in black uniforms. They were eighty to ninety percent similar to Yuan Jing, even the folds of fat on their faces matched his. At a glance, an outsider could not tell them apart.
“They wouldn’t expect me to have so many body doubles.”
“The Star Lord is wise,” Fu Lin chirped, eager to flatter.
But the flattery landed poorly. Yuan Jing grunted, his mood shifting from laughter to unpredictable fury. “Wise? Even wisdom can’t protect me from the idiots I’m surrounded by! You couldn’t even keep an eye on a few assassins! If the double hadn’t gone on stage for me today, I’d be the one stabbed to death!”
“That rabble is just a mob. Can’t you regular army types handle them?” “Where are they getting the funds to organize these attacks over and over again?!”
The amount of star-coins circulating in the Lower District was strictly controlled. The poor had almost none; most worked just to earn a meal. It wasn’t just coins: any metal or crystal of value had been confiscated long ago.
Twenty years prior, the Empire had implemented the “Mecha Construction Project.” Under the guise of building mechas to protect the Empire, they had called for the Lower District citizens to voluntarily donate their metals and crystals. The people had responded in droves. Later, the Empire claimed the bases had been overrun by the Zerg and the materials destroyed, suspending the project.
Since then, the poor had no resources and no currency. They couldn’t even manufacture weapons, making it impossible to oppose the Upper District. They had become nothing more than a blood-bag for the elites.
Yuan Jing vented his temper, but no one outside the curtain dared to respond.
His cold gaze swept through the curtain, finally landing on Lu Jin. “Mingcong, the people around me are all gluttons. If we can’t wipe out those rebels soon, I’m going to transfer you back to take over the matter.”
Lu Tao’s expression froze. He peeked at Lu Jin. Lu Jin simply replied with one word: “Mhm.”
Lu Tao couldn’t help but signal Lu Jin with his eyes. Bringing a General back from the war zone to investigate rebels? It was using a sledgehammer to crack a nut. It was effectively a demotion disguised as a promotion.
Lu Jin, however, remained composed, appearing not to notice Lu Tao’s signals.
“Oh, these rebels have me so anxious I won’t be able to sleep tonight,” Yuan Jing sighed, thumping his chest.
Fu Lin quickly added, “Star Lord, we will guard the door for you. We won’t let a single fly through. Please rest well and do not worry.”
“…” Lu Tao rolled his eyes at Fu Lin. The man lacked skill but had learned plenty of sycophancy from Fu Zhao.
“Well then, I’ll trouble you all.”
Yuan Jing stretched and lay down on the bed, his protruding belly visible through the curtain. Within moments, heavy snoring echoed through the hall.
The officers forced to pull an all-night watch glared at Fu Lin. Fu Lin, seemingly oblivious, wore a wide grin and turned to speak to Lu Jin.
Lu Jin stood with his hands behind his back, facing away from Fu Lin under the veranda. The cold, white moonlight spilled over his black uniform, radiating a faint chill.
Lu Tao shoved aside the approaching Fu Lin and stepped forward. Before he could speak, Lu Jin raised a hand, signaling for silence.
The two of them stood there, straight as pines. In the middle of the night, Lu Jin reached into his pocket and was surprised to find two water-chestnut candies.
The last time he went to headquarters, he had found two in his pocket as well.
Water-chestnut candy was good for the lungs. The Northern Warzone was a desert where Lu Jin had been stationed for years. His lungs were affected by the sand, causing an occasional cough that even Lu Rao hadn’t noticed.
He unwrapped a candy and put it in his mouth. A faint sweetness spread across his palate.
It was the only bit of sweetness in the entire night.