Chapter 36
Lu Fenghan was very unfamiliar with being comforted, or rather, he had no concept of it at all.
It was a bit like the feeling he had when he first sat in the starship simulator when he was in school, unsure where to put his hands, cautious yet exhilarated.
This was the first time in his life.
He couldn’t remember anyone ever comforting him before. His parents were always busy, and although there was a nanny robot programmed to offer comfort, he found it too bothersome and noisy. Every time his parents left, he would quickly turn off the robot to prevent it from making a fuss and causing the system board to malfunction.
Later, when his parents died in battle, Lu Fenghan’s guardianship was transferred to Nie Huaiting. He entered the First Military Academy, joined the Expeditionary Force, and lost once, only to win back even more ruthlessly. When he was injured, he would injure the enemy even more severely. He even had to carefully hide all his pain and blood, lest it be discovered and become a weakness.
So it was not until this moment that Lu Fenghan realized what it was like to be comforted.
With his fingertips pressed against Qi Yan’s lips, Lu Fenghan asked in a complicated tone, “What if you can’t comfort me?”
Qi Yan didn’t seem to have thought about it. With a slightly bewildered eyes, he bypassed the question, asking Lu Fenghan instead, “Well… are you comforted?”
Lu Fenghan chuckled softly, the spark ignited by the cigarette reflecting in his eyes, glaringly bright, like a wildfire.
He deliberately said, “Would you comfort me a little more?”
Carefully examining Lu Fenghan’s expression, Qi Yan judged, “You’re not sad anymore.”
So, no more comforting?
Somewhat regretful, Lu Fenghan let go of Qi Yan’s chin and put his arm around his shoulder. “It’s windy outside, shall we go in?”
Qi Yan: “Finish your cigarette first before going in, or it’ll feel stuffy.”
“Got it, Little Delicate.”
Lu Fenghan’s emotions had completely calmed down, and he didn’t need to smoke anymore, but this cigarette was lit by Qi Yan, so he insisted on waiting until the cigarette burned to the last inch before throwing away the bare stub.
The frontpage headline of Leto Daily’s late October issue had practically become the military’s battleground. Even Ye Pei, immersed in her data analysis, was aware of it. The Ministry of Finance demanded cuts to military expenditure, targeting the Expeditionary Force, which had suffered two consecutive defeats.
Meanwhile, Klimo’s henchmen repeatedly wrote articles accusing Four-Star General Nie Huaiting of being a warmonger with malicious intent. They argued for a ceasefire and strategic rest to preserve strength, claiming that pouring vast sums of credits into the Expeditionary Force without tangible returns would only weaken the Alliance.
Each morning as Qi Yan ate his breakfast, he could already discern from Lu Fenghan’s expression the probable content and direction of today’s headline in the Leto Daily.
Lu Fenghan exited the page of the Leto Daily, vexed by the messy and illogical arguments. “Why are there always some people who think they’re so clever and believe they have everything under control?”
His voice was cold and hard, his mood noticeably sour.
Qi Yan: “Because people who think they’re clever will never admit they’re just acting smart. They believe they’re actually very intelligent.”
“Makes sense.” The pro-peace faction always used the two defeats of the Expeditionary Force as an excuse, yet their hands were never clean in those losses.
Checking the time on his personal terminal, Qi Yan recalled something. “Xavier exchanged contact information with me.”
Lu Fenghan’s train of thought was abruptly derailed. “Why would he exchange contact information with you? You’re at Turan Academy, and he’s at the First Military Academy.”
It was undoubtedly with malicious intent.
At the same time, Xavier’s image flashed through his mind. He thought to himself, “He’s already in the fourth year, yet barely achieving full marks in the simulated tactical class this semester. What was he doing before? His emotional control ability is not strong enough, and he gets red eyes over a small matter.”
Qi Yan: “He mentioned you resemble that commander, but he didn’t dare ask for your contact, so he asked for mine.”
“Did he now?” Lu Fenghan decided to speculate on Xavier’s intentions to the greatest extent possible. Maybe he was using me as an excuse? Therefore, he told Qi Yan, “He doesn’t seem clever enough. You two probably won’t have much to talk about.”
Qi Yan was puzzled. Just the other night at the gathering, it was evident Lu Fenghan appreciated Xavier. Why the sudden change today?
At that moment, Lu Fenghan began to understand the mentality of the evil dragons in the stories.
Carefully guarding the rare treasure under his claws, someone foolishly wanted to snatch it away.
How to not get annoyed?
Just before heading out, Qi Yan said, “Yesterday, as I was leaving school, I ran into Xia Zhiyang at the school gate—”
Lu Fenghan draped the windbreaker he held over Qi Yan’s shoulders, correcting him, “You didn’t run into Xia Zhiyang yesterday.”
Qi Yan slid his hand into the sleeve of his coat, then extended it to Lu Fenghan, gesturing for him to straighten the cuff. “He told me it would rain today. Is that real?”
“That statement?” Lu Fenghan pondered. “I think he mentioned it to you a few days ago in the classroom? But his weather forecasts are often wrong. It hasn’t rained in Leto these past few days.”
With no buttons fastened, the khaki windbreaker half-covered the white shirt underneath. Qi Yan loosened the collar of his shirt with one hand, revealing the slender lines of his neck, and then asked, “Do you find it annoying? I often remember things wrong and keep asking you.”
Lu Fenghan pinched Qi Yan’s cheek. “What nonsense are you thinking again? You ask, and I’m happy to answer.”
Qi Yan: “Why’s that?”
Lu Fenghan headed out without replying.
Because you’re wary of others, yet you show no hesitation in front of me. You believe in every judgment I make, questioning none of my answers—this is unparalleled trust.
It even makes me worry. What would become of you if I were to leave?
Qi Yan and Lu Fenghan went together to Leto’s starport.
Blaine from Bergson Academy was departing for Woz Star today, and Ye Pei suggested that everyone accompany her.
Despite Woz Star being relatively close to Leto, perhaps the concept of ascending into the vastness of the cosmos made humans feel exceedingly insignificant, fostering a fear of being light-years apart.
Ye Pei had quickly become close friends with Blaine. Amidst the bustling crowd, the two chattered away, making plans to send each other items after their return.
Xavier, looking like he hadn’t slept well, yawned. “Ye Pei, you might as well go with Blaine. After all, the journey from Leto to Woz only takes an hour or two by starship.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he noticed Ye Pei looking at him thoughtfully.
Xavier blinked in confusion. “Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something remarkable?”
Ye Pei suddenly burst into laughter. “You’re absolutely right! Let’s go together! It’s the 29th today, and your school doesn’t have classes tomorrow, right? Let’s go, a two-day trip to Woz!”
Blaine also laughed. “Although Woz isn’t as developed or advanced as Leto, its natural scenery is beautiful. Would you like to join us?”
Xavier hadn’t fully processed it yet. “Hmm… I guess… there’s really no problem?”
After exchanging glances, Mondrian finally spoke up, “Let’s go together.”
It didn’t feel quite real to Qi Yan until he boarded the starship. He whispered to Lu Fenghan, “Are we really… going to Woz now?”
Lu Fenghan responded with a simple “Hmm.” “Don’t want to go?” he added.
“No, I don’t mind going. It’s just… so surreal,” Qi Yan voiced his thoughts, “I used to be very organized, had everything planned out, followed a strict schedule.”
Lu Fenghan understood. “Is this your first spontaneous trip?”
“Yes.” Qi Yan gazed out the porthole at the colossal emblem of the Alliance. “Aside from where I live, I’ve only ever been to Leto.”
Lu Fenghan’s heart twinged slightly as he guessed, “Because it’s not safe?”
“Yes, it’s too dangerous,” Qi Yan replied without any hint of resentment.
It was evident that Qi Yan cherished and anticipated this impromptu journey.
Helping Qi Yan fasten his seatbelt, Lu Fenghan said as he lowered his head, “I’ll go with you wherever you want to go in the future. Then it won’t be dangerous.”
The starship navigated through civilian lanes, experiencing a brief turbulence before suddenly lightening, as if the entire starship was floating like a thin leaf on the surface of the sea.
Due to last-minute ticket purchases, several people found themselves seated apart. Qi Yan was separated by the aisle from Ye Pei and Blaine.
Ye Pei leaned against the porthole, her gaze fixed on the distant stars. “Every time I board a starship, I can’t help but ponder the greatness and insignificance of humanity.”
Blaine nodded. “Me too. When you think about it, the space lanes, starships, starmap, and jump points are all inventions and discoveries made by humanity, which fills me with pride.”
Ye Pei exclaimed, “Yes, exactly! You understand what I mean! It’s like the Age of Exploration on Earth! Discovering new continents, constantly improving maps!” She laughed. “If I were born in that era, I’d definitely be a captain!”
Blaine: “Then I’ll be the helmsman! Let’s explore new continents together!”
As the starship advanced, the various debris floating in space gradually transformed from tiny specks into colossal objects.
These were all traces of the Great Technological Catastrophe.
After the collapse of the spatial source, massive explosions occurred, and the majority of the debris floated aimlessly. The Alliance had once attempted to clean it up, but the task proved too immense, so remnants of these “historical artifacts” were often seen along the space lanes.
As they approached the jump point, the indicator lights inside the starship gradually dimmed, the propulsion engines shutting down one by one, and the faint vibrations beneath their feet ceased.
A broadcast announced the commencement of preparations for the upcoming wormhole jump, reminding all passengers to stay alert and prepare for safety.
In the dim light, Lu Fenghan noticed Qi Yan’s subtle grip on the armrest. “What’s wrong?”
Qi Yan pursed his lips. “I get motion sickness during wormhole jumps,” he confessed, adding an explanation, “I only discovered this issue when traveling from the Messier Region to Leto.”
Lu Fenghan smiled softly, prying Qi Yan’s fingers loose from the cold metal of the armrest and placing them on his own left wrist. “The armrests are too hard. Your fingers might hurt. If you’re nervous, you can hold onto my wrist.”
Qi Yan’s fingertips curled slightly, hesitating before lightly resting on Lu Fenghan’s wrist.
Unlike him, Lu Fenghan seemed oblivious to what coldness was, as if his body temperature remained warm at all times.
Above his wrist, firm muscles hinted at hidden strength. The lines flowed upwards, disappearing into the folds of his loosely rolled up sleeves.
It was just a simple touch, yet Qi Yan’s breath hitched. His palm felt like it had been scorched, tingling his nerves with unexpected sensitivity.
He tried to avert his gaze to the view outside the porthole, imagining the monotonous play of light and shadows within the twisting vortex of the wormhole.
Lu Fenghan felt a bit warm. He loosened his collar with his free right hand, yet the sensation of heat persisted.
Then his gaze landed at the hand resting on his wrist. This hand obviously couldn’t grip the starship’s control lever, fire a gun, or repair a cannon barrel, but—
It was very attractive.
White, slender, with evenly proportioned joints.
It was simply impossible to ignore.
Neither of them spoke again.
At the moment the starship entered the wormhole, the fingers loosely resting on Lu Fenghan’s wrist tightened, and Qi Yan’s complexion turned pale.
He closed his eyes, adjusting his breathing, striving to adapt to the sudden palpitations.
The interplay of light and shadow delineated the contours of Qi Yan’s straight nose bridge and the line between his lips, giving off a subdued vulnerability.
After a few seconds, Lu Fenghan abruptly lifted his hand, covering half of Qi Yan’s face.
The lips left uncovered was a pale pink, lacking the flush of blood. Lu Fenghan was shock to realize that Qi Yan’s lip line was delicate and beautiful.
The person beneath his palm asked, “Why are you covering my eyes?”
Lu Fenghan couldn’t explain.
He was even more uncertain why he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Qi Yan’s lower lip, as if enchanted.
Not receiving an answer, Qi Yan didn’t persistently inquire either.
It wasn’t until Lu Fenghan thought of a reason that he responded, “Don’t you want to sleep for a while?”
Qi Yan murmured a soft “Hmm.”
Retrieving the noise-canceling earplugs provided on the starship, Lu Fenghan carefully inserted them on Qi Yan’s ears. Afterwards, he felt the delicate brush of soft eyelashes against his palm. The tingling sensation coursed through his nerves, reaching straight to the tip of his heart.
However, it wasn’t long before Qi Yan woke from his nap. His first instinct was to look towards Lu Fenghan, silently questioning what had happened.
Inside the starship, there was complete silence, the atmosphere heavy. Outside the porthole, the light and shadows of the wormhole twisted and contorted.
Lu Fenghan removed the noise-canceling earplugs and placed them back in their original position. “We’ve encountered space pirates.”
Qi Yan immediately grasped the situation. “Are they inside the starship too?”
Lu Fenghan’s gaze darkened. “Yes, they’ve infiltrated as passengers and are currently searching for someone. There are six in total, each armed.”
Only the sound of footsteps echoed through the cabin, like the heavy tread of military boots on the ground. Judging by the rhythm, there were currently two individuals moving within the cabin.
Qi Yan didn’t dare to glance around recklessly. “Who are they looking for?”
Lu Fenghan: “It’s likely Y. Vincent mentioned that the rebels are intensively tracking down Y’s whereabouts, but they’ve identified several suspected targets, all of which turned out to be false leads.”
Qi Yan’s focus shifted. “The rebels and space pirates… are in cooperation?” He almost whispered the last few words.
Lu Fenghan nodded. “Most likely. However, it’s not called cooperation, it’s called—”
Qi Yan: “Collusion?”
Lu Fenghan couldn’t resist pinching Qi Yan’s cheek again.
Qi Yan frowned. “Why do you always like to pinch me?”
Lu Fenghan, instead of feeling guilty, responded nonchalantly, “It feels good.”
At that moment, a space pirate carrying a gun passed by Qi Yan and Lu Fenghan’s seats, two weapons strapped to his waist, his hand holding a gun, and a half-mask covering his face.
Lu Fenghan noticed that aside from asking a few questions since waking up, Qi Yan’s expression hadn’t changed much. He asked him, “Aren’t you afraid?”
“Not afraid, I have you.” Qi Yan tugged at the sleeve of the person next to him and leaned close to Lu Fenghan’s ear, whispering, “Are they looking for Y for the control system?”
“Most likely,” Lu Fenghan replied, still feeling a tingling sensation in his ear.
The instigator remained completely unaware, lost in thought.
Just then, a space pirate who had been patrolling the aisle stopped, pressing his ear. Lu Fenghan speculated that there might be a built-in communicator there.
A few seconds later, he heard the person gesture towards another person at the back of the cabin.
Lu Fenghan recognized the gesture, which conveyed only one thing—they had found what they were looking for.
Then, the two of them quickly proceeded to the front cabin.
Lu Fenghan’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Qi Yan once again gripped Lu Fenghan’s wrist, his voice low but determined.
“They didn’t find Y.”
Lu Fenghan looked over. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. The person they caught isn’t Y.” Qi Yan hesitated for two seconds before giving a somewhat illogical reason, “Y isn’t aboard this starship.”
Lu Fenghan: “If it’s, there are two possibilities: either the space pirates have incorrect intelligence and got the wrong person, or this is a trap set up against the pirates.”
But Qi Yan’s attention was elsewhere. “Do you trust me?”
Learning that it wasn’t Y who was caught, Lu Fenghan relaxed, lazily responding, “If I don’t trust you, I would’ve thrown you into the brig long ago.”
Lu Fenghan was never one to sit idly by, especially now that the space pirates had captured someone. Regardless of whether that person was Y or not, it was a life at stake.
Once free from the surveillance of the space pirates, many things could be done.
He asked Qi Yan, “Can you access the starship’s surveillance system? I want to see what the situation is like now. Of course, your safety comes first.”
Meaning, if there was a risk of being discovered by space pirates, then he shouldn’t do it.
Qi Yan lowered his head to operate his personal terminal. Soon, the surveillance footage was projected into the air. In the palm-sized display, the six pirates who boarded the starship were all in one place. Standing next to them was a middle-aged man who appeared to be in his forties, presumably the “Y” they thought they had found.
Lu Fenghan only glanced at it briefly before confirming, “This isn’t a setup. They’ve got the wrong person.” He pointed at the middle-aged man in the image. “He’s just an ordinary person, probably never received any training on how to handle dangerous situations.”
Qi Yan waited quietly for Lu Fenghan to give the next instruction.
But after a few seconds passed without a response, he raised his eyes, looking puzzled and inquiring.
Lu Fenghan furrowed his brow, studying the footage coming from the surveillance, his gaze fixed on a weapon held by one of the space pirates.
Uncertain of what was happening, two of the space pirates suddenly got into an argument. One of them aimed his weapon at the other, with his finger already on the trigger.
Suddenly, Lu Fenghan shouted loudly, “Everyone press the square button on the right armrest five times! Immediately! The starship is about to explode!”
At the same time, he swiftly unfastened Qi Yan’s safety restraints and pulled him into his arms. Then, with lightning speed, he pressed the square button five times with his right hand.
Qi Yan also reacted.
The internal structure of the wormhole was extremely unstable. If that space pirate fired at his accomplices in anger, causing micro-force fluctuations greater than 470, it would disturb the entire wormhole like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. And any starship traversing this wormhole would immediately be torn apart!
Following the successive “beep” sounds, the electronic announcement of “in position” sounded one after another, and the seats turned into emergency escape pods.
Immediately after, numerous people exclaimed loudly. The metal plates on the top of the starship seemed to be torn open by a giant monster’s sharp claws, exposing all humans to the extreme dangers of space!
At that moment, the fear surging in their hearts made everyone realize that in space, they were even less significant than ants building nests by the river!
The next second, Lu Fenghan’s rough palm pressed firmly against the back of Qi Yan’s head, holding him tightly against his chest, preventing him from witnessing this horrifying scene.
With a deafening “boom”, Qi Yan felt himself being violently thrown, like a piece of gravel splashing down from the top of a waterfall!
Around him, the metal shell of the starship had been shattered into pieces, and some materials were even rapidly melting.
But Lu Fenghan didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest.
Just before losing consciousness, Qi Yan knew with absolute clarity—Lu Fenghan was protecting him.
A/N: The interstellar jump in this story uses the theory of wormhole traversal. Eevrything else is fictional~don’t delve too deep into it, hahaha!
If you enjoy this novel, support the Translator ginevre on her ko-fi account :))
Thanks for the chapter! Poor little Delicate, he can’t go on a little trip without an attack happening.