Shen Ningze had a hard time controlling his micro-expressions. Across from him, Su Cha was staring at him with wide, innocent eyes, full of confusion.
At that moment, Shen Ningze couldn’t tell if the other really hadn’t heard him—or was pretending not to.
No reply came. Just as Su Cha was about to take a sip of coffee and think about how to handle it, another message arrived.
“Ji Chong… who’s that?”
Shen Ningze’s smile completely collapsed.
“Ji Chong. A mining and medical industry tycoon in the Empire. CEO of the Miaote Group. Also Ji Tianjin’s father.”
“Ji Tianjin’s father?” Su Cha was surprised. “Then why would he want to make me his son?”
Shen Ningze gave a strained smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re asking me?”
How would he know? The guy was probably just blind.
Su Cha took a sip of coffee, motioned the robot to add two ice cubes, and after his throat moved slightly, said lightly, “Summer really makes people feel irritable.”
Longing for a father’s love? What a joke—only people with no options worry about that.
Shen Ningze adjusted his expression, appearing to worry for him, though his words were veiled with barbs: “No matter who you choose, you’ll probably end up offending someone.”
Su Cha nodded in agreement. “Blame me for being too popular.”
Gazing at the slowly melting ice cubes, Su Cha’s mind had already turned over the situation hundreds of times. Two assassination attempts. Fast and the live-body experiments were definitely connected. The only thing he couldn’t quite figure out was—Fasite had already started to believe he was holding confidential intel and would surely report back to whoever was behind him. So why did they still strike so hastily?
There should’ve been at least a period of testing the waters.
Su Cha gently released a thread of spiritual power. His spiritual power was harmless-looking and hard to detect even when detached from his body.
“The remnants of the live-body experiments are getting bolder. They even tried to assassinate me in the desert.”
The sudden shift in topic caught Shen Ningze off guard—he’d just been feeling a bit sour emotionally. He quickly showed concern. “An assassination? Are you alright?”
Su Cha shook his head. “Barely escaped. Oh, and I have a piece of classified intel.”
“What kind of intel?”
Shen Ningze asked along with the flow, though he didn’t believe it. Su Cha had been rescued, surely debriefed by the military or the investigation department. Even if he had intel, there was no way it had gone undiscovered this long—especially with his incomplete memory.
His spiritual sense picked up no anomalies. Shen Ningze’s emotions were perfectly measured. Su Cha paused briefly, then suddenly said: “It’s related to fragments of my memory. This time, they’ve really pissed me off.”
“So I’m going to release a name.” Fixing his gaze on the person opposite him, he enunciated slowly and clearly: “Wolenson.”
Shen Ningze’s stirring hand froze for a split second. Realizing his lapse, he feigned nonchalance and picked up his spoon, sipping his coffee calmly. But inside, waves were crashing.
Could it be that Su Cha wasn’t lying? That there really was intel?
Real or not—once the name was out, Luan Zheng would know Shen Ningze had deceived him.
Su Cha checked the time and gave an apologetic smile. “I’ve got another meeting after this. Today’s coffee is on me.”
Shen Ningze’s fingers gripped the handle a little tighter, but Su Cha had already gotten up and was heading to the door. Moments later, someone else arrived.
Ji Tianjin, dressed in a light-colored casual outfit, looked a bit softer than usual in the face.
Su Cha turned back and waved at Shen Ningze. “We’re off to prep for the freshman welcome performance. See you.”
Shen Ningze kept smiling and waved back.
Once across the street, Ji Tianjin asked, “What did you do to him?”
“Hm?”
“He looked like a startled rat.”
Su Cha thought back to Shen Ningze’s expression—yeah, it was a little stiff. So he gave a simple recap of what happened, then added, “When we get back, I’ll try to talk to someone from the investigation department, see if they’ll agree to release the name.”
Ji Tianjin replied, “They’ve been following him for so long without getting solid evidence. Might as well use Wolenson as bait. They’ll go for it.”
Roughly half of what Su Cha had said to Shen Ningze was true—including the part about prepping for the freshman party.
Su Cha’s idea was a stage play. Everyone could participate, and it avoided needing combat choreography. But in the interstellar era, stage plays were basically obsolete. To find some old scripts, they’d need to visit libraries with a retro theme.
Conveniently, Ji Tianjin mentioned that his family had a decent collection. They could take a look.
“Young Master.” Across the road, the butler was already waiting beside the aircraft. He gave Ji Tianjin a slight bow.
Su Cha: “Hello, Uncle.”
The butler smiled so hard the corners of his eyes crinkled. “You should be calling me Grandpa.”
He really was quite old.
Once aboard the aircraft, Su Cha finally brought up the guardian issue.
“I saw your father’s name on the list.”
Ji Tianjin nodded. “He thinks your talent is useful. That in the future, you and I can complement each other on the interstellar battlefield. So he submitted an application.”
Three sentences—might as well have tattooed “won’t lift a finger without benefit” on his dad’s face.
Su Cha froze for a moment. He’s not even going to try to cover for his own dad?
“Just keep him as a backup,” Ji Tianjin said. “If we really can’t find someone more suitable, we’ll choose him. At least he’s controllable.”
Su Cha was sure he hadn’t misheard—what was emphasized was controllable, not reliable.
The butler didn’t seem to mind that Ji Tianjin was undercutting his father or encouraging an outsider to use his own dad as a backup guardian. He piloted the aircraft steadily the whole way.
The trip was a bit long. Su Cha looked out at the scenery, at first thinking he’d spotted a beautiful landscape—until the aircraft slowed and he saw the precisely trimmed hedges on the lawn. Then he realized this massive area was likely just the front yard of the mansion.
The butler’s next words confirmed it.
“Young master, shall I land in the front courtyard or the back garden?”
“The front.”
The aircraft began its landing procedure.
Three minutes later, Su Cha stood in front of a grand and ancient-looking building, sincerely amazed. “Your family’s really rich.”
“With clear capital and direction, wealth snowballs on its own,” replied a voice he hadn’t heard before.
A man stepped out of the building, his features somewhat resembling Ji Tianjin’s. But where Ji Tianjin’s aloofness showed in his expression, this man’s strength didn’t show on his face—on the contrary, he gave the illusion of being very approachable. The Ji family was clearly blessed in both looks and talent; they were all strikingly handsome.
“Hello, Uncle,” Su Cha greeted politely.
Ji Chong took out a silver coin, saying it was a gift for their first meeting.
Su Cha pressed a button, and a vine unfurled in the air, gently writhing. It resembled an Overlord Flower, clearly an aggressive plant.
Su Cha had always been gifted with controlling plants via spiritual power, and this gift definitely tempted him. But it was far too valuable.
Before he could politely decline, Ji Chong waved a hand. “The stronger you are, the more it benefits my son.”
The butler added, “I believe you two will be invincible on the battlefield one day.”
“…”
“As for the guardian matter—” Ji Chong had only just started speaking when a crow in a tree suddenly let out a sharp, grating caw.
His expression shifted subtly, and he didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he told the butler to lead them to the study.
On the way, Ji Tianjin explained, “That crow is my father’s spirit form. Sometimes it works like a prophecy—when something bad is coming, it caws.”
Su Cha thought of how that crow had just screamed like its whole family had died. Was it calling him a bad omen?
Ji Tianjin said calmly, “Don’t take it personally.”
If the crow had truly had an issue with Su Cha, it would’ve cawed back when the vine was gifted.
Even the butler was puzzled. Why would the crow think making Su Cha and Ji Tianjin legal siblings was a bad omen? What’s wrong with sworn brotherhood built on trust and loyalty?
At the door, Su Cha realized how modest Ji Chong had been by calling this a “study.” It was practically the size of the Empire’s largest public library.
Inside, three robots handled book maintenance. Ji Tianjin asked what kind of script Su Cha wanted to look for.
Su Cha replied, “I’ll just browse.”
He didn’t have a specific idea in mind yet.
Reading usually calmed him, but today, Su Cha’s focus was split. He released the vine Ji Chong had given him and tried controlling it with spiritual power. With a thought, it moved precisely as directed.
The vine’s body was massive, its roots wrapped in folded space, and it could stretch up to a hundred meters. One end hovered right at Ji Tianjin’s nose. The vine bent slightly and shook a leaf like a gentleman giving a bow.
Ji Tianjin reached out to test its toughness.
Su Cha wrapped the vine around his wrist, and Ji Tianjin gradually increased his spiritual power to see how much it would take to break free.
Avoiding the throat, the vine crept from wrist to torso—stubbornly holding tight.
Ji Tianjin raised an eyebrow. “Not bad.”
Its attack and resilience were better than he’d expected. One arm was already free thanks to increased power. There were now countless mental link points between Su Cha and the vine. Then, guided by some sort of instinct—almost as if his bloodline knew what to do—Su Cha twitched his finger.
In an instant, the vine vanished—then tore through the air, reappearing to rewrap Ji Tianjin’s wrist.
They both saw the momentary disappearance. It was as if Su Cha had twisted space, shoving the vine into another dimension.
After that sudden burst, Su Cha felt faint, swayed, and without warning—collapsed.
Watching him fall, Ji Tianjin finally understood how the deputy chief of the Investigation Department must feel.
No sheep faints as easily as this guy.
The vine’s grip remained. Forcing it off would destroy it.
Ji Tianjin closed his eyes, a near-silent sigh escaping his lips.
In the mansion—
Ji Chong was just about to head out for an important meeting. As he stepped toward the aircraft, a white tiger leapt out.
Seeing the tiger had grown fatter, Ji Chong didn’t even have time to frown before the beast turned sharply, clearly urging him to follow.
The afternoon sun was beautiful, casting perfect light on Ji Tianjin—still tightly bound like a rice dumpling—with Su Cha collapsed at his feet, holding the vine’s source.
Ji Chong’s eyelid twitched.
Ji Tianjin calmly explained, “We were training earlier.”
Ji Chong crouched to check Su Cha’s condition. After lifting an eyelid, he said, “Trained until he collapsed?”
A family doctor was called. After injecting a recovery agent, Ji Chong asked, “How long until he wakes up?”
The doctor packed up a small diagnostic device. “Hard to say—probably before evening.”
Ji Tianjin suddenly said, “My approved leave is limited. I need to file a report with the school.”
Ji Chong knew that even without being told.
Skipping the formalities, he called the high school principal and said the two would return tomorrow morning.
The principal was blunt. “You can’t violate school rules for no reason.”
It was a video call. Ji Chong turned the camera to show Ji Tianjin, still bound.
Ji Tianjin nodded slightly.
The principal went silent. Ji Chong added mercilessly, “We could just cover their faces and carry them back.”
In the end, the leave was granted. Su Cha was moved to a guest room.
After a few hours’ sleep, in a half-dreaming state, Su Cha rolled over, ready to keep sleeping. But something felt off. Too soft. His dorm bed was never this comfortable.
He shot up from bed. A tug in his left hand. His eyes followed the vine all the way down to Ji Tianjin, sleeping on the floor.
“Friend, are you okay?”
A pair of deep, sharp eyes stared back at him.
Su Cha belatedly realized he must’ve fainted—and quickly withdrew the vine.
Ji Tianjin stood, rotating his joints.
Su Cha gave an awkward smile. “I didn’t think that would happen. But good thing it didn’t happen on the way back to school.”
At least no one would leak anything from the Ji estate.
Ji Tianjin said calmly, “I already arranged a leave with the principal.”
Clinging to his last hope, Su Cha asked, “…What reason did you give?”
“Video calls don’t require a reason.”
