At that, even the last trace of a smile on Su Cha’s lips collapsed.
The guard behind him didn’t seem surprised—clearly used to scenes like this.
It wasn’t until Su Cha repeatedly assured that he had truly benefited greatly this time that Land finally relaxed. He asked the question he cared more about: “When do you expect to enter deep awakening?”
The battleship stationed at the border of the fringe planet had already received inquiries three times. The King was growing impatient and wanted to see him as soon as possible.
Su Cha unexpectedly shook his head. “I don’t know. I feel…” He tried to describe it, “Like something’s missing.”
Unlike the shallow awakening, where he could forcefully break through the internal shackles with spiritual power, now he didn’t feel any strong sense of restriction. In this situation, Su Cha didn’t want to rush into the final stage.
Land didn’t question his explanation, even though under normal circumstances, if one didn’t enter deep awakening within a month, it was basically as good as being scrapped.
“To be safe, why not let His Majesty examine him?” A voice came from afar.
Land’s expression instantly turned cold. “It’s you—His Highness’s adoptive father.”
Each word after that carried a chill. He had always minded the special favor Xie Rongjue received.
The smile on Xie Rongjue’s face wavered slightly.
He was excellent at reading people’s emotions—able to gauge the thoughts of even the expressionless Fog Star people. If he were truly a foster father, it would be one thing, but he was merely one of the backups.
Xie Rongjue quickly composed himself. “Marshal, are you implying that you don’t trust His Majesty? That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”
The Galan Empire’s system might be democratic in form, but at its core, it was still Sanses’s one-man rule. As the emperor of the entire empire, he wouldn’t need to resort to underhanded tricks.
Sanses clearly preferred strengthening ties with Fog Star—if not, he would’ve already launched a preemptive strike before Fog Star made any move.
Land didn’t have much trust in foreign monarchs, but unless they got to the root of this soon, the situation would remain deadlocked.
“I must be present the entire time,” Land finally said.
Xie Rongjue smiled. “His Majesty already said—your presence is entirely up to you.”
Land knew there was also an ongoing collaboration involving neutralizing agents. Unless the other party had gone mad, they wouldn’t tear up the deal at this critical moment.
Su Cha had only been to the palace once before—when he came to visit Shen Ningze, who had been imprisoned in a small house on the palace’s outskirts. So strictly speaking, he had never really entered the inner palace.
Apparently, the one in the palace had already given advance notice—guards along the way let them pass without resistance.
Weapons weren’t forbidden inside the palace, but as long as one wasn’t tired of living, no one would try testing their chances at assassinating the empire’s strongest being.
Xie Rongjue led them to a room resembling a conference hall: not too spacious, but filled with a heavy sense of solemnity.
Sanses was already there, his gaze deep and unreadable.
As Xie Rongjue bowed, Su Cha suddenly felt the light of the world dim. The kind of royal aura this man possessed was something he could never hope to emulate—not even if he tried. If the King of Fog Star was really on the verge of death as Land said, did that mean he’d have to go back and succeed the throne?
The seated Sanses didn’t greet Land. Instead, his eyes locked onto Su Cha: “Step forward.”
Su Cha obeyed, subtly shifting his gaze aside—not because he didn’t dare meet the emperor’s eyes, but because Sanses’s gaze carried a tremendous sense of pressure. For a brief moment—maybe it was an illusion—Su Cha thought he saw a golden dragon in the man’s right eye.
Land was watching closely, curious how Sanses would conduct the examination.
A low dragon’s roar swept past his ears like wind. Before Su Cha could react, a projection of a golden dragon appeared over him. In that moment, he felt as though his soul was being scrutinized.
No one liked being completely seen through. Just as he was about to use his spiritual power to mount some resistance, the golden dragon’s image vanished, and Sanses said only four words: “Excess is as bad as deficiency.”
The intervals between Su Cha’s three awakenings had been too short, and he wasn’t even of proper awakening age yet. This level of awakening was pushing the limits of what his body could handle.
Su Cha grew nervous. “Is there a way to remedy this?”
Sanses was silent for a moment before speaking slowly: “The time constraint for deep awakening doesn’t apply to everyone. Take it step by step.”
“Then what step should I start from?”
It had been a long time since anyone had pressed Sanses with questions. Xie Rongjue even considered whether he should intervene, as this already bordered on offense.
To everyone’s surprise, Sanses actually answered: “Grow taller.”
“……”
Su Cha stepped back with a heavy heart. Just before exiting the hall, he looked up and for the first time met Sanses’s gaze directly:
“May the sun of the Galan Empire never set.”
He was leaving anyway—might as well gain some favor with a final line.
The emperor’s face, seemingly frozen for a millennium, revealed the faintest trace of a smile. “The Empire’s citizen number will always be reserved for you.”
As Su Cha turned around, a tide of emotions surged in his chest.
It wasn’t until they exited the palace that Land finally spoke: “I’ll escort Your Highness back to school first. We leave tomorrow.”
Su Cha blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected Land to give him time to say goodbye.
On the aircraft, he received a message from Ji Tianjin: [Let me know when you’re back.]
[I’m almost at the school gate.]
After the last assassination attempt, the school had increased security again. Su Cha encountered almost no one on the way to his dormitory—most students, even on rest days, were still diligently training in the combat rooms.
Just as he stepped out of the elevator on the top floor, he heard Rong Shao’s voice: “He’s here.”
Su Cha looked up to see the entire “He’s Here” squad present.
Wu Shui sighed. “Finally. They only let us in for one hour.”
This was a boys’ dorm building, and Li Huai had only authorized one hour of access, and only for the top floor.
Su Cha opened the door and invited them in.
Ji Tianjin noticed his pale face. “Was it rough?”
Su Cha had mostly recovered and nodded lightly, joking, “Improving physical attributes often comes with… ‘bones breaking and muscles tearing.’”
After a pause, he added: “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Before Ji Tianjin could speak, Rong Shao blurted out in shock, “So soon? You’re not waiting for deep awakening?”
“His Majesty examined me. He advised I wait a bit longer.”
The group fell into brief silence, unsure of what to say.
This time, it was Su Cha who broke the silence. He pressed his lips together and smiled slightly. “Anyway, I’m really glad I got to know you all.”
Wu Shui’s eyes turned red. “Don’t forget to keep in touch.”
The networks between the two sides weren’t connected, but they could send letters via interstellar couriers—though the cost would be high.
“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” she asked again.
Su Cha: “Morning. There’s something urgent—I need to get back as early as possible.”
“I know. They say the King of Fog Star isn’t going to make it.”
Su Cha froze. “How do you know that?”
“It was in the news.”
Su Cha searched online. Just before he’d entered the energy chamber, the foreign affairs minister had given a relatively lengthy speech, generally stating that the King of Fog Star was ill and that Su Cha needed to return immediately. This round of cultural exchange would also end early.
Su Cha had always thought a monarch’s health was a top-secret matter—he never expected it to be publicly announced.
Wu Shui said, “I heard someone privately sent a letter to the state guesthouse, asking if you could stay a little longer. Marshal Land replied uniformly—telling them to give up that idea. Their king is dying. No matter what, they need to see you one last time.”
With that, no one dared to bring up Su Cha staying anymore—it would be forcing the issue.
“….”
For the farewell meal, Rong Shao suggested they go to the cafeteria together. But just as they reached the entrance, a “whoosh whoosh” sound erupted outside. Su Cha instinctively thought it might be stray bullets or landmines again and was about to release his spiritual power—when fireworks burst across the sky.
“Special permission from His Majesty—fireworks are allowed tonight.” Rong Shao winked and pointed at Ji Tianjin. “And this guy right here is the sponsor.”
Night had already fallen. Each firework burst into floral shapes, blooming one after another in endless succession—more dazzling than even Shen Ningze’s birthday celebration.
A cake cart rolled out of the cafeteria, followed by classmates.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…”
The simplest birthday song had not been lost, even in the interstellar era.
Su Cha stood frozen. It wasn’t even his birthday. After being reborn—thanks to those cursed human experiments—he didn’t even know his actual birth date.
Ji Tianjin looked up at the fireworks beside him. “Call it an early birthday, then.”
No special reason. Just that—what Shen Ningze had, Su Cha deserved too.
The fireworks weren’t going to end anytime soon. Su Cha was called over by classmates to blow out the candles. He took a deep breath and extinguished them in one go, closing his eyes to make a wish—
May everyone stay safe and well.
…..
The next morning, Su Cha woke up early to pack his things.
Today wasn’t just the day he left—it was also judgment day. The long-delayed trial over the live experiments was finally opening today, reportedly involving quite a few major conglomerates.
“The Empire and Fog Star have reached an agreement on suppressants. The first batch has already arrived.”
The early morning broadcast was reporting the court proceedings in real-time.
Su Cha paused mid-fold. So that was the context—no wonder the government wasn’t afraid the trial would cause public panic.
He hadn’t brought much when he came, but he was leaving with plenty. Just the birthday gifts from his classmates yesterday filled several suitcases. Once he was almost done packing, the doorbell rang.
It was Ji Tianjin, perfectly on time, ready to help carry the luggage to the space shipping station.
While they waited outside, Ji Tianjin handed him a metallic sphere.
Su Cha was about to activate whatever was inside when Ji Tianjin stopped him.
“It’s a spaceship. I saw you eyeing it at the mall last time.”
He then asked for Su Cha’s savings card.
Su Cha’s throat tightened. “But… even everything I have combined wouldn’t cover it.”
Ji Tianjin chuckled. “I’m not asking for money—just helping you exchange it into Fog Star currency.”
Su Cha handed over both the card and the sphere. Even the cheapest spaceship would cost billions. This gift was too expensive.
Ji Tianjin said, “Just take it. I charged it to my dad’s card. He’ll never finish spending it anyway.”
Su Cha was stunned by the sheer plasticity of that father-son bond.
Land and the others were already waiting at the school gates. Strangely, there weren’t many students heading to class.
Seeing Su Cha look around, Ji Tianjin explained, “It’s a rescheduled day off. Freshman classes were moved to the next rest day.”
For once, the school acted with a bit of humanity—giving his close friends time to say goodbye.
At the gate, under the statue of a soaring eagle, stood several familiar faces. If you had to label them, you might call them the Guardian Angel Squad.
Su Cha’s expression faltered slightly when he saw Yise. After seeing how Fog Star people handled things, he couldn’t help but remember how he’d approached Yise when they first met—asking questions that, in hindsight, must have revealed he knew he didn’t truly belong here.
From that angle, he’d deceived Yise quite a bit.
“Did the seed sprout?”
The voice came from overhead—Yise was suddenly in front of him.
Su Cha nodded.
Yise placed a large hand gently on his head and said, “Roses aren’t delicate—they have thorns. The Empire hasn’t stripped you of your softness. Don’t lose your toughness when you return to Fog Star.”
He gave Su Cha another pack of rose seeds.
Su Cha put them away. “Next time we meet, I’ll be stronger.”
“Your Highness, it’s about time.”
Instead of deploying a battleship, Land had prepared a car so Su Cha could get one last real look at the imperial capital.
A long luxury car waited by the curb. Land personally opened the door. “Your friends may accompany you to the city outskirts.”
“Thank you, Uncle Land!”
Facing Su Cha’s bright smile, Land’s heart skipped a beat. There would never be anyone cuter than the little prince.
Rong Shao jumped in first. “Let’s go—Team ‘He’s Here’ rides one last time!”
As Ji Tianjin and the others got in, Su Cha looked back once at the high school eagle statue, wings ready to soar, and waved at Li Huai and the rest.
The self-driving car turned from the path onto the main road.
This route passed through the city center—the Empire’s most bustling street. Suddenly, Su Cha’s comms device buzzed with a message from Xie Ruanjue.
[Forgive the Chief of Justice.]
Thinking he was referring to the minister recommending Shen Ningze to the energy chamber—or even pushing Shen Ningze forward as a Fog Star child—Su Cha was just about to reply that he hadn’t held a grudge, when Wu Shui suddenly gasped, “Su Cha.”
The main road was under lockdown for an hour today. It was eerily quiet—no sound at all.
The streets on either side were a sea of white. People had voluntarily come to the roadside. Some had likely been encouraged by the Chief of Justice, trying to redeem his mistake in misjudging Shen Ningze. They wanted to hold a proper farewell.
Everyone held up white 3D paper flowers—shaped precisely like Su Cha’s spirit form. But cold paper could only show white—it couldn’t replicate the pureness of lotus magnolias.
The paper blooms formed a spectacle of their own along the road.
As Galan Empire citizens, they didn’t yell or chant. They just stood in silence. Then Su Cha saw a flash of red—a banner—finally, a color that broke the pale monotony. The next second, his pupils shrank as he read the words:
—Thank you for having come.
In the Empire, black signified mourning. White didn’t mean anything in particular—just purity. But when it filled an entire street, the effect was staggering.
“….”
Su Cha’s story had always held a certain mythical quality. From his birth to being rescued, to his awakening—and especially the manifestation of his spirit form—he had become a national focus.
Online, someone had even made a tribute video of him: saving others during the prelims, shining bright during the Ten School League, the little mermaid moment… All set to background music—it was quite moving. And because the public saw the cultural exchange as genuine, they chose to come out and send him off this way.
From the crowd’s perspective, nothing seemed off. But from the black car, Su Cha felt like he was being given a state funeral.
Only Ji Tianjin remained unmoved. The others were clearly restless. Rong Shao forced a smile. “If I had one more chance…”
He would never have gotten into that car.
It wasn’t the flowers that suffocated him—it was the silence of an entire city.
And really, the car only took a few seconds to pass through. What could they say?
Wu Shui, ever thoughtful, whispered comfortingly, “You left too suddenly for them.”
There hadn’t been time to organize a grand farewell—only enough to prepare a street full of flowers overnight.
“….”
To make sure Su Cha had no regrets, Land had deliberately slowed the car’s speed. As it crawled along the main road, white flowers stretching endlessly ahead, Su Cha had only one thought left in his mind:
In this world, he had once been here.
