In the mental landscape, an emerald green star flickered. One could tell from the flashing frequency alone that it was hesitating and conflicted.
The list that had already been read was tossed aside onto the coffee table. The Prince, leaning back against the sofa, had a rare, icy expression. His originally round pupils gradually elongated, presenting a cold-blooded, cruel vertical slit.
The mental shackles he had laid down objectively strengthened Leslie’s perception and control over Casper’s mental realm. Usually, he would not pry into his Ci Jun’s privacy, but today, the crazily flickering point of light revealed abnormal emotions. Fearing that Casper was in trouble, he used this privilege for the first time.
Who would have thought that the moment he connected, he would hear such inner thoughts?
An unspeakable emotion welled up in his chest, as if countless hands were dragging his heart down into an abyss. The pain nearly materialized into real wounds, branded onto his young, tender heart.
The escalating pain forced Leslie to disconnect the connection. In the empty office area, there was only him; no other bug saw his pale complexion or his fingers tightly clenching the fabric over his heart.
Even though he could only hear his own dull heartbeat in his ears, the fragmented inner voice he had just heard echoed relentlessly in his mind. He uncontrollably began to imagine things based on that inner voice.
If Casper really asked him, would he refuse?
Whether it was the arrival of a Prince or the return of a former commander, it was an occasion worth celebrating. The party was grand and lively, and almost every available military female bug had put in the effort to spruce themselves up, hoping to leave a good impression on the Prince at the event.
They had not managed to seize the opportunity at the last farewell party, so this time, they absolutely could not miss it.
This was not just about courtship; it was also about their careers. Becoming a subordinate of the Prince seemed, by any measure, far better than competing with thousands of colleagues for a single chance to get ahead.
But their expectations were destined to be dashed.
The Prince, in poor spirits, merely delivered a hasty speech before vanishing into the crowd without a trace, not even dancing the first dance.
Under the influence of mental suggestion, not a single military female bug noticed anything amiss. They mingled and toasted, completely unaware that the protagonist of the party had already disappeared.
After dealing with yet another bug trying to get close to him, Casper finally found a chance to slip away.
Outside the venue, the bright moon hung high, and the cold night wind swept through the courtyard, tearing away the lingering scent of alcohol and restoring clarity to his mind.
Casper held his forehead and thought carefully, but he could not remember when Leslie had left. There was just a moment of mental dizziness, and his Xiongzhǔ (male master) was gone. By the time he realized it, he could not find him anywhere in the venue.
An irrepressible panic spread in his chest, even though he knew that this was the base of the First Legion and the possibility of Leslie encountering danger was infinitely close to zero.
Thin, delicate wings unfolded from his back. The ice-blue butterfly wings were covered in a layer of fine, sharp scales, refracting laser-like colors in the moonlight.
It was a pair of wings as beautiful as a work of art, but no bug would doubt that such a pair of butterfly wings, appearing as fragile as thin ice, possessed power far greater than steel blades or lasers.
The butterfly wings flapped slowly in the moonlight, shaking off starry phosphorus powder. The thin yet tough wings carried their owner in the direction detected by his tentacles.
On the rooftop, the lone Prince sat lazily on the ground, looking up and bathing in the tranquil moonlight.
He was not drinking this time.
So, there would be no officer coming to catch him for disciplinary violations and bring him back.
Although he had retired long ago, there would not be anyone to bring him back regardless of whether he drank or not.
Now, he did not want to see any bug, nor did he want to hear any bug talk to him. He just wanted to enjoy the cold moonlight in silence, without thinking about anything.
Unfortunately, there was always some bug wanting to disturb his peace.
The mass in his field of vision grew larger and larger. As the distance closed, its specific form was revealed: thin, beautiful ice-blue butterfly wings, and a tall, robust, jerk of a military female bug—completely mismatched.
Leslie looked expressionlessly at the jerk of a female bug approaching him at high speed, only to decelerate sharply at a distance of less than ten meters. He landed slowly in front of him and knelt on one knee.
He had not violated any discipline this time, so Casper had no reason to take him back.
After finally finding his Xiongzhǔ, Casper let out a silent sigh of relief. His tense nerves relaxed, and his disordered heartbeat gradually returned to a steady state.
He did not ask why Leslie had suddenly run to this place; he only took off his own coat, wrapped his Prince up completely, and circled him in his arms.
“Your Highness, the night dew is heavy and the wind is cold. Do not catch a cold.”
Male bugs always had finer and more sensitive nerves. Perhaps, in a place he did not know, his Prince had suddenly had some unhappy thoughts, which brought him to the rooftop to vent.
In the past, he had never been able to solve such problems; he could only bring the delicate male bug back to the dormitory before the cold night fell to prevent him from getting sick.
Now, he was still at a loss for such problems, but at least he could put a coat on Leslie and keep him company.
A development he had never anticipated left Leslie stunned for a moment, speechless for a long time.
A faint, cool mint scent lingered at the tip of his nose, seeping into his lungs. Completely different from the cool pheromones was the female bug’s scorching body temperature, like the spicy aftertaste of mint, leaving him unexpectedly at a loss after the initial coolness.
Warmth was continuously transmitted to him through the coat, like a selfless star, dedicating all its light and heat until the end of its life.
Across the coat, Leslie reached out and grasped the palm that circled in front of him, clutching it tightly.
“Commander, do you want to go back?”
Back to the position where you should have been, back to that position you fought half a lifetime to win.
In fact, he should not have asked; it was a question with a clear answer long ago.
“Even if the price is me, do you still want to go back?”
He was just feeling a bit uncontrollably aggrieved; he was just unwilling to accept it. He had never been the one chosen.
“No.”
The large palm gripped him firmly through the coat, clenching tight, even hurting him.
But Leslie had no time to worry about that bit of pain.
His entire body was stunned by that single word.
For a moment, Leslie almost could not believe what he had heard; he even suspected that he had auditory hallucinations because he wanted that answer so much.
“I will not allow any sacrifice on your part to happen.”
Casper admitted that he did indeed think a military rank was important, but that was not compared to Leslie.
He had already made his choice.
He was no longer like he was when he was young, needing to fight desperately for survival. As for ambition, he had already achieved the rank of General, which was basically the top. He had the ambition for promotion, but he did not want to usurp the throne.
Having power in his hands was indeed good; it provided self-protection and followers, allowing him to ascend to the upper echelons even if he was born humble.
But that was about it.
What if he was a General? Had he not still been pushed into a desperate situation by Gray once, nearly facing imprisonment?
He had not forgotten who had saved him.
Nor had he forgotten Leslie’s tearful golden eyes when he had just entered the physiological awakening period.
Leslie had already sacrificed enough for him.
He could not use his Prince as the price for his own selfish desires.
The message transmitted from the mental sea indicated that this was not a lie.
Leslie blinked slowly, still unable to return to his senses.
Some swelling emotion filled his chest, causing his myocardium to heave violently. Blood laden with emotion was pumped throughout his body, igniting a raging fire in his blood vessels.
Thump, thump, thump.
The frequency of the two heartbeats gradually overlapped. The invisible barrier was finally broken, and the two violently beating hearts only broke through the boundaries at this moment, sticking tightly together.
Any language at this moment was too pale and insufficient to depict one ten-thousandth of the heart’s power.
Therefore, he just said, “It is late. Carry me back. Back to your dormitory.”
Lying on the broad shoulder and back, his arms wrapped around his neck, crossed at the collarbone, with his fingertips dangling over his heart.
Between breaths was the cool mint scent, the flavor he liked very much.
The female bug’s steps were very steady, without the slightest bump, as if the bug on his back had already fallen into a deep sleep, and he could not bear the possibility of waking him up.
This was the second time Casper had carried him back.
The last time was after his retirement party.
The drunken male bug had finally summoned the courage to do a series of things impossible on normal days.
For example, wanting a hug, wanting to hold hands to watch the moon together, and wanting his commander to carry him back when he was tired of walking.
A drunken bug needs no reason to do things; he acts according to his heart.
Perhaps magic had been sprinkled into that glass of sweet wine, perhaps the frost-blue hair under the moonlight was too dreamy, or perhaps it was the mint scent that had suddenly become thick all around.
Leslie did not know what kind of temptation he had received; his somewhat muddled head did not want to think, and the words just tumbled out.
“Casper, Casper, when I come of age, will you be my Ci Jun, okay?”
The drunken male bug became inexplicably agitated, struggling to crawl forward. He suddenly wanted to see those emerald green eyes.
But the back of his knees was tightly restrained, limiting his movements.
He could not see the expression; all he could perceive were the tense muscles beneath him and the increasingly thick mint scent around him.
He then became obedient, resting his small chin on the crook of his neck, his breath spraying on the sensitive skin by his neck.
His tone was sweet and soft, as if acting like a spoiled child.
“I can come of age in less than two years; how about we get married then?”
“You wait for me, okay? Do not be with other bugs, okay? Is that okay?”
In the long silence, the thick mint pheromones gradually settled, pressing down heavily to form a thick cloud layer above his heart, blocking out the bright light.
“No.”
The cold, icy mint rain fell, making his heart ache.