Star Cub Cake had become the new favorite on Xingyuan’s dining table. After tasting it, Yue Xi also felt the flavor was good.
Because the raw ingredients were only available locally, Yue Xi didn’t want to make Xingyuan feel deprived, so he made a deal with that pastry shop — every day a servant would be responsible for going to pick up the freshly made Star Cub Cake of the day.
The storage room of the Hua household thus accumulated all sorts of pastries that could never be finished. Because the two parties had signed a long-term order, the shop clerk had also grown familiar with the Hua household. That day, the young lady had specially had someone bring over some semi-finished pastry dough that could be shaped by hand.
Xingyuan was curious about everything. After hearing about this, he hurriedly had someone bring over the semi-finished dough — although the raw material only came in white, it was enough for Xingyuan to have some fun with.
At first, Yue Xi merely happened to be passing by Xingyuan’s side. Seeing this, he stopped next to Xingyuan and had someone bring clean cutting boards, files, and other tools.
Xingyuan worked at it very seriously. After busying himself for about an hour, a miniature version of “Xingyuan” was made. When it came to designing the doll’s appearance and pose, Xingyuan was still quite mischievous.
Yue Xi crouched down and carefully picked up the doll with his fingers. After seeing the figure’s pose, he couldn’t help but laugh.
He saw that the small white doll looked almost exactly like Xingyuan. At that moment, the little doll was lying face-down on a table, pinching an even more miniature doll. The even more miniature doll was pinching an even more, more miniature doll, and that one was pinching an even more, more, more…
The pastry had practically become a “Xingyuan nesting doll.”
Yue Xi set his hand on top of Xingyuan’s soft hair. He rubbed it gently, not daring to use much force, afraid of messing up the young master’s hairstyle. Xingyuan was also well-behaved — no matter how Yue Xi moved him around, he simply kept his sapphire-blue eyes open and obediently accepted it.
This was the first time Xingyuan had ever shaped something by hand, and it had to be said he had some talent for it. Yue Xi examined it for a long while and said, “Except for the nose, which is a bit off, the rest is almost identical.”
Xingyuan was quite pleased. Seeing there was still some raw material left, he thought it over for a while, and in the end shaped out an Aisley.
Xingyuan’s talent was formidable — even though it was his first time shaping anything, not only had he captured Aisley’s appearance, he had even captured the character’s temperament, personality, and presence.
Once the finished piece came out, Yue Xi looked several times at this unfamiliar yet extraordinarily charismatic man. He was just about to open his mouth to ask, when he saw the young master bite straight down on the little figure’s head.
Hearing the sound, Xingyuan looked up and blinked. “What’s wrong?”
Yue Xi: …
“N-nothing.”
In the end, the young master finished off “Aisley” in two bites, then lay back in his chair rubbing his belly with a look of contentment.
****
Zhang Xin was an unexpected friend of Xingyuan’s. Going by the trajectories of their lives, the two of them should never have had any intersection.
Zhang Xin’s appearance wasn’t stunning, but he had no obvious flaws and his features were regular. Sitting there, he was so unremarkable that people wouldn’t notice him — but if you stared at his face, you’d find that the longer you looked, the more good-looking he became.
Zhang Xin was Xingyuan’s classmate, the kind of person who went unnoticed in class. Originally, they would have remained strangers to each other all the way until graduation, and even years later at a class reunion, if Zhang Xin didn’t show up, no one would have thought of him.
But that day, outside of school, Xingyuan noticed him.
That day, Xingyuan passed by a place not covered by the Star Network, and in a corner he saw Zhang Xin being surrounded and cornered. This was the first time Xingyuan had ever seen a scene like this.
Zhang Xin wasn’t particularly short, but his build was rather thin, and he looked gentle and refined.
Since he’d seen it, Xingyuan was going to help. As he rushed over, he found himself thinking — if he hadn’t been there, how would this person have saved himself?
Xingyuan had loved watching anime since he was little. The protagonists he’d seen in situations like this either concealed their true strength, or fought back even if it meant getting beaten bloody, or used the chance to flee…
However, before he could figure it out, Zhang Xin had already made his choice.
Right in front of Xingyuan, Zhang Xin bent at the waist, lowering his voice and putting on an ingratiating, pleading smile. But it was no use. A sudden slap sent Zhang Xin’s face turning to the side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Xingyuan was startled — he ran even faster.
Yet Zhang Xin smiled again, becoming even more submissive, begging for mercy over and over, as if he had no temper at all. He was kicked down onto the ground; Zhang Xin steadied his body but did not stand up — instead he knelt down before these people. He hissed a few times through his teeth, lowering his voice even further, even pleading that he would do anything at all if only they would let him go.
The attackers didn’t stop, however. They laughed loudly, pointing at Zhang Xin, their words full of mockery and ridicule. Zhang Xin lowered his head and forced a smile.
Xingyuan was about to shout, but someone else understood his intention first. Before Xingyuan could even reach them, the several attackers were suddenly tackled and pinned down by a number of bodyguards.
Xingyuan, panting for breath, hurried over and thanked the bodyguards. “Thank you, uncles. Could I trouble you to send them to the police station?”
The bodyguards had been assigned to Xingyuan by his parents, so naturally they obeyed Xingyuan’s words. Once there was no one else around, only then did Xingyuan help Zhang Xin up with both hands.
Zhang Xin felt a faint strength supporting him. He lowered his head, his eyes clouded and unfocused, but once he realized he was safe, Zhang Xin’s eyes condensed into an extreme twisting and intense hatred. Of course, this emotion was not directed at the person who had saved him.
Hearing the familiar voice, he instantly knew the identity of his rescuer. Hua Xingyuan — a very pure and eye-catching young master. This person was an extremely dazzling presence in class.
Zhang Xin’s mind was in chaos at that moment; he had no idea at all how he should behave toward this person.
Xingyuan helped Zhang Xin up. The other party said nothing, and Xingyuan didn’t mind at all either. His school uniform wasn’t dirtied, so there was no dust to brush off.
Xingyuan paused for a moment, then took out a water purification sphere and handed it to Zhang Xin. Zhang Xin hesitated for a moment before accepting it, lowering his head and saying “thank you” in a very small voice.
That day, Xingyuan walked with Zhang Xin for a long time, “on the way.” He didn’t mention a single thing about that group of people, nor did he act especially eager about it — there wasn’t even a trace of pity in his words. It was as if “that incident” had never happened at all, from start to finish. The two of them chatted like ordinary classmates, and even grew more and more familiar with each other as they went.
Before parting ways, they exchanged contact information. Xingyuan wore a smile on his face, looking perfectly natural. But in a corner where no one could see, Zhang Xin’s fingertips were trembling.
Xingyuan boarded his private aircraft under the escort of his bodyguards. Zhang Xin stood on the ground watching Xingyuan leave, until he could no longer see even a trace of the aircraft’s shadow.
Zhang Xin stood there for a long, long time.
Years later, someone in interstellar political circles would say: “That fellow Zhang Yazi is a mad dog — bites whoever he sets his sights on. The moment you so much as glance at him a bit too long, he can turn around and destroy your entire family. It’s only thanks to the Prime Minister’s protection that he hasn’t already been killed eight hundred times over by his enemies.”
Someone else laughed: “Do you really not understand, or are you just pretending not to? He’s a blade in the Prime Minister’s hand. Without the old gentleman’s tacit consent, would Zhang Yazi even dare?”
****
Friday came around again.
Today, Xingyuan wasn’t looking forward to it as much as he’d imagined he would. Gazing at the blue light of the Star-Scrying Device, he felt somewhat restless.
What met his eyes was still just as desolate as ever. Xingyuan, backpack slung over his shoulders, gazed blankly around him. Fortunately, that red dot was still there — though he couldn’t tell if it was just his imagination, but he kept feeling that the red dot’s light seemed a bit weaker than usual.
This time, Xingyuan didn’t end up walking as long as last time. The sky had only just gone dark when the data before his eyes showed that he had only three kilometers left to his destination. Xingyuan let out a breath of relief, and looking up, he noticed the vegetation ahead had clearly grown denser.
It took Xingyuan a few seconds to remember — last time he’d walked this path, hadn’t there seemingly been a battle going on?
A battle? Xingyuan felt a flash of panic. Linking this to the faint red dot, it wasn’t hard to guess that something might have happened to Aisley.
In fact, something had indeed happened to Aisley — though it wasn’t yet serious enough to threaten his life.
Inside the tent. Aisley lay face-down on the bed, his face pale, gently rubbing with his finger at the grain of the wood by the bedside. Counting today’s mark, that made five vertical lines in total now…
He sighed. For the first time, he found himself hoping the boy would be held up by something and unable to come. Even so, on the tabletop there still sat a full nine pieces of milk cake, as if specially prepared for someone in particular.
Just at that moment, the tent flap was lifted, and the accompanying physician walked in carrying gauze and medicine for wounds. Aisley stiffened, his expression rather unnatural. “Could we change it again in a couple of days instead?”
The physician was quite annoyed at hearing this. “My lord, your wound is this severe — the slightest carelessness could cost you your life. Please don’t be so willful and unreasonable.” Having said that, the physician took up the gauze and prepared to change the dressing.
“I don’t know how this awkward mentality of yours came about. Though the wound may be somewhat embarrassing, compared to your life, a sense of shame is clearly of no consequence.”
As the physician changed the dressing, he furrowed his brow, muttering, “Since when has my lord ever had a sense of shame? Now that really is something novel.”
Aisley: …
The physician began bandaging from the lower back, the long gash splitting open the flesh — in the deepest parts, even white bone could be seen. He worked his way down, changing the dressing all the way to the thigh, then his hand trembled slightly, and he couldn’t help but sigh.
“That slash back then really was a pity — impressive to look at but completely useless.”
Aisley: …
Before the dressing had even been fully changed, the very thing Aisley had been worried about happened anyway.
At that moment, the tent flap stirred, and a pair of jade-white hands reached in from outside, followed by that very well-behaved boy. The boy, backpack on his shoulders, caught sight of Aisley mid-treatment at a single glance. Worry instantly welled up in his sapphire-blue eyes. The boy stood rooted to the spot for a moment, hesitating, before finally walking over slowly.
Aisley’s expression remained as calm as ever, only his Adam’s apple rolled slightly, and the hand hidden within the bed unconsciously clenched the sheet.
Seeing the boy’s gaze gradually shift toward the area the physician was currently treating, Aisley’s breath sank; he couldn’t help but close his eyes and turn his head aside. His other hand gently tugged at the blanket, wanting to cover himself up, but the physician stopped him.
“My lord, even if you’re cold, you’ll need to let me finish changing the dressing before you cover up.”
The familiar footsteps drew closer and closer. Aisley’s leg muscles tensed, pulling the wound open even more. He hissed through his teeth, and the physician cautioned him as well, “Please relax.”
The gauze had already been wrapped up, so Xingyuan couldn’t see what the wound looked like. But so much blood-soaked gauze lying on the ground was already shocking enough to behold. Xingyuan’s heart trembled; he grew a little flustered.
He couldn’t see the other areas, so Xingyuan could only try to look at the last wound. However, just as he walked over, that last wound had also already been bound up.
Worry showed on Xingyuan’s face. He examined the gauze carefully, yet he still found it hard to imagine what the wound beneath looked like. When his gaze accidentally swept over something he shouldn’t have looked at, he didn’t take much notice of it either.
Once the physician finished bandaging, he lectured Aisley, “As long as you properly rest and recuperate, and don’t move around recklessly, nine times out of ten you won’t die.”
Xingyuan gradually set his mind at ease.
The physician walked out, and Xingyuan sat quietly alone off to the side. At first he was still thinking about Aisley’s injuries, but gradually, the scene he had just witnessed came flooding back into his mind.
Xingyuan pressed his lips together, his eyes drifting. He quietly lowered his head and glanced down at himself, and afterward his cheeks turned bright red.
His legs pressed together unconsciously.