Chapter 58

In the early morning, faint rays of light filtered through the gaps in the trees, scattering softly across the ground.

Jing Chi and General Pei Rui had dressed in casual clothes. They journeyed from the prosperous heart of the city, where insects bustled about, into areas with ever fewer until they reached their destination: the Civilian District.

Ever since relinquishing his power, that general had kept an extremely low profile—even his home was in such a remote spot.

On this visit, they were simply representing Pei Rui’s teacher to pay respects to the senior.

Thus, Pei Rui brought only Jing Chi along. To any outsiders, Jing Chi still appeared to be a female insect.

Jing Chi gazed at the neighborhood before him, so ordinary it couldn’t be more so. A flicker of surprise passed through his eyes. After all, this hardly seemed like a fitting residence for the Empire’s Imperial Consort.

It was too plain—or, to put it bluntly, too rundown.

Seeing the look on Jing Chi’s face, Pei Rui let out a helpless chuckle. As he led the way inside, he explained, “This is where the senior and the King first met and fell in love. After moving here from the city center, the senior has lived here ever since.”

Jing Chi nodded in realization. He hadn’t expected the general to be quite so devoted. Then again, if his love weren’t so profound, how could he have resolutely stepped away from the pinnacle of power to hole up in a place like this?

As they pressed on, a small building that stood out slightly from the rest came into view.

Insects patrolled the perimeter outside. They stood ramrod straight, their faces impassive, radiating the stern, murderous air unique to the military.

The moment visitors appeared, one military female stepped out from within the door. He showed no surprise at the sight of Pei Rui and merely nodded. “General Pei Rui, you’ve arrived.”

Pei Rui inclined his head slightly. Noticing the female insect’s gaze shift to Jing Chi with a hint of wariness, he stepped forward and clarified, “This is my personal guard. He’s accompanying me to visit the general.”

The military female narrowed his eyes, his gaze lingering on Jing Chi.

Something about this insect struck him as vaguely familiar, reminiscent of someone he’d seen before.

Jing Chi’s lips curved in a faint smile as he nodded calmly at the insect opposite him.

Since General Pei Rui had brought him personally, the military female harbored no fears that Jing Chi posed a threat to the general.

He withdrew his gaze and waved a hand. The female insects standing guard behind him promptly cleared a path.

“You two, just follow me.”

“Much appreciated,” Pei Rui replied.

They entered to find a corridor ahead. Under the military female’s guidance, with Jing Chi following close behind Pei Rui, they soon reached the living room.

Jing Chi looked up. There, beside the glass window, sat a female insect.

He wore a loose shirt over a slender, emaciated frame. His long hair gleamed platinum—or so it seemed at first glance; upon closer inspection, Jing Chi realized it was golden locks threaded heavily with white.

The problem was that this general was only forty-six years old. In an age where every insect could expect to live to 120, he ought to be in the prime of life.

Yet an aura of utter desolation clung to him, devoid of even the slightest spark of vitality.

“Sir, General Pei Rui has arrived,” the female insect said respectfully.

At the sound, the insect slowly turned around. His features were handsome without question, but his skin bore the pallor of prolonged seclusion from the sun, evoking a sense of encroaching twilight.

He raised his eyes just a fraction, glancing at Pei Rui. His gaze remained utterly flat, devoid of any ripple. “No need for such trouble next time. I’ve already told Teacher that he doesn’t need to visit every year, and you needn’t come in his stead either. Luo Si, you’re dismissed for now.”

The military female nodded and withdrew.

Now only three insects remained in the living room.

“It’s no trouble at all. Teacher isn’t just concerned about your health—I’ve been eager for a chance to see you myself. You’ve always been my idol, after all.”

Jing Chi let out a soft sigh. Pei Rui’s face lit up with evident pleasure, his eyes burning with fervor in a way Jing Chi had rarely seen directed at himself.

That sigh drew all attention to him.

From the moment they’d arrived, General Benson hadn’t even noticed the insect standing behind Pei Rui.

Ever since settling here, he had ceased to care about anything at all.

But the instant his eyes fell upon Jing Chi’s face, General Benson’s expression transformed.

He strode swiftly to Jing Chi’s side and seized the young man’s arm in a grip.

“Who are you? What do you hope to achieve by disguising yourself like this?”

That face—so eerily similar to his Male Lord’s—stirred agitation across Benson’s formerly serene features, swiftly giving way to anger.

He would tolerate no insect defiling the memory of the one enshrined in his heart.

Reason warned him, too, that this smacked of conspiracy.

After all, what were the odds of two insects sharing such a resemblance?

To craft a face like this with such meticulous effort, all to target him? The notion was absurd.

Jing Chi stared back in bewilderment, shooting a pleading glance toward Pei Rui.

Pei Rui frowned, unsure why Benson’s expression had suddenly shifted so dramatically.

Even though the female insect before him was his idol, protecting Jing Chi’s safety came first for Pei Rui.

He pulled Jing Chi behind him, casting a soothing glance his way before turning to face Benson squarely. His expression was stern as he asked in a deep voice, “What do you mean by this, Senior?”

Realizing his lapse, Benson withdrew his hand. He lifted his gaze to Pei Rui’s serious face.

It brimmed with fierce protectiveness—not like one female insect shielding another, but more like one guarding a male insect.

He knew that look all too well. He had worn it himself once.

Unfortunately, the insect he had protected was gone forever.

Benson schooled his emotions and glanced at Pei Rui before returning to his seat. He crossed his legs and stared out the window, not directly answering the question. Instead, he said flatly, with utter certainty, “The one beside you is a male insect, isn’t he? And not just any—you two are close. Or should I say he’s your male lord? I’m right, aren’t I?”

A flicker of astonishment crossed Pei Rui’s eyes. He hadn’t expected this insect to discern Jing Chi’s identity as a male insect at a single glance.

A moment of panic seized him, but he quickly regained his composure. Pei Rui assumed Benson’s earlier behavior stemmed from him bringing a male insect here without permission. With a hint of apology, he said, “I’m sorry, Senior. I didn’t know you disliked male insects coming here. We’ll leave right away.”

But then Pei Rui heard the female insect across from him chuckle lightly, laced with sarcasm. “Pei Rui, as the Empire’s current General, do you really not know who he looks like?”

Benson had never once considered that Jing Chi might be his son. It was too fantastical.

Jing Chi blinked, looking at Pei Rui with feigned confusion. “Pei Rui, do I look like someone?”

For this future consort father of his, Jing Chi didn’t know what to say. The insect was irrational when he should have been logical, and now he was suspecting hidden motives.

Of course he had motives—to successfully oust Lantis from that position—but the undeniable truth was that he really was his son.

Pei Rui racked his brain. Actually, the first time he’d met Jing Chi, he’d felt a vague sense of familiarity.

Especially those black hair and black eyes—so rare in the Empire. Rare, but not nonexistent.

But as they spent more time together, Pei Rui had forgotten that familiarity.

Only now, with Benson bringing it up, did it click.

Black hair. Black eyes.

In an instant, he seemed to understand.

“That’s right—exactly as you’re thinking. He looks just like Adair.”

Benson turned back to face Pei Rui as he spoke, a trace of gentleness softening his calm features at the mention of that name.

No insect dared utter it aloud except Benson. After all, it was the name of the Empire’s king.

At that moment, Pei Rui grasped Benson’s deeper implication.

Pei Rui himself bore a striking resemblance to the departed one. Though he could scarcely remember that insect’s face anymore, Benson’s tone made it clear: the likeness was uncanny.

Insects in their position inevitably spun conspiracy theories.

That was why Benson thought as he did.

Jing Chi’s gaze fell on Pei Rui, who had gone momentarily stunned by the revelation. A thread of tension stirred in him too.

Would Pei Rui suspect him?

Jing Chi understood, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.

The next moment, however, he heard Pei Rui respond firmly. “Senior, I understand your suspicions, but I trust my male lord more. He is my—”

Jing Chi noticed Pei Rui glance at him. Those beautiful eyes held a swirl of complex emotions, but doubt was nowhere among them.

“He is the insect I will protect for the rest of my life.” Pei Rui stood ramrod straight, meeting Benson’s gaze with unprecedented resolve. “So I won’t suspect him.”

Now it was Benson’s turn to be mildly surprised.

He hadn’t expected this male insect to have such a firm hold on General Pei Rui.

“We won’t disturb you any longer, Senior,” Pei Rui said. Without waiting for a reply, he took Jing Chi’s hand to leave.

Benson frowned, impatience flickering across his features.

Pei Rui might not suspect, but Benson needed to verify for himself.

“Before you go, I need to confirm that the insect beside you isn’t using some artificial disguise for his appearance.”

Pei Rui found Benson’s demand absurd and moved to refuse.

But in the next instant, he felt Jing Chi tug his left hand.

Jing Chi stepped forward, lips curving slightly. He didn’t mind Benson’s so-called inspection at all. Instead, he said meaningfully:

“I can accept the inspection, but please don’t regret it, Senior.”

At that moment, Benson still didn’t understand what Jing Chi meant.

Of course, he probably didn’t want to understand either.

Soon, Benson summoned a professional military female from the army who specialized in such checks.

Jing Chi only felt hands groping across his face, followed by instruments scanning it back and forth.

The process wasn’t complicated, but it felt utterly humiliating.

No wonder Pei Rui had wanted to refuse. No male insect could tolerate a stranger female insect pawing freely at his face.

Pei Rui’s expression grew darker by the second.

Finally, the inspection came to an end.

The military female reported his findings. “Reporting to the General: this gentleman’s face shows no signs of alteration, and he’s not wearing any anti-recognition mask.”

Incredulity flashed in Benson’s eyes. How could there really be another insect who looked so much like Adair?

The inspecting military female departed.

Pei Rui kept his face impassive. He didn’t even glance at Benson, his voice laced with cold detachment. “Since it’s over, we’ll be taking our leave.”

It was clear he now harbored deep resentment toward Benson. This insect might have been his idol since childhood, but in Pei Rui’s heart, not even an idol had the right to humiliate Jing Chi like this.

Jing Chi let Pei Rui pull him away without resistance. As they left, he glanced back at Benson.

After receiving this unforeseen result, the general stood frozen like a wooden statue, his face a mask of complicated emotions.

How laughable. How pitiful.

This once dashing Empire General was ultimately trapped in the prison he had built for himself.

A prison named Adair.