Chapter 43.1
The upper echelons of the military were in turmoil, but for Turan Academy, today was no different from yesterday. On the contrary, there was a lively discussion everywhere because the New Year was approaching.
Before the professor officially started the class, he mentioned Y first, “Y open-sourced seven new tool models last night. Students can go and have a look. They should be useful in the future.”
Xia Zhiyang’s eyes lit up at the mention of Y. He raised his hand and asked loudly, “Professor, I read on the Starnet that the rebels are everywhere looking for Y! Is he okay these days?”
The professor joked, “That’s one of the hardest questions I’ve ever been asked in my teaching career. To be honest, I’d also like to know if Y is doing well, if he’s happy, and if he’s sick.”
“I, I…” Xia Zhiyang scratched the back of his head. “Then, Professor, are you okay?”
The wrinkles at the corners of the professor’s eyes folded as he chuckled. “I’m doing fine. I’ve already prepared new sweaters to wear on New Year’s Day, and I’ve also bought new clothes for the day of the Alliance’s foundation day.”
As the class began, Xia Zhiyang’s ears turned red. He turned around and whispered to Qi Yan, “So embarrassing! So embarrassing! So embarrassing! How did I ask that question?!”
Qi Yan tried to comfort him, “The class is starting now. Everyone will forget what you said.”
Pinching the metal ring on his earlobe, Xia Zhiyang looked around, and indeed everyone had started listening to the lecture.
While several snowfalls had graced Turan, the world beyond its walls remained eerily still. Every time Qi Yan crossed the school gates, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat uneasy.
He brushed off the snowflakes clinging to his shoe soles and asked Lu Fenghan, “Did it snow at your previous school?”
“No,” Lu Fenghan replied bluntly, showing no deference to the First Military Academy across the river. “At our school… even if there’s a weather control system, it wouldn’t snow. Because if it snows, we’d have to shovel it. To shovel it, we’d need snow-clearing robots. To use robots, we’d need energy supply. To have energy supply, we’d need money.”
Qi Yan’s eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement. “So, it doesn’t snow because it costs money?”
“Exactly, no money.” Lu Fenghan laughed, recalling the strictness of the First Military Academy. “But if we really had to shovel snow, the school would probably make all the students do it together, under the guise of strengthening exercise, but in reality, it’s just to save money.”
Perhaps that’s why the entire command ship of the Expeditionary Force acted as if they had never seen money before—there were simply too many graduates from the First Military Academy. Their greed for money once made Lu Fenghan think he was leading a pack of pirates.
Before going to bed, Qi Yan brought the game terminal of “Imperial Glory” to Lu Fenghan’s bedroom.
Lu Fenghan had recently intensified his physical training. He wore only a black tank top, revealing his broad shoulders and toned muscles. His legs, encased in black trousers, were both sleek and attractive.
Sweat glistened at his temple as Lu Fenghan paused from doing one-handed push-ups, pushing himself up effortlessly and grinning. “Looking to play games with me?”
“Yes,” Qi Yan struggled to come up with an excuse, “there’s one level I can’t pass.”
Lu Fenghan stepped closer. “Alright, let me see.”
As he handed over the game terminal, Qi Yan felt enveloped in a rich aura of hormones.
He felt compelled to open his eyes.
Lounging against the headboard with one leg stretched out lazily, Lu Fenghan opened the game screen. “A strategic level?”
Qi Yan knelt on the other side of the bed. “Yes, I’ve failed several times. Can you help me?”
After Lu Fenghan reviewed the game rules, he quickly figured out how to tackle this small level. It was odd though. Qi Yan shouldn’t have struggled with it.
Despite thinking so, Lu Fenghan remained silent.
Playing the game together, they lost track of time and it was already midnight. In their close proximity, Lu Fenghan poked Qi Yan’s forehead with his fingertip. “Time to sleep. Let’s not stay up late tonight, okay?”
“Okay.”
Seeing Qi Yan holding onto the game device without any intention of getting off the bed, Lu Fenghan waited for ten seconds. “Do you want to—”
Qi Yan’s eyes met his, clear and unclouded.
Lu Fenghan sighed inwardly.
Dressed in a nightgown, obviously having finished grooming, Qi Yan intentionally brought the game terminal to him.
“Wanna bunk together?”
Before Qi Yan could respond, Lu Fenghan hastily concocted another excuse, “I suddenly feel a bit afraid of the dark tonight.”
Qi Yan set aside the game terminal and agreed, “Okay.”
Lu Fenghan turned off the main light, leaving a small night light in the corner. Though the difference between light and darkness was negligible, it somewhat supported his spur-of-the-moment fear of the dark.
Lying down, Lu Fenghan could easily see Qi Yan with just a slight turn of his head.
Qi Yan exuded a relaxed softness, appearing incredibly at ease.
Resting one hand behind his head, Lu Fenghan wondered if Qi Yan’s sudden coquettish act stemmed from his impending departure.
He blurted out without preamble, “Did your previous place have a weather control system?”
If it did, they should have set it to avoid thunderstorms in the future.
Then Little Delicate wouldn’t have trouble sleeping and getting scared.
In the dim light, Qi Yan’s eyes seemed to shimmer with a misty haze as he nodded. “It did before, but it broke down later.”
“Wasn’t it repaired?”
“It was fixed, then broke again, and eventually, we just stopped fixing it,” Qi Yan explained. “Elisa said we should try to experience the diversity of nature to avoid mistaking our lives for a virtual world, while Jamie argued for fostering reverence for nature. In the final vote on whether to repair the weather control system, the majority chose not to.”
Perhaps it was the softness of the night, or some unspoken emotion or concern that drove Lu Fenghan to ask Qi Yan, “Where did you live before?”
He realized that his question might have crossed a boundary.
Qi Yan also understood that Lu Fenghan wasn’t referring to the address listed in his personal data.
After a long pause, Qi Yan murmured softly, “Lagoon Nebula. I used to live in the Lagoon Nebula.”
Gesturing lightly in the air, he pointed out, “Here is Leto,” then swiped his finger to the side, “and here is the Messier Region.” With a virtual line, he stopped at a certain point. “After passing through five jump points, this is the Lagoon Nebula. This nebula is not large, with very few habitable planets. It has a lot of dust and asteroid belts, quite dangerous but beautiful. Those dust and asteroids, when connected together, look like very thin and light ribbons in the sky.”
Lu Fenghan followed his movements closely, carefully noting the position of the Lagoon Nebula on the starmap in his mind.
When he was back on the front line of the Southern Cross Region in the future, at least he would know which direction to look when thinking of this person.
He promised again, “I won’t tell anyone the location of the Lagoon Nebula.”
Qi Yan simply replied with a “Hmm.”
Silence settled once more.
Assuming Qi Yan was drifting off to sleep, Lu Fenghan, despite not feeling drowsy himself, closed his eyes.
Not long after, the person beside him shifted slowly, moving closer to his position and turning to face away.
Though it was just a small movement, it felt as significant as a falling leaf gently landing on the water’s surface or a wild goose gliding over snow.
Lu Fenghan closed his eyes, turned on his side, and wrapped his arms around Qi Yan from behind.
He felt Qi Yan tense for a moment but didn’t resist or move away.
He had crossed a line.
But then Lu Fenghan tried to justify his actions—
It’s because I’m a bit afraid of the dark.
The next morning, Lu Fenghan filled a cup with water and handed it to Qi Yan along with some medicine.
The cup was a gift from Lu Fenghan to Qi Yan, featuring a hand-drawn white rabbit with red eyes.
While Qi Yan appeared consistently reserved and aloof to outsiders, in Lu Fenghan’s eyes, he was not much different from the little rabbit—wanting someone to sleep together with, wanting hugs, wanting to act spoiled. What else could he be but a soft and fluffy little rabbit?
After taking the medicine, Qi Yan curled up on the sofa, slowly flipping through the Leto Daily.
Suddenly, he turned to Lu Fenghan and said, “Come here.”
Lu Fenghan’s clothes were soaked with sweat after exercising. Following Qi Yan’s suggestion, he approached, carrying the heat of his body. “Hmm?”
Qi Yan reached out toward Lu Fenghan.
It was a gesture for seeking a hug.
Lu Fenghan smiled helplessly, bending down to lift Qi Yan up and then sitting on the sofa, allowing Qi Yan to sit on his lap. Almost instantly, he felt the person in his arms relax through the fabric.
Lu Fenghan’s voice was barely a whisper. “Uncomfortable on the sofa?”
Qi Yan half-closed his eyes and made a sound of agreement.
Compared to peers of the same age, Qi Yan was tall enough but thin, with little weight.
Like holding a fluffy cloud.
Lu Fenghan could almost be certain that Qi Yan knew he would leave, hence his unusual behavior.
Almost abnormal dependence and clinginess.
Their noses were almost touching. Lu Fenghan’s voice softened even more. “Finished with Pojun?”
He hadn’t stayed up late last night, nor had he stared at the screen during breakfast.
“Almost there. I’ve applied for the usage rights of the ISOC super-optical computing system Galaxy to run Pojun on it.”
“The Galaxy? The one that occupies the eleventh underground floor?”
“Yes. I’ve designed it with separate modules. To link these modules seamlessly, only the Galaxy can support the massive computation and data load of Pojun.” Qi Yan’s eyes lit up. “But Pojun is very powerful. Once completed, I’ll extract its data core so that it can fit on ordinary small optical computers.”
Whether Lu Fenghan fully understood or not, he praised without hesitation, “Powerful indeed.”
He wasn’t sure if he was praising the person or Pojun.
After the medication’s side effects subsided, Qi Yan felt a bit more energetic and got up. “Time to go to school.”
Still leaning against the back of the sofa, Lu Fenghan let out a quiet “tsk”— why can’t Turan push the class time back an hour?
Two hours later wouldn’t hurt.
Xia Zhiyang had secured temporary dormitory accommodation at school and hadn’t returned home for the past few days, but he was still well-informed.
“It’s rumored, just rumored, that Uncle—” Given Qi Wenshao’s indifference toward Qi Yan, Xia Zhiyang adjusted his previous address. “Jiang Qi’s dad is sick. They say he’s bedridden every day now, and there are rumors that Jiang Qi’s case is going to trial. The verdict won’t be lenient. He’s too ashamed to show his face. But my mom said he seems genuinely ill. It must be quite serious.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Qi Yan’s personal terminal notified him of new messages.
After Qi Yan finished reading, Xia Zhiyang blinked, feeling that Qi Yan’s gaze toward him was somewhat subtle.
“What’s wrong?”
“The person who sent the message is Qi Wenshao. He said he’s sick and asked me to visit the Qi household.”
Xia Zhiyang was taken aback. “Really? What a coincidence? And why do I feel something’s off? Why would he personally invite you to go to the Qi household?”
Qi Yan also sensed something was amiss.
However, Lu Fenghan suggested, “Shall we go and see? I have a theory that I want to confirm.”
Seeing Qi Yan agree, Xia Zhiyang quickly raised his hand. “Me, me, me, I’ll go with you! Even if it’s a trap, I’m still the heir of the Xia family. I carry some weight!”
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