Wu Shui was puzzled about why he was suddenly interested in this topic.
Just as Su Cha was about to ask a few more questions, the aircraft arrived, and the group was instructed to line up.
“Starting with the lower grades, please board in an orderly fashion.”
Although they had only been away from school for a few days, seeing the fierce eagle statue atop the stone pillar again made everyone feel as if a lifetime had passed.
After returning, they held a commendation ceremony. In the auditorium, the principal gave the opening speech, praising the students for their performance in the Ten-School Tournament. Then the dean took the stage, stressing the need to adjust their mindset and quickly get back into study mode.
“On the morning of the 3rd, we’ll have the opening ceremony, followed by the class placement event, and in the evening, a welcome party.”
The school’s full-participation policy showed itself again — each team from the preliminary matches was required to put on a performance.
Su Cha: “Perfect. One more excuse to delay the start of school.”
Every fiber of his being screamed resistance to school.
The delay in the school’s start had nothing to do with performance rehearsals — a few students from the Ten-School Tournament had been seriously injured and needed recovery time.
Rong Shao shrugged. “Hassle. I’d rather make some robots to perform for us on stage.”
Su Cha rubbed his hands together. “I support that.”
Rong Shao replied dryly, “Me too — but the school doesn’t allow it.”
They really weren’t joking about “full participation.”
As long as he didn’t have to study, Su Cha was full of energy for anything. Now that he had better control over his spiritual power, he seriously began considering the idea of selling food. The problematic food in the desert had been due to the toxic soil and the rush of time — now that they were back in the Imperial Capital, he was confident he could create food that could soothe volatile spiritual energy.
As always, the important announcement came last. The dean said seriously: “Starting today, the StarNet’s simulated battle network will officially open for new students. You’ll soon be entering the spiritual power awakening stage — I hope you all train hard and build up your endurance.”
Su Cha whispered, “What does awakening have to do with endurance?”
“I heard the awakening process can be extremely painful.”
Su Cha paused. “Wait, seriously?”
Why had his own awakening been painless?
Once the commendation ceremony ended, the whole “He’s Here” team went to the cafeteria for a meal — a small team celebration. During it, Su Cha couldn’t wait to start looking up the legal requirements for operating a food business.
Meanwhile, the others were stressing over what to perform for the welcome party. The proud Galan Star students wanted to win at everything — no matter what they did.
“Doing a martial arts performance is too cliché,” Wu Shui suddenly joked. “We can’t exactly perform plant cultivation live, can we?”
Su Cha looked up: “Actually, that’s a great idea. And then we give each judge a sample — casually bribing them. People go soft when you feed them and can’t say no when you give them things. They’ll definitely give us a good score.”
As soon as he finished, no one responded.
Wu Shui even slightly lowered his head.
Su Cha seemed to realize something. His lips moved. “No way.”
It couldn’t be — was he really about to show up just because they mentioned him?
Still, no one said anything. Finally, Ji Tianjin let out a quiet sigh: “Turn around.”
Su Cha stiffly turned around. He was sitting near the door, and the moment he turned his head, he saw the principal and several high-level school officials.
Since he had seen them, he had to greet them politely. Su Cha and the others spoke in unison: “Hello, Principal. Hello, teachers.”
Su Cha silently prayed they hadn’t heard everything he had just said.
“Today’s meal is on me,” one of the officials said with a half-smile. “Since I fed you, you’d better give me a like.”
“……” Beautiful. Prayer failed.
After they left, Wu Shui tried to comfort him: “Look on the bright side—we saved money on lunch.”
Su Cha replied gloomily, “And earned a ‘like’ in return.”
“……”
By the end of the meal, Su Cha—the only one who could actually taste the food—had lost his appetite. No one could come up with any good performance ideas, so they decided that once back at the dorm, everyone would come up with a concept and then vote on which one to use.
As they left the cafeteria, the group went their separate ways—Wu Shui and Liu Xiqin returned to the girls’ dorm, Rong Shao went to buy parts, and Di Yuansi and the others headed back to the combat room. Oddly, Ji Tianjin didn’t go with them but chose to walk back to the dorms with Su Cha. On the way, he suddenly asked: “Something on your mind?”
Su Cha was startled but nodded. “I want to sell some things. I read online that I need a legal guardian.”
This wasn’t like collecting an endorsement fee—it involved a business venture, with all the legal paperwork needing to be signed by a guardian, who would also bear responsibility if anything went wrong later.
“That’s not hard,” Ji Tianjin said. “Fill out a form and hand it to the administrator. The school will review and submit it. Once your file enters the system, interested candidates will reach out to you.”
Su Cha: “The school needs to approve it?”
Ji Tianjin: “Your case is a bit special. Normally, it’s approved by an orphanage or a local agency.”
The application form could be downloaded online. Su Cha printed a copy and started filling it out—it was mostly basic personal information.
He shook his head while writing. He wasn’t used to the idea of suddenly having a stranger as family, but he still had a long way to go before reaching adulthood. Unless he sold goods illegally on the black market, he couldn’t avoid needing a guardian.
After finishing the form, Su Cha went to find Li Huai.
When Li Huai saw the form placed in front of him, he raised his brows slightly. “I’ll send this to the principal’s office before the afternoon.”
Su Cha didn’t leave right away. Instead, he shyly brought out a flower pot. “I promised to give you this.” Then, carefully testing the waters, he added, “There aren’t many kids as talented and versatile as me these days, right?”
He smiled awkwardly, as if choosing every word with great care. Even his usually untamed silver hair was obediently lying flat today.
The flower on the table seemed to share his thoughts—it wobbled gently, as if saying, “This kid’s really not bad.”
Li Huai understood the implication but didn’t give a direct answer on the spot. He simply told him to go back for now.
Su Cha: “Then I’ll head out first.”
He turned back three times as he left, and even walked up the stairs out of sync like a cartoon character.
Su Cha was good at many things—except asking for favors. He preferred fair trades. But the situation now was special. Letting a stranger be his guardian brought too many uncertainties. Among everyone he knew, only Yise and Li Huai came to mind.
Yise was a general. If Su Cha proactively asked to be adopted by him, it would feel like social climbing. That left only Li Huai as a realistic candidate.
He’d done all he could. The rest was up to fate.
Back in the dorm, Su Cha stopped thinking about the guardian matter. He sat at his desk and stared at the name Shen Ningze on his communicator. That pitiful, endearing air from earlier disappeared, and his smile gradually faded.
After a pause, he sent a message: [The league is finally over. So tired.]
This time, Shen Ningze was slow to reply. It wasn’t until evening that a message came back: [I watched the livestream. You were amazing!]
He added that he’d caught a cold and hadn’t seen the message earlier.
Su Cha: [A heat-induced cold?]
Shen Ningze: [Maybe. My health isn’t great—could be a complication of something.]
That evening, the clouds were painted with color, burning across the sky in one of the most beautiful moments of the day—second only to sunrise.
Su Cha occasionally glanced out the window to enjoy the view. Meanwhile, Shen Ningze was in a dim, windowless room. There was a needle mark on his arm—he had just been injected with a drug brought by Wolenson that morning.
Wolenson had explained a lot beforehand. He thought he’d have to argue or name-drop Luan Zheng to get Shen Ningze’s cooperation. After all, given Shen Ningze’s frail body, the drug might kill him.
But Shen Ningze agreed easily. He rolled up his sleeve and smiled:
“I read somewhere that all successful people need a little luck.”
Wolenson’s hand paused mid-air. He looked up into a pair of eyes as deep as an abyss.
Shen Ningze’s pale arm lay quietly before him. In the room’s dim lighting, he resembled a coiled venomous snake, ready to strike. In that moment, Wolenson began to suspect Shen Ningze’s obedience wasn’t due to loyalty to Luan Zheng—but because of his own hidden agenda.
After the injection, Shen Ningze passed out for a while. He convulsed several times during the process and finally woke up in agony.
Pain and clarity could coexist. Shen Ningze didn’t believe he’d die from the drug. First, his body had some resistance to it. Second, Wolenson had diluted it to increase the odds of success.
Wolenson stayed by his side until 6 p.m., when Shen Ningze finally recovered enough to sit up.
“Try it out,” he said.
Shen Ningze activated a faint new power within him. With a flick of his finger toward the table, the air slightly distorted, and the cup on the table subtly changed shape.
Weak—but enough.
Wolenson exhaled in relief. “As long as you can exhibit a Fog Star ability, our plan’s success rate goes way up.”
Shen Ningze curled his fingers. “What if Su Cha has a similar ability?”
Wolenson shook his head. “I’ve been watching him.”
He had been interested in Su Cha from the moment he stepped into the public eye—perhaps even more than Luan Zheng was.
“His power has clearly mutated—it’s somewhere between spiritual force and psychokinesis,” Wolenson said with a smile. “And besides, Su Cha’s in the military academy. He doesn’t know his origins, nor is he in contact with anyone from Fog Star.”
Shen Ningze gave a light cough. “Remind my father not to be too obvious.”
A disguise that’s too perfect becomes a flaw in itself.
After Wolenson left, Shen Ningze stayed alone in the hidden room for a while, until a message from Su Cha popped up.
[Wanna grab a meal tomorrow?]
Seeing the message, Shen Ningze narrowed his eyes. He’d just been worrying about how to get close to Su Cha to figure out why Ji Tianjin suddenly got off the stretcher and attacked him.
[Sure!]
To avoid raising Su Cha’s suspicions, he didn’t suggest a location.
Su Cha: [I found a café in the city center with great reviews. See you at 10 tomorrow. I’ll be waiting (flower emoji.jpg)]
Shen Ningze: [I’ll be there! Heart emoji.jpg]
The conversation ended with them exchanging cute emojis.
…
The preparations for the new student welcome party were extensive. The student council even had to go out looking for sponsors. The school, for once, allowed students to leave campus freely for the next couple of days—but every outing required a report and had a strict three-hour limit.
The capital city was still under tight security. The café Su Cha had picked was in the most bustling part of the city center, and there were multiple patrol cars nearby.
At 10 a.m., two people—each with nearly a thousand schemes in mind—sat across from each other. The atmosphere was peaceful, accompanied by soft, flowing music.
Su Cha: “You’ve lost weight.”
Shen Ningze: “You too.”
One look filled with worry, the other full of care.
The tender scene was only broken when the robot brought over their coffee.
Today, Su Cha was wearing a face mask and a baseball cap. Winning the new student group in the Ten-School Tournament had earned him some attention.
When he briefly removed his mask to breathe, Shen Ningze’s gaze dipped.
Sometimes, you don’t need a reason to hate someone. Shen Ningze genuinely disliked Su Cha—as if Su Cha embodied the opposite of everything he was. He wanted to personally destroy him.
It happened to be the weekend. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows beside them, a father and son passed by outside. The child held a newly bought toy weapon, eagerly asking his father how to take it apart.
Watching the scene quietly, Shen Ningze casually dropped a sugar cube into his coffee, then suddenly asked: “Have you ever longed for a father’s love?”
When his mother found out she had given birth to a genetically defective child, she withdrew all her affection. As a child, Shen Ningze had yearned for paternal love—but later realized he was wrong.
What he really wanted wasn’t love. It was the power and status his father possessed.
And now—
The child Fog Star was searching for so aggressively had to be important. If Shen Ningze could take Su Cha’s place and enter Fog Star’s view, he’d gain powerful backing. Strangely enough, what gave him more satisfaction than the benefits was the thought that all the affection Su Cha should’ve received… would become his instead.
“Sometimes, your birth really does matter,” Shen Ningze murmured—then noticed Su Cha frowning, clearly not listening.
The clink of the spoon stirring the cup brought Su Cha back.
Shen Ningze stopped stirring and smiled: “You look troubled. Something on your mind?”
Su Cha set down his communicator and said slowly, “I submitted a guardian application yesterday. Didn’t expect to get responses this quickly…”
As he spoke, his frown deepened. “Besides our administrator, both General Yise and the principal offered to be my guardian. That’s fine, I guess… but why is the Chief of the Investigation Department on the list too?”
He’d barely met Xie Rongjue a handful of times.
Did all these big shots really enjoy playing dad?
Sighing helplessly, Su Cha looked up at Shen Ningze. “What were you saying just now?”
Was it something about… what he yearned for?
