While the Federation and the system were each busy with their own agendas, Su Cha was still spinning endlessly, forcing himself to endure the extreme nausea as he barely managed to ask, “What kind of wormhole is this? It’s been so long… we still… we still can’t get out.”
The value of a wormhole lies in its ability to enable instant teleportation, but what they were experiencing felt less like a wormhole and more like a bottomless pit.
Ji Tianjin sighed, “We’ve entered another wormhole.”
If he remembered correctly, Su Cha had heard this exact same answer not long ago.
The navigation system still hadn’t recovered, so Ji Tianjin switched the spaceship to autopilot. The meteorite impact had triggered a chain of butterfly effects, affecting the surrounding space within tens of billions of light-years.
“This isn’t a natural disaster.”
If it had just been suspicion before, Ji Tianjin now was almost certain. Some of the broken space nodes were highly suspicious—someone was deliberately guiding them through one wormhole after another toward an unknown destination.
When the magnetic field stabilized, the navigation system finally came back online. The map was covered in scattered gray markers, not a single one named.
Ji Tianjin said, “We fell into a wormhole on the outskirts of the interstellar battlefield.”
The shock made Su Cha’s pupils dilate slightly, and for a moment he completely forgot his nausea. He asked uncertainly, “That wormhole that can instantly cross over seven billion light-years?”
Ji Tianjin nodded. “The navigation range of this spaceship is five billion light-years.”
They had clearly gone far beyond that. Around the interstellar battlefield, only one wormhole could meet this condition.
Su Cha was somewhat puzzled. Although there had been an accident during the competition, at most they could just arrange additional rounds later. He could still win control over the wormhole. Why would the system go to such lengths to orchestrate all of this?
Unless… he had misjudged the situation, and the system wasn’t involved?
“Impossible…”
Only the system had the ability to pull off something this outrageous.
Ji Tianjin overheard his muttering and looked at him with some concern. “Are you okay?”
Su Cha waved it off. “I’m fine.”
Then he looked at Ji Tianjin with equal concern and said, “But you might not be.”
If things really were as he suspected, Ji Tianjin might have to leave his homeland for a while.
Wait, hasn’t he already been away from home for years?
“Left home young, returned old…”
“What?”
“Nothing, just—some things never change even though your temples are gray.”
He was talking more and more nonsense. Ji Tianjin reached out to touch Su Cha’s forehead. His temperature was a little high—probably from the dizziness. There was some distance between the pilot and co-pilot seats, so just as Ji Tianjin unfastened his seatbelt and leaned in to check, the spaceship suddenly jolted violently.
The next thing he knew, Ji Tianjin felt something soft press against his lips.
One leaned forward out of imbalance, the other looked up in surprise.
In that moment, the touch on their lips became even more tangible.
Su Cha had been thinking about the Flower Demon Clan just a second ago, but his mind was now completely blank.
“Wha—” What’s going on?
As soon as he opened his mouth, they bumped into each other again.
Ji Tianjin trembled, and both of them instantly stopped thinking.
The violent shaking of the spaceship was due to seamlessly falling into another wormhole, an unstable one at that. The ship was already riddled with damage from the beasts’ attacks, and it was on the verge of falling apart, having been held together this long purely by spirit force. Now the outer shell was almost entirely destroyed, the rattling noises sharp and terrifying.
Ji Tianjin’s gaze finally refocused. “Sorry, I…”
Still dizzy, Su Cha had no choice but to cling tightly to Ji Tianjin’s waist to keep him from being flung away. He said helplessly, “Your timing for unbuckling your seatbelt was really something.”
Cold wind howled into the ship through the cracks. Ji Tianjin quickly erected a barrier with his Spiritual energy to protect the two of them. Su Cha had never felt this awful—he was nearly in a state of hypothermia.
“I feel hot.”
The extreme cold made him hallucinate a burning sensation.
“Just hold on a little longer.”
As soon as he said that, the spaceship finally exited the wormhole and plunged straight down from high altitude. The autopilot system malfunctioned. Ji Tianjin wrapped one arm around Su Cha and reached sideways to grab the control stick, pulling hard. The console was flashing yellow warning signs, the alarms blaring. Without hesitation, he steered the spaceship toward the ocean.
From the high skies to the crash took only a few minutes. The ship dove into the water. In his overdrawn state, Ji Tianjin finally couldn’t hold on and slipped into semi-consciousness.
Su Cha and Ji Tianjin had always divided tasks clearly. Su Cha had intentionally saved a bit of energy just in case so at least one of them could still move.
Now, who knew how many meters deep they were underwater? Su Cha dragged Ji Tianjin out through the shattered glass. Without goggles, everything around him was pitch-black. His Spiritual energy was draining rapidly. Unable to swim up on his own, Su Cha had to release the magnolia lotus, using its two large leaves as stepping platforms to push himself upward.
The magnolia lotus, being used as a footstool: “…”
It chose to stay silent—partly because it didn’t want to curse out loud.
Worried that the spaceship might explode, Su Cha desperately sped up. When he finally broke through the surface, he exhaled deeply, “I survived.”
Not daring to waste a moment, he continued dragging Ji Tianjin toward the shore, repeatedly calling his name along the way, but there was no response. After struggling to pull him onto land, Su Cha immediately checked his condition.
Low body temperature, heartbeat present, but his breathing was barely detectable… Without hesitation, Su Cha began performing CPR.
The faint floral scent lingered between their lips. Ji Tianjin, who had just regained some awareness, didn’t know whether he should push him away or not.
He didn’t want to take advantage of him like this, but his eyes and hands seemed to have their own will—one couldn’t open, the other couldn’t lift, let alone push him away.
The spirit form had always aligned with its master’s will. When rationality and emotion clashed, the spirit form would unconditionally side with rationality.
The white tiger appeared automatically, its paw patting Su Cha’s leg: He’s fine.
Su Cha’s expression instantly turned complicated. If the spirit form was this lively, the man definitely wasn’t in danger.
The air turned heavy with silence.
Ji Tianjin finally opened his eyes, but as their gazes met, he quickly looked away, uncomfortable. In the end, he was the one to speak first, steering the topic back to the important matter: “When we were passing through the wormhole, the ship was subjected to unprecedented pressure. This only happens near low- to mid-level planets.”
After a brief pause, “The distance is too far—it won’t be easy to contact the Empire.”
Su Cha pondered for a moment, then suddenly snapped his fingers lightly. “I’ve got an idea.”
“What?”
“Hit me.”
“???”
Su Cha spoke in a patient, teacher-like tone: “You must control your strength—enough to make me feel like I’m facing a life-or-death crisis, but not actually injure me. When I really feel it, Cyril will sense it.”
The spirit connection between purebloods was just that wonderfully mysterious.
Ji Tianjin gave him a deep look and seriously said, “Building a battleship on the spot would be easier than this.”
“Nothing in the world is truly difficult. If I can immerse you completely into the role of Fasite, maybe it’ll work.”
“…”
Without the slightest warning, one second it seemed like Ji Tianjin was about to say something, and the next, his fist shot out with lightning speed—stopping just in time, leaving only a faint breeze.
Su Cha stared at the fist hovering right in front of him and suddenly burst out laughing. “Sorry.” He laughed so hard he was nearly doubled over, and only after half a minute did he barely regain his composure. “Try again.”
Ji Tianjin remained motionless.
Su Cha pulled out his ultimate trick: “Older Brother*, this time for sure.”
The way he called “older brother” actually made Ji Tianjin’s fist tingle a little.
Ji Tianjin was still thinking about when to scare him when Su Cha couldn’t help but start laughing again.
“…When I was trying to fully imagine you as Fasite’s face… it just felt inexplicably funny.”
Su Cha’s sense of humor had always been a bit strange. When he finally stopped laughing, he looked at the blue sky and white clouds under this alien sky, his gaze going blank for a moment. The curve of his lips slowly flattened, and though it was unclear what he was thinking of, his expression suddenly seemed a bit desolate.
After a long while, he squeezed out a sentence: “The ship’s gone. Getting back now will be a problem.”
The sea breeze carried the lingering smell of the ship’s fuel. Actually, Su Cha more or less knew where they were. He closed his eyes in exhaustion.
Thinking he was troubled by their current predicament, Ji Tianjin originally wanted to pat his thin shoulder in comfort. His hand paused midair and instead gently ruffled Su Cha’s hair.
“Let’s just see this as a trip,” he said softly. “The scenery here isn’t bad. Lower-tier planets generally don’t have strange beasts.”
Su Cha pursed his lips. “But…”
“Don’t think too much. A break might be good.”
Ji Tianjin continued, “Except when you’re unconscious, you’ve barely had any rest all this time. At least here, there are no space pirates or the crazy Shiyuan clan, no endless competitions to fight. Without those entanglements of interests, everyone is a stranger, and they’re also… kind.”
He rarely spoke so much, his voice clear and gentle.
Su Cha turned his head slightly. “But…”
“No buts.” Ji Tianjin stood up and reached out his hand to him. “Cheer up. Why not start with watching the sunset?”
It was already getting late. The sunset wouldn’t take long to arrive.
Just as their hands were about to clasp, an untimely shout came from the distance—
“It’s Su Cha!”
These people were clearly not ordinary; their eyesight was excellent, able to see every blade of grass and even Su Cha’s face from afar.
The Flower Demon Clan had recently issued a public bounty for Su Cha, claiming he may have already fallen to demonic influence, and the reward was particularly generous.
There was no need to double-check the photo. Su Cha’s stunning face was unforgettable at a glance.
These people had originally come because of the huge disturbance, but unexpectedly stumbled upon such a surprise. There were many of them today, and even if Su Cha really had fallen to demonic ways, they weren’t afraid.
Su Cha immediately grabbed Ji Tianjin’s hand. “Run!”
Both of their spiritual powers were depleted. Facing so many people head-on, their chances of winning were slim.
Ji Tianjin instinctively ran with him. At this moment, forget watching the sunset—they didn’t even have time to glance at the green mountains and clear waters. The wind howled past their ears as they sprinted.
“Capture him, dead or alive!” The voices of their pursuers echoed from behind.
Ji Tianjin was sure he hadn’t misheard. These people had specifically named Su Cha. His expression turned a little strange. “You have enemies even here?”
If he remembered correctly, they were at least 8 billion light-years away from their previous location.
Su Cha gave an awkward laugh. “Surprised?”
He added after a pause, “Actually, there are still many surprises you don’t know about.”
This was just the beginning—none of his familiar arch-enemies had even shown up yet. The truly dangerous ones were still to come.
“…”
