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Limited Ambiguity Chapter 10

Chapter 10


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Lu Jun’s sculpture was based on a holographic image he left behind, accurate to the millimeter, even precisely capturing the curve of his fingernails.

He was clad in armor, his left hand gripping a long spear, his gaze fixed on the distance. And on the base of the sculpture, his epitaph was written, just four words in iron and silver script: “Only for the Alliance.”

Only for the Alliance, we fight relentlessly and never surrender.

Lu Fenghan couldn’t count how many times he had sat in front of this sculpture, so much so that every stroke of these few words was clearly etched in his mind.

He had even thought before that if he were to die on the front lines one day, he would use these four words as his epitaph, regardless of whether he could have a statue erected at Diamond Sky Square.

Only for the Alliance.

Half a sentence, yet the meaning was profound, especially daunting.

Tilting his head, he asked Qi Yan, “Have you ever thought of an epitaph for yourself?”

Qi Yan looked at the sculpture and replied, “I’ve thought about it before. I want it to say, ‘Amidst darkness, I once chased a flicker of light.'”

“Sounds a bit…sad, doesn’t it?” Lu Fenghan slipped his hands into his pockets. “You’re only nineteen now, don’t talk about epitaphs and death. The average lifespan of Alliance humans is over a hundred years. You still have plenty of life ahead.”

He completely forgot that just a few seconds ago, he had asked Qi Yan what epitaph he wanted.

In a hushed tone, Qi Yan replied, “Not necessarily.”

Lu Fenghan’s ears perked up. “What do you mean, ‘not necessarily’?”

Qi Yan made no attempt to respond. Just then, a young man approached, the projection function of his personal terminal activated, displaying a dense array of text. Leaning in, he interjected, “While the average lifespan of Alliance humans may now exceed a century, it wasn’t the case during the era of technological catastrophe! Back then, entire planets were losing populations in the blink of an eye, sometimes entire planets were wiped out!

“Yet, even with such a tragedy as a lesson, it is still not enough. The Alliance still refuses to repent and insists on vigorously developing technology, pouring countless resources and manpower into it every single year!”

Arching an eyebrow, Lu Fenghan questioned, “Are you in support of the rebellion?”

The young man chuckled. “I support no one. I merely oppose the Alliance’s relentless pursuit of technology, leading themselves down a path of self-destruction!”

Lu Fenghan nodded towards the young man’s wrist, where the personal terminal rested. “If the Alliance ceased its technological advancement, where would your personal terminal come from? The food you eat every day is cultivated from seeds grown in laboratories and harvested in mass. You can stand here unscathed, discussing these illogical matters with me, because the entire capital star is enveloped by a defense network devised by scientists, impervious to even a single shell. And,”

He gestured towards the sculpture of Lu Jun behind him.

“He and his starship vanished beneath the rebels’ cannons. How dare you stand here and tell us that you oppose the Alliance’s development of technology? If the defense level of Lu Jun’s starship was the same as it is now, the rebel army’s cannon wouldn’t have killed him.”

Lu Fenghan’s tone remained eerily calm, yet an underlying fierceness seemed to radiate naturally from him, like a sword thirsting for blood, capable of piercing straight into one’s heart.

“You—”

Unconsciously, the young man took a step back, still intending to say something, but Lu Fenghan disdainfully interrupted, “Moreover, you believe whatever the rebels say. Do you know what they’re plotting behind the scenes? Perhaps your mind got lost in a wormhole during interstellar travel and forgot to come back?”

This brilliant remark made Qi Yan couldn’t help but glance at Lu Fenghan.

And silently, he made a mental note—this was his weak point. Perhaps he could use it directly in the future.

The young man dared not linger any longer. He turned on his heel and briskly walked away, searching for his next target to “proselytize”.

After finishing his argument, Lu Fenghan felt refreshed. He looked back at Lu Jun’s eyes that were looking into the distance and thought to himself, “You still serve a purpose—good for illustration, with remarkable effect.”

The sky had darkened, and the twin moons appeared in the canopy as the crowd began to converge towards the center of the square.

Qi Yan: “What are they looking at?”

“The renowned fountain performance in the Central Region is about to begin. It’s said to be inspired by Earth’s shadow puppetry, using water to form characters, with water curtains and holographic projections creating the backdrop. Each day of the year, there’s a different show. Want to check it out?”

As the crowd thickened towards the center of the square, Lu Fenghan shielded people by his side, relying on his imposing presence to forcibly bring Qi Yan to the front row.

The fountain had already started its transformation. A hint of moisture lingered in the air. During the pause, Qi Yan asked Lu Fenghan, “Have you seen this before?”

“I’ve never seen it. When I was young, my parents were busy and didn’t have time to bring me here. Then they died, and there was no one else to bring me. After that, I went to school. During my rebellious phase, I looked down on these things meant to amuse children.”

Later on, he left Leto to go to the front lines in the Southern Cross Region and never returned.

This was the first time they had talked about their past and families.

Qi Yan nodded. “I haven’t seen it either. I’ll accompany you.”

Someone pushed forward from behind. Lu Fenghan stepped aside, half shielding Qi Yan behind him, and asked with lowered eyes, “Are you trying to comfort me?”

Standing close, he noticed a very faint mole on Qi Yan’s earlobe, like a brush tip dipped in water, leaving only a trace of ink on the paper, not easily noticeable.

Somehow, because of this small discovery, Lu Fenghan felt contented.

At that moment, the crowd exclaimed, and the light in front began to change, unveiling a transparent and dreamlike world before everyone’s eyes.

Lu Fenghan glanced at it for half a minute before his gaze involuntarily shifted back to Qi Yan.

Qi Yan watched intently, as if trying to etch this scene into his memory. The dazzling lights reflected in his pupils, reminding Lu Fenghan inexplicably of the distant and beautiful nebulae in the universe.

He looked away, past the countless faces filled with joy and contentment, towards the direction of the sculptures, thinking, “Only for the Alliance.” Perhaps, light-years away, the aim of the Expeditionary Force, facing the rebel cannons, was to protect and defend this simple tranquility.

Returning home from the Diamond Sky Plaza, Lu Fenghan loosely gripped the control lever and asked Qi Yan, “What are you thinking? You’ve been staring blankly, your eyes haven’t even moved.”

Perhaps due to his good looks, Qi Yan resembled that of an exquisitely crafted humanoid figure, as if made by 3D printing.

Qi Yan snapped out of his reverie. “I was reminiscing about the fountain performance we just watched.”

“You enjoyed it that much? We can come watch it again next time.”

“No need,” Qi Yan shook his head, “I’ve already memorized it. I can recall it whenever I want to see it again.”

Lu Fenghan had encountered many individuals with eidetic memory, so he wasn’t particularly surprised by Qi Yan’s statement. He casually asked, “You mean you can remember everything you’ve seen?”

“Yes, everything I’ve seen, I can remember.”

Lu Fenghan realized that Qi Yan wasn’t just practicing turning pages when he was flipping through the reader so quickly.

“What if it’s something very painful that you want to forget but can’t? Isn’t it distressing?”

Qi Yan didn’t directly answer the question. After a moment’s pause, he whispered, “That’s why forgetting is a gift from fate.”

Turan Academy’s opening date was set for second day of September.

The day before the school started, Xia Zhiyang and Chen Mingxuan gathered at Qi Yan’s house. Chen Mingxuan was engrossed in playing games while Xia Zhiyang lamented over the unfinished homework, deeming it worse than death.

“Have you guys noticed that there’s been an increase in people outside recently? Many students from outside Leto are coming early, especially from the remote planets of Messier and Kepler Regions. They’re afraid of accidents, and it’s said they might even come one or two weeks early.”

Xia Zhiyang typed and talked at the same time, a model of multitasking.

Qi Yan sat nearby, reading a book, and casually asked, “The rebels?”

“Not really. The chances of encountering rebels are quite slim. They’re a bit too far away from here.”

After finishing typing a page, Xia Zhiyang clicked submit and swiftly opened another page, continuing, “It’s an issue with the space lanes. Most of the civilian space lanes connecting the Central Region and other regions were built before the technological catastrophe. Then, in the blink of an eye, most of the lanes were destroyed. So the lanes in use now are all patched up and barely maintained, with occasional glitches.

“Three years ago, a few sophomores traveled to Leto by starship and encountered a problem with the space lane during the wormhole jump. They said they were only stuck in the wormhole for eight hours, but when they came out, they found out they had missed half of Turan’s curriculum.”

Chen Mingxuan: “Then, for the rest of the semester, they were always catching up on course progress and assignments. They looked like they were on the brink of death every day with dark circles under their eyes until they barely managed to get a passing grade by the end of the term.”

“Exactly! It was a real catastrophe!” Xia Zhiyang added, taking the opportunity to educate Qi Yan, “Although you can pay your way into Turan, if you end up getting several Ds at the end of the term, you’ll still have to pack up and leave.”

He advised Qi Yan again, “If you find yourself struggling to keep up after school starts, make sure to apply for a demotion! It might be embarrassing, but it’s better than being expelled!”

Qi Yan nodded. “Okay, got it. But I won’t fall behind.”

He had just glanced at Xia Zhiyang’s homework, and found the questions covering only the most basic concepts.

There was no difficulty.

“Alright,” Xia Zhiyang rubbed his aching hands and sighed, “Just thinking about bumping into Jiang Qi often at school after the semester starts… my heart feels heavy!”

Chen Mingxuan: “He’s also majoring in AI like us. We might end up in the same building. And if you have a common lecture together—”

“We might even be in the same classroom?” Xia Zhiyang’s mood for homework vanished completely, his expression serious. “I believe the Alliance should implement distance education urgently!”

The next day, the school sent out all textbook materials to everyone’s personal terminals. Qi Yan skimmed through them all and set them aside, continuing the modeling he hadn’t finished in the past two days.

The hovercar stopped outside Turan Academy’s gates, and the doors slid open to both sides as Qi Yan stepped out.

Because it was the first day of school, the entrance was bustling with people and vehicles, but as Qi Yan emerged, the chatter nearby dipped a few notches, replaced by a wave of curious stares directed at him.

Lu Fenghan activated the autopilot system, allowing the hovercar to find a parking spot on its own. He stood tall beside Qi Yan, blocking out most of the curious stares.

Resembling a fierce jungle beast guarding a rare flower, he exuded a subtle aura of disapproval towards the gawking crowd.

Stepping through the gate, he found the ground wet and the leaves dripping with water. It had clearly just rained.

Qi Yan turned around, comparing the dry ground outside the school gates.

“Did you think you were seeing things? Hahaha, the school just finished raining, with rainfall precisely controlled within Turan’s area.”

Xia Zhiyang hurriedly caught up from behind. “You guys got here too quickly! Weren’t we supposed to leave together? I’m much closer than you guys!”

Qi Yan glanced silently at Lu Fenghan.

Someone, while driving the hovercar, always triggered the car’s alarm system due to excessive speed.

Lu Fenghan couldn’t help but sigh every time he heard about Turan’s vast territory, where even the rain seemed to fall in perfect synchronization for ease of management.

Money talks indeed!

In comparison, the so-called “unpredictable weather conditions” at the First Military Academy was just an excuse to “train your on-the-spot reaction and response abilities. Alliance soldiers must be able to fight bravely regardless of the weather, be it scorching sun or heavy snow!”

In reality, it all boiled down to the fact that they didn’t have the money to buy a climate monitoring and control system.

Despite being separated only by a river, the gap between wealth and poverty drew a divide as vast as the galaxy!

The three of them walked together, with Xia Zhiyang leading the way, introducing the layout of the school buildings to Qi Yan.

“Turan Academy was the first school established after humans settled in Leto. It’s said that initially, there were only a few buildings, but it kept expanding and expanding to reach its current size. Because even roadside sculptures here are considered antiques and worth a lot of money, our school is also known as the ‘First Noble House of Leto!'”

Lu Fenghan lazily said, “Isn’t it the ‘First Corrupt Establishment of Leto,’ or ‘Alliance’s Strongest Spendthrift’?”

Xia Zhiyang flushed like he’d been pricked in the foot, his baby face turning red with anger. “That’s slander! It’s a smear campaign deliberately orchestrated by the First Military Academy across the river! Turan and their First Military Academy are sworn enemies!”

He then wondered, “But how did you know?”

Lu Fenghan nonchalantly replied, “Heard it from someone else.”

At that moment, he caught sight of Qi Yan’s slightly furrowed brow.

“What’s wrong?”

Qi Yan: “My shoelace came undone.”

It was only then that Lu Fenghan noticed Qi Yan’s white shoelace trailing on the ground, already dirty from being dragged — the ground was damp from the recent heavy rain, with plenty of dried leaves and mud spots.

After a month of being together, Lu Fenghan realized that his employer wasn’t just a bit delicate but also extremely fastidious. Not only fastidious but also prone to minor cleanliness quirks.

Plus, his life skills were close to zero.

“Hold this,” Lu Fenghan said, handing the water cup he was holding to Qi Yan.

Qi Yan took it from him.

Then Lu Fenghan was seen squatting in front of him, preparing to tie his shoelaces.

Holding the warm cup, Qi Yan asked, “Can you do a bowknot?”

So demanding.

With a rare curse muttered in his mind, Lu Fenghan deftly tied a bowknot for Qi Yan.


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Limited Ambiguity

Limited Ambiguity

限定暧昧
Score 8.6
Status: Ongoing Type: Author: , Native Language: Chinese
At the age of nineteen, when Qi Yan returned to the Qi family, the rumor mill spun eight hundred tragic tales about his past. Soon, people noticed that he had a bodyguard by his side, accompanying him everywhere. ———— At a banquet, someone saw Lu Fenghan standing next to the Supreme Commander, drawing a circle of admirers around him. “This young general looks familiar…” “He looks a lot like the former bodyguard of the young master of the Qi family!” “How could General Lu stoop to being someone’s bodyguard? Ridiculous!”

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  1. Stephanie says:

    Thanks for the update

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