After the system left, seeing that the time was about right, Su Cha went out for a check-up. When measuring his height, he was struck hard again—he was clearly at an age where he should be growing, and he had even gone through a shallow awakening. Why had a whole month passed and he still hadn’t grown even a centimeter?
“You’ll grow—bamboo shoots all sprout up in a rush.” Recalling the tall stature of Fog Star people, Su Cha regained some confidence.
After casually doing a few tests, he walked to a corner. Just one more turn and he would reach the outer edge of the rest area. But before that, with just a single glance up, he saw that Land had already appeared in front of him.
“You…”
“I recognized Your Highness’s footsteps.”
Not heard, but recognized. Su Cha’s expression grew complicated—could he now identify people just by the sound of their steps?
Land’s gaze was full of concern. “I’ll have the accompanying military doctor examine Your Highness again shortly.”
Su Cha waved his hands repeatedly, emphasizing that he was fine. “Just some minor symptoms from the awakening.”
Even though his physical fitness had already greatly improved, in Land’s eyes, the child beside him still appeared quite fragile. “Once we return, I’ll immediately arrange for the best nutritionist to help Your Highness condition your body.”
Su Cha felt like he should demonstrate his ability to break stones on his chest—it would definitely blow them away.
At this point, Land brought up the energy chamber again.
Going to the energy chamber would be very beneficial for Su Cha’s body.
“This batch of meteor sand hasn’t arrived yet.” Xie Ruanjue hadn’t lied about this. Star pirates held grudges too. Not long ago, the Empire had deployed troops, so whenever star pirates spotted Galan soldiers in interstellar battlefields, they would spread the news far and wide, disrupting the transport of meteor sand.
Land frowned slightly. If meteor sand didn’t require a special container—something not easily produced—he would have already led troops to seize it from the battlefield himself.
“A couple more days won’t make a difference.” Xie Ruanjue clasped his hands together and smiled. “Staying a little longer doesn’t hurt. For example…”
He glanced at Su Cha first, then continued: “I’ll take a bold guess at your country’s training policy—it’s very gentle, almost indulgent.”
Land had once bluntly pointed out the fragility of pureblood children. Building on that, Xie Ruanjue expanded: “But clearly, Su Cha no longer suits that kind of educational approach.”
The kid was now resilient and hardy—he could probably literally break stones on his chest.
Land remained expressionless. “We don’t need outsiders worrying about it. We’ll make the necessary adjustments ourselves.”
Xie Ruanjue pushed up his glasses. “Will your country really be able to bear doing that? If he slacks off during this growth phase, he’ll be a useless freeloader for life.”
Being a carefree freeloader for life, avoiding wind and rain, actually sounded pretty nice. But the revenge of strange beasts toward Fog Star was fiercer than on most planets—the frequency and scale of invasions were beyond imagination.
After all, Fog Star had once massacred an entire strange beast planet. The hatred between them was deep and deadly.
Su Cha himself realized this—he knew he no longer had the chance to be a happy freeloader. The sugar-coated promises painted by the system had been peeled back, and he had now seen just the tip of the cruel iceberg that was the interstellar era.
The philosophies differed, and Land didn’t like being told what to do. He was about to retort when someone else spoke first.
“Let’s use the affiliated school as a trial site and run a few experimental exchange classes.”
Whenever Yise spoke, his tone carried a calm steadiness. “You can observe the affiliated school’s daily training methods—it’ll help with adjustments once you return.”
Su Cha’s heart stirred. What Yise said made a lot of sense, but it was based on the assumption that he would go back.
None of his colleagues echoed that idea. Nearby, Xie Ruanjue just kept his usual smile, eyes squinting so no one could read what he was really thinking.
A moment later, Xie Ruanjue’s lips moved slightly. Su Cha belatedly realized he was using spiritual power as a barrier to speak with someone.
Whatever he said, Land’s forceful attitude visibly softened, and he didn’t seem opposed to staying a few more days.
Old and shrewd wins the day. As Su Cha was still puzzling out these powerful people’s true intentions, Sanses tapped the chair arm lightly. Before long, the principal took the initiative to say: “If there are no objections, we’ll use Su Cha’s class as the special training group.”
That hit right at Land’s sweet spot—he’d get to personally teach the little prince and spend loads of time with him each day.
After Land nodded, the principal looked to Ji Tianjin. “You’re all very lucky. You’ll get to learn different things from your new teacher.”
Ji Tianjin promptly said, “Hello, teacher.”
Su Cha raised his face and stared at Land with tea-colored eyes. Then he echoed, “Hello, teacher.”
Sweet and well-behaved—no one could resist that.
In that moment, even Land’s spiritual power trembled slightly from the emotional fluctuation.
“Y-Your Highness, there’s no need to be so formal…” The fearsome general on the battlefield was now stammering.
Perfect.
Su Cha felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Confirming that no conflict would erupt, he could now focus on breaking through.
Land also considered Su Cha’s deep awakening the top priority for now—but an additional thought crossed his mind: this adorable and affectionate little prince must be taken back immediately after his deep awakening.
Near the hospital was a commercial street. After calming down, Land resumed his normal speaking speed and suggested going to buy Su Cha some clothes.
Ever since they met, they’d felt sorry for how plainly the little prince was dressed.
Su Cha quite liked his little raincoat and explained, “It was custom-made for me. It helps adjust my spiritual power.”
With Land’s eye, of course he could tell the material was different. But it didn’t change his view.
“It won’t take long.” Land coaxed gently, “We’ll just pick out a couple of things.”
Facing the big-dad-mode general, Su Cha ultimately couldn’t refuse.
The hospital entrance had been cordoned off, with Investigation Department members maintaining order. Only actual patients could enter through the special passage—bystanders were barred. The moment Su Cha stepped out, countless cameras instantly activated, all focusing on him. The emperor was present, and though reporters had endless questions, they didn’t dare ask. All they could do was frantically press their shutters.
Sanses paused his step. The foreign minister quickly stepped forward and addressed the reporters: “There will be a press conference later. Please remain calm.”
The frenzy gradually died down. It was the first time Su Cha had avoided cameras. Standing among so many high-ranking figures, he looked small and pitiful. The height gap between him and the bigshots on either side made them look like bodyguards.
Fog Star soldiers scanned the crowd coldly, on high alert for any threat to the little prince.
A commercial street was nearby, and pedestrians gave way. Su Cha felt a little uncomfortable.
Land asked, “Where’s the most expensive shop?”
The Chief of Justice answered, “There’s a flagship store for a luxury brand on the top floor of the mall.”
Luxury boutiques didn’t usually get much foot traffic. The manager had received advance notice and personally came to greet them. “These are all our newest releases, the theme is—”
Land pulled out a diamond card. “Get one in every size he wears.”
No further explanation was needed—the manager already understood it was for Su Cha.
“All of them?” He froze, double-checking.
Land didn’t want to repeat himself and was already looking toward the next store. “If it’s the same collection, get every color too.”
In that moment, Su Cha finally understood what Land had meant by “it won’t take long”—they weren’t even trying anything on.
He tried to advise, “Buying this much, I won’t have space in my dorm to put them.”
He shouldn’t have said that. It hit a nerve in Land, who, while knowing sponsoring an entire building was impractical due to construction time, still wanted to quickly improve Su Cha’s living conditions. He proposed, “There’s a planet not far from here called Artisan Star—very developed in manufacturing. They can deliver a mobile villa in three days.”
Su Cha had a bad feeling. “How big?”
“We’re in a rush, so they can only rush out a small 7,000-square-meter unit. Apologies for the inconvenience, Your Highness.”
“I want to live in the student dorms.” Su Cha insisted for once.
He didn’t want to live in a stuffy building where he’d need to bike from his bedroom just to make it to class on time.
Seeing his concern, Land said, “There’s a side door by the bedroom. It’ll directly face the teaching building.”
Su Cha’s mouth twitched. What kind of devilish design was that?
He suddenly grabbed Land’s hand and repeated firmly, “I want to live in the student dorms.”
Land frowned slightly, like he was struggling with a tough decision.
The principal chimed in at the right moment: “There’s a suite on the top floor of the dorm. He can move in there.”
Land looked at Su Cha and reluctantly said, “Just bear with it a little longer. Once we return, you’ll have a proper house.”
Su Cha refused to imagine what “proper” meant in his terms. Now that the clothes were bought, after holding it in for so long, he finally asked the question that had been circling in his mind: “Did you come today to visit the affiliated school, or… specifically to find me?”
Most people speak with a hidden sting, but Land was all steel, silently taking jabs at the Empire: “We have to thank some fool from Galan who dared try to impersonate you.”
Su Cha paused, blurting out, “Shen Ningze?”
He’d been wondering about everyone’s strange attitude toward Shen Ningze lately. Now, seeing someone with that signature Galan blue hair, the name slipped out instinctively.
That unlucky kid… had he seriously gone to all that trouble to copy the same hair color and develop some spatial ability—was he trying to imitate the Fog Star people?
“Whether it’s impersonation or coincidence, before the matter is settled, it’s best not to jump to conclusions,” Xie Rongjue said. Although he was eighty percent sure Shen Ningze was deliberately impersonating, he had no choice but to cover for a few foolish officials—especially his ever-‘surprising’ colleagues.
The deputy chief of the Investigation Department, under the weight of his glance, guiltily lowered his head and silently prayed that the fainting sheep would faint again to save him from scrutiny.
Su Cha, unintentionally saving him from more interrogation, suddenly said, “I want to go see Shen Ningze.”
To watch the show.
Others didn’t interpret it that way. After all, publicly, their relationship was defined as friends. The foreign minister shook his head—Su Cha hadn’t inherited the forceful traits typical of Fog Star people. Even now, he still wanted to see someone she considered a friend.
Sanses was also about to return to the palace. Su Cha rode the emperor’s personal aircraft—its spaciousness and luxury rivaled that of a warship.
Currently, Shen Ningze was being held in a confined room within the royal palace.
The emperor hadn’t spoken, so without conclusive evidence, Shen Ningze was merely under watch, not thrown into a dungeon. This temporary holding room at least had a glass of water, a few nutrient solutions, and some old books in the corner.
Both Shen Ningze’s body and mind were fragile. The Investigation Department’s harsh interrogation methods would kill him instantly, so he wasn’t worried about torture. As for truth serums and other neural agents, unless administered in large amounts, they had no effect on him either.
All he had to do now was stay calm. Shen Ningze knew well he couldn’t betray Luan Zheng. If his identity was exposed, the best-case scenario was exile; the worst, execution. His only way out was if Luan Zheng escaped first—he just had to stick to the story that everything was a coincidence.
He took a small sip of cold water, expression calm and fearless.
After so many brushes with death, Shen Ningze had long mastered the kind of composure only adults usually had.
“Ningze—”
Pfft! He spat water everywhere.
The door was flung open. Su Cha rushed in. “What happened? They said you were arrested!”
With Su Cha shouting like that, Shen Ningze couldn’t even keep up the act. Awkwardly adjusting his expression, he gave a bitter smile. “I don’t know either.”
He coughed violently—his frailty didn’t need to be faked after such emotional whiplash.
He first rose to greet Sanses. The emperor’s gaze was as if it could see through everything. Shen Ningze’s fingers involuntarily curled slightly.
“His Highness is still young—it’s understandable he trusted the wrong person,” Land said bluntly about Shen Ningze, with no trace of politeness. “This one’s rotten to the core.”
To be this scheming at such a young age—if not for concerns about who might be backing Shen Ningze, Land wouldn’t show any mercy.
“Your Majesty Sanses,” Land suddenly switched to formal speech, drawing Sanses’s attention.
“I promise not to beat him to death.”
As soon as he finished, he launched a sudden spirit strike—right to Shen Ningze’s face.
“…”
Slapped, Shen Ningze’s eyes widened in wounded disbelief, like he still didn’t understand what was going on.
Now Xie Rongjue asked leisurely, “You suddenly awakened an ancestral power—and it just happens to be a spatial ability. Are you sure it’s really just a coincidence?”
Shen Ningze still played the fool, looking even more confused.
“You and Su Cha are around the same age, yet he’s the one Fog Star is actually looking for.” Xie Rongjue gave him a glance. “Besides, with your physical condition, you shouldn’t be able to awaken at all.”
He all but directly accused him of being suspicious in every way.
Eventually, Shen Ningze couldn’t help it and muttered, “The day we accidentally awakened… I actually awakened first. And…”
To preserve the image of being Su Cha’s good friend, he didn’t point out that between the two of them, Su Cha was clearly more suspicious.
To be fair, Shen Ningze’s claim had some merit. He awakened when he reported in. Su Cha also took leave to awaken. The earlier episodes seemed half-hearted—each time he fainted near the Investigation Department’s entrance, his awakening progressed a little more.
“Ningze…” Su Cha’s eyes grew misty. He repeated the earlier question: “Is what they said true?”
Shen Ningze wanted to twist his head off, but instead teared up as well. “Of course not.”
His tone dropped further: “If no one else believes me, do you not believe me either? Fine—execute me, then.”
He looked at the Chief of Justice. “At least I’ll die under the fireworks you set off for me that night.”
Forever young. Forever radiant.
“What fireworks?” The Justice Chief frowned, then suddenly realized, “Oh, those were meant for Student Su Cha.”
Seeing Shen Ningze’s disbelief, he explained, “‘S’ stood for Su Cha.”
Shen Ningze was stunned.
Are you even human?
Su Cha was already preparing to leave.
Shen Ningze had invited him out countless times with hidden motives, so Su Cha came today to enjoy a bit of karma.
Now that the show was over, before leaving, Su Cha said earnestly, “If you really did something wrong, just admit it. I’ll do my best to persuade His Majesty to spare your life.”
“Believe me. I wouldn’t do something so stupid.” Shen Ningze knew the only way to survive was to keep his mouth shut.
Their words held subtle double meanings. Shen Ningze personally walked Su Cha to the door and watched him leave. When he tried to take a step forward, the guards stopped him. He backed off on his own and sat in silence for a long time before suddenly letting out a low laugh.
It’s not certain who will outlive whom.
Things had reached this point—Luan Zheng would never allow diplomatic ties to proceed. Killing Su Cha to trigger chaos and using that moment to retreat was the best move.
In this twisted father-son relationship, it was always like father, like son. Shen Ningze knew exactly what Luan Zheng was planning.
Luan Zheng moved even faster than expected.
The death soldier hadn’t returned. Data from the chip implanted in his body confirmed he was dead.
Luan Zheng replayed the hospital footage over and over but found no flaws. Such a daring assassination shouldn’t have gone completely unnoticed.
One subordinate guessed, “Could it have been a setup? Maybe they’re deliberately keeping it under wraps?”
Luan Zheng waved it off.
The emperor had been with the Fog Star delegation the whole time. Even if they wanted to appease Fog Star, they wouldn’t just sweep it under the rug.
“There’s no way back now.” Luan Zheng was exhausted. “Have the core files packed. Prepare for the next assassination.”
The political situation kept shifting, and his subordinates had long stopped trying to understand.
Though his tone was cold, Luan Zheng sounded faintly angry.
“Even if the next attempt fails, we must at least injure Su Cha.”
Fog Star people were fierce and combative—as long as they were provoked, that was enough. He instructed in a low voice, “Afterward, pin the blame on one of the major corporations.”
It was nearly impossible to carry out an assassination at the affiliated high school. Luan Zheng turned the idea over in his mind, but found no clear path.
At 6 p.m., the foreign affairs department officially held a press conference, announcing a short-term cultural exchange between the two nations. It would begin at the affiliated high school as a joint class experiment.
After seeing the news, Luan Zheng had an idea. “Tell Cheng Qing to use rats to tunnel in from the perimeter. We still have some of the drug Wolenson researched. Inject it into a death soldier and fake Fog Star features—easier to get close to Su Cha.”
If Su Cha were here, he’d recognize the name. Cheng Qing was once a student at the military academy high school, gifted in handling animals. He was expelled for using rats to steal classified files.
The smaller and weaker the animal, the easier to overlook. Using rats improved the odds.
The system also saw the news. No one understood better how many warships were gathered beyond the frontier stars. Both armies were staring each other down—and yet they called this a cultural exchange.
“People in power are all filthy inside.”
Then it remembered its host had mentioned something about inheriting a throne and began muttering coldly into the air, “Hope he has some sense.”
If he didn’t, the system would help him pick a few loyal followers—then let Su Cha sit high on the throne and make others dirty their hands.
…
After sunset, the heat remained oppressive.
Su Cha and Ji Tianjin had just moved to the top floor from the third—the lowest tier—and became neighbors. Su Cha didn’t lift a finger during the move. He leaned silently against the wall, watching Fog Star soldiers carry in clothes like water flowing.
Ji Tianjin stood beside him the whole time, saying nothing, which gave Su Cha—forced to make choices all day—a rare sense of peace.
Though the student dorms didn’t allow outsiders to stay, Land and the others knew their bounds. After finishing the move, they didn’t insist on following him everywhere.
Despite Land’s repeated refusals, Su Cha still escorted them downstairs.
“Uncle Land.”
He could never resist that title. His gaze softened. “Does Your Highness need anything?”
“Will you be teaching class tomorrow?”
Land nodded. “We’ve made arrangements. I’ll be teaching combat training.”
Su Cha clenched his fists. “Good luck.”
His combat boots made almost no sound. Even when they parted ways, Land still felt it was all too light and fleeting. The soldiers around him looked on with envy—being the young prince’s teacher and getting encouragement? Just imagining it made their eyes red with jealousy.
One soldier couldn’t help blurting out, “Marshal, you haven’t had rest in ages. Why don’t I teach in your place—”
He hadn’t even finished his sentence before receiving a death glare.
…
A soldier who doesn’t want to be a marshal is no good. He would rack up merits and hope the little prince noticed him someday.
That night.
The palace remained brightly lit. Aside from the Foreign Affairs Chief preparing tomorrow’s speech, nearly all department heads were present.
To the public, Fog Star’s visit was a historic moment of diplomacy. But only the insiders knew the truth. Evacuations had begun at the border, and all 108 star systems had activated anti-missile systems.
Everyone had their own suspicions—many wondering why the emperor hadn’t just handed the matter over. It seemed he even intended to snatch Su Cha from Fog Star’s hands. But then again, if Su Cha fully awakened, his abilities could replace all existing spirit stabilizers. Still, one person couldn’t bear that burden forever.
Sanses’s thoughts were always hard to read. As everyone pondered, he turned first to Xie Rongjue. “Report on the delegation.”
Xie Rongjue answered in full: “At 7 p.m., the delegation checked into the state guesthouse.”
“At 8 p.m., Fog Star Marshal Land purchased an M-33 aircraft and modified it.”
“After 9 p.m., he kept flying it.”
Usually it was others who couldn’t read Sanses—this time, the emperor himself was baffled by Land’s actions.
“What was he flying for?”
“Because of the heat. To cool Su Cha down for a good night’s sleep—he was creating artificial rain.”
…
The meteorological bureau had issued high temperature warnings for days. The palace itself was stiflingly hot. Most of its furnishings and columns had historical value, so little modern tech had been added.
Someone glanced outside—no rain in sight. It was even hotter.
Xie Rongjue added, “It’s raining only in the western district, centered on the affiliated high school.”
Fog Star had fully embodied the principle of not watering anyone else’s fields.
“…”
