After Yise took over as general, his actions were so steady and restrained that Xie Rongjue nearly forgot he used to have some roguish military habits. Most of the time he was fine, but when he let it slip, a single sentence could be enough to drive someone mad.
Xie Rongjue sneered coldly and descended the stairs ahead of him.
Behind him, the head of the Seventh Legion caught up to Yise, visibly puzzled. “Has Chief Xie finally lost his mind?”
Today, he actually stood on the same side as them.
Yise didn’t seem surprised and responded calmly, “Xie Rongjue rose to the head of the Investigation Department at such a young age because he’s always followed one principle.”
“What principle?”
“The Investigation Department is loyal only to His Majesty.”
The head of the Seventh Legion was startled. That statement almost sounded like a hint that His Majesty was about to completely break with the consortiums.
…
Military Academy Affiliated High School.
“This time, His Majesty is definitely siding with me.”
During the break between classes, the nervousness Su Cha had shown during the earlier phone call was nowhere to be seen. He was chatting casually with Ji Tianjin, talking about the energy chamber nomination. “Now that I’ve successfully awakened, I’ll become a bargaining chip in suppressing the conglomerates.”
When their interests align, that person in the palace is his greatest backer.
Yesterday, Su Cha had awakened in front of everyone—not just to compete with Shen Ningze, but also to show the people at the top what he was capable of.
Ji Tianjin was only half-listening, focusing instead on resisting the urge to dismantle the wild mess Su Cha had constructed despite being taught hand-in-hand.
It was hard to imagine how, even with hands-on guidance, Su Cha could still make something so… untamed.
Su Cha leaned back in his chair. “I just don’t get what Shen Ningze was trying to pull, doing all that in front of everyone.”
Ji Tianjin said, “Look on the bright side—he’s probably the most confused one of all.”
The guy likely never dreamed that someone would just walk up in broad daylight and awaken right in front of him.
Su Cha was silent for a few seconds, then voluntarily dismantled the eyesore of a model and pieced together a simple heart in thanks. “You’re right.”
Thinking about it that way, he felt much better.
Ji Tianjin thought the heart actually looked decent. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “Don’t forget to check in on your ‘friend.’”
Su Cha nodded. “I sent a message this morning. Still no reply.”
…
Shen Ningze, at the moment, was powerless to act.
Only a few days had passed, and he was back in the familiar hospital room. Even moving a finger caused a ripping pain throughout his body.
The door opened. The person who entered removed their mask—not a doctor, but someone from the conglomerate.
“Everyone’s pushing for you to go to the energy chamber. Your body will recover once you’re there.”
Shen Ningze knew this message was from Luan Zheng, meant to boost his morale so he wouldn’t collapse at the critical moment.
“His Majesty doesn’t favor the consortiums. This might backfire.”
The visitor said, “The Fog Star delegation will arrive in three days.”
A flicker of light passed through Shen Ningze’s eyes.
“We’ll make sure word spreads across the capital that you awakened spatial abilities. Once the Fog Star envoys arrive, and they hear the rumors—your matching appearance and powers—you’re bound to catch their attention.”
With diplomatic ties forming between the two empires, His Majesty wouldn’t deny them a mere energy chamber spot to save face.
“As for what to do after they recognize you, the boss will inform you in a couple of days.”
Elsewhere in the hospital, Wolenson had regained consciousness after emergency treatment. However, he wasn’t in the same hospital as Shen Ningze and was under heavy surveillance.
The Deputy Chief of the Investigation Department personally visited him, hinting that someone had tried to assassinate him, and the only way to survive was to cooperate.
Wolenson was still weak. “Asking me won’t help. I really don’t know who the leader is—everyone just calls him the Boss.”
“How do you usually cooperate with each other?”
Wolenson gave a bitter smile. “I mainly do research and assist Dr. Jin. Whenever communication was needed, it was always through them.”
He owed his position to his family background, but the Deputy Chief had skills of his own. His spirit form was more precise than any lie detector, and he detected no signs of lying from Wolenson.
The Deputy Chief sneered, “So you’re basically worthless now.”
And that wasn’t just a threat.
Cornered and desperate, Wolenson hesitated. “I do know something else that might be useful.” After a long silence, he finally said, “Over a decade ago, Dr. Jin sent star pirates to Fog Star to steal genetic material.”
Even just that one sentence made the Deputy Chief’s pupils contract slightly. He and his spirit form maintained sharp vigilance, analyzing every word for truth.
After hearing the whole gripping tale, the Deputy Chief’s expression shifted. “That child back then…”
“Shen Ningze,” Wolenson slowly said the name.
He was stating what he believed to be the truth. Luan Zheng wasn’t stupid—he’d long anticipated that the Investigation Department might go after Wolenson. Through a mix of drugs and hypnosis, he had tampered with Wolenson’s memory. But he hadn’t expected Xie Rongjue to be so ruthless—systematically going after every suspect, triggering internal conflicts.
“Shen Ningze,” the Deputy Chief repeated.
He thought about the signs of atavism appearing in Shen Ningze. He’d glimpsed the boy from afar more than a decade ago during a Fog Star weapons order—and the blue hair matched.
Whether the Fog Star people had spatial abilities remained to be seen.
“Their concern for children is extraordinary. Based on intel from the star pirates, Fog Star’s gene banks far outnumber those on typical planets,” Wolenson added. “I’ve also heard vague rumors that they’ve been taking revenge on the star pirates lately—likely because a child was harmed.”
The Deputy Chief saw the potential benefits. If Fog Star truly valued children, extending goodwill to Shen Ningze might earn the Empire something in return.
He didn’t think of Su Cha, since Shen Ningze’s appearance and powers perfectly fit the Fog Star profile.
After leaving the hospital room, the Deputy Chief debated whether to report this.
If he could orchestrate this reunion without Xie Rongjue’s knowledge, once diplomatic ties were formalized, it would greatly benefit his career.
After a long period of thought, he ultimately decided—out of lingering fear of Xie Rongjue—to take a step back. Instead of reporting it directly, he would discreetly inform a few key figures in other departments and let them push it forward. That way, he’d owe them a favor and gain their future support.
A single command from the palace immediately sent tension rippling through the Empire. The cultural exchange matter was kept under wraps for now. Before the Fog Star delegation truly arrived, anything could change.
Relevant departments didn’t dare slack off, secretly preparing a grand reception.
While everyone else was frantically busy, Su Cha was quietly doing his daily homework.
The little desk fan spun furiously beside him. He hadn’t even eaten dinner.
“What a cursed fate…”
Facing a full page of mechanical calculation problems, Su Cha’s vision went black for a moment. He wondered if he was having heatstroke.
After barely scraping through his homework, the lingering aftereffects of shallow awakening still hadn’t worn off. Su Cha went to bed unusually early that night.
The sultry weather should’ve made it hard to sleep, but this night, he slept deeply. In the haze of dreams, Su Cha vaguely sensed an unfamiliar emotion being transmitted to him through a strange, unique bond.
Who is it?
His brows furrowed. As his emotions fluctuated, his spiritual power leaked uncontrollably. The feeling of heart palpitations grew stronger and stronger. Under the moonlight, his silver hair was tinged with a faint sheen.
Su Cha strained to see clearly. In the end, he only made out a vague silhouette—somewhat thin.
Dangerous, elegant, with long hair drifting in the air—possibly also silver. As the figure drew closer, the dream suddenly broke off. In bed, Su Cha’s eyes flew open.
His chest heaved violently. He sat up, trying to catch his breath. Just as he was about to get a glass of water, he abruptly froze.
…Something was nearby. The sensation was growing stronger.
Suddenly on high alert, he tiptoed to the door. With a swift yank, he flung it open—only to meet countless eyes staring back at him from the dark hallway.
He saw them clearly, even catching a few with an eerie green glow. The flashlight function of his mechanical gloves automatically activated, illuminating the scene: wolves, leopards, owls… animals laid sprawled on the floor, some standing alert at the sound of the door opening.
The beam of light cast upward from his chin, painting Su Cha’s face in a ghostly white.
At that moment, both sides were a little spooked.
The intense spiritual disturbance was quickly picked up by the administrator. A sweeping wave of spiritual force surged out from the management room, paralyzing everyone—including Su Cha. Not long after, Li Huai came striding up the stairs. He found a few animals gathered starting from the second floor and, frowning, picked up a couple with one hand. But the real chaos was on the third floor.
Creak, creak.
A bat trembled under the chandelier overhead, swaying back and forth under the pressure of the spiritual force.
Li Huai stood at the entrance of the hallway with a stone-cold face. His deep shout echoed through the entire dormitory:
“Whose spirit forms are these? Get out here!”
His voice, wrapped in oppressive spiritual pressure, made everyone tremble. One by one, dorm lights flicked on.
Rong Shao and Wu Zhi were on the same floor and bumped into each other, both completely bewildered.
Spirit forms? What spirit forms?
Just as they were trying to make sense of it, a student not looking too well suddenly shouted, “What the—?!”
His spirit form had disappeared.
Following its presence, the student dashed to the third floor. When he saw the swarm of unfamiliar spirit forms gathered there, his brain went momentarily blank.
More and more students came flooding in. There were so many spirit forms in the corridor that there wasn’t even room to stand.
Su Cha, however, had a guess. New students had recently been guided to awaken early, which caused various symptoms of discomfort. It was likely that his own spiritual leakage had drawn in these spirit forms—low in vitality from being affected by their unstable hosts.
From that angle, even the healing effect was turning into a nuisance.
One student forced himself to bend down and scoop up a lynx from the edge of the crowd. Bowing his head, he mumbled quickly, “Sorry, it might’ve been sleepwalking.”
Su Cha managed a tired smile. “Figured.”
With so many spirit forms gathering past midnight, and none under their host’s direct command, there was no one to single out for punishment. Li Huai could only issue a warning: “Don’t let this happen again.”
Once everyone had retrieved their spirit forms and peace returned to the third floor, Su Cha went back to bed.
3:00 a.m. His spiritual power leaked again.
5:00 a.m. It happened a third time.
This time it made quite a stir. Even Li Huai downstairs sensed the faint scent of flowers in the air. As expected, a few spirit forms had gathered outside Su Cha’s door again, trying to make camp there. One lynx had even dragged out a small nest from who knows where.
Standing at his dorm door, Su Cha was at a loss, exhaustion plain on his face.
Li Huai frowned and asked if he was feeling unwell.
Su Cha shook his head. After a moment, he admitted honestly, “Reporting to the officer… I had a nightmare.”
“…”
One person had a nightmare, and the whole building had to suffer with him. The next morning, everyone headed to class with panda eyes. Su Cha was among them, drifting forward like a soul.
As soon as he stepped out of the dorm, he received a message from Yise:【Prepare yourself mentally. Some department heads who were supposed to remain neutral have chosen to support Shen Ningze.】
The second he heard the energy chamber slot might be slipping through his fingers, Su Cha snapped awake.
He’d barely slept since 6 p.m. the previous night and had even surfed the net a little. That’s when he noticed a sudden spike in online chatter about Shen Ningze.
Around the same time, Shen Ningze sent him a message too:【I’ve been dazed since I woke up. Just saw your message.】
Su Cha exchanged a few lines with him, then found a pat-on-the-head emoji for comfort. But the moment he hit send, his expression darkened. Their “plastic friendship” played out vividly in the span of a single mood swing.
He desperately needed to boost his physical condition. Shen Ningze was probably thinking the same. Neither would give up the slot easily.
What puzzled Su Cha was—Shen Ningze was already on Xie Rongjue’s suspect list. So why was he still being considered?
Could it be that Xie Rongjue hadn’t shared his suspicions with anyone?
Moreover, department heads weren’t fools. Recommending someone the conglomerates were propping up to suppress their own side would surely displease the emperor to some extent.
So what exactly was the leverage Shen Ningze held?
As he walked, Su Cha scrolled through online posts. Forums were abuzz, speculating about Shen Ningze’s traits after “returning to ancestor.” Someone anonymously claiming to be a nurse posted praise about how beautiful his hair was.
Su Cha scoffed softly. “Silver looks way better.”
Back then, even shampoo brands had approached him for endorsements.
Compared to the wacky “Power Pill” commercials, the shampoo ads he shot were more generic—lacking in any real hook.
But thanks to recent buzz around the “Empire’s Twin Stars,” advertisers had started pushing his ads again. StarNet ad slots were too pricey, so most were being shown in crowded areas like malls and tour shuttles.
At that moment, the city center’s commercial plaza was playing a flashy 3D holographic ad. In it, Su Cha flicked his hair and snapped his fingers—a bottle of shampoo appeared instantly in his hand:
“Wash with style, wash with confidence—join me in using Hyperlight Shampoo!”
Su Cha’s confidence wasn’t baseless—his market share was impressively high.
…
“We still need to cross 320 more star systems.”
A Fog Star pilot reported: “By tomorrow morning at the latest, the battleship will arrive at the most remote planet of the Galan Empire.”
The adjutant nodded and relayed the message to the fleet: “Send thirty ships through in the morning. The rest will remain on the outer perimeter.”
Letting just thirty ships through was a gesture of goodwill. The hundred more staying back—an unspoken warning, in case of unexpected complications.
The usually calm pilot frowned slightly. “I wonder if that child is safe.”
“The king sent word—he sensed the child’s presence last night.”
At that, the pilot grew faintly excited. If the king could sense him, it meant the child’s power had made a small leap forward.
A rare smile touched the adjutant’s face. Because he rarely smiled, the lines at the corners of his mouth were stiff. But his voice was filled with anticipation: “He must have silver hair, just like the king.”
That was the symbol of pure bloodline—the most revered color of Fog Star.
