By the time Luo Fei and Emile returned to the villa, it was noon. The banquet was about to officially begin. The invited guests were being ushered into the formal banquet hall.
The scale of the Mo family’s hall rivaled a seven-star hotel on the Capital Star. The soaring ten-meter-high suspended ceiling made the room feel impossibly spacious and grand. Priceless artworks adorned the walls. A massive crystal chandelier cascaded down from the center, reflecting off the polished marble floors and bathing the entire hall in glittering, radiant light.
Guests mingled in groups, their chatter a low hum… until a group appeared on the second floor. The hall fell into an immediate, respectful silence.
On the second floor, surrounded discreetly by bodyguards, a white-haired elder leaning on a cane walked in the center. Beside him was a middle-aged man in a perfectly tailored formal suit. Following behind them were a young woman in a striking floor-length red evening gown and a young man in a pristine white swallowtail coat.
The silver-haired elder was clearly the guest of honor, the focus of today’s celebration. The middle-aged man carefully supporting him was none other than Mo Qiming, current CEO of the Fengyang Group.
Mo Qiming’s gaze swept over the assembled guests. A professional, genial smile touched his lips as he spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon. Today is my father’s one-hundredth birthday. On behalf of all the younger generations of the Mo family, I wish him a joyous birthday and continued good health. I also wish to take this opportunity to extend our most sincere gratitude to every guest present. Thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to attend today’s celebration…”
They were standard formalities, but the moment he spoke, the entire hall fell into a hush. Pin-drop silence descended, carrying only the weight of his deep, resonating voice. This middle-aged man possessed an aura of unspoken authority. A true titan of commerce.
Luo Fei looked past him, toward the figure behind him. He met a pair of familiar eyes, and his heart gave an involuntary lurch.
—Those eyes. They were etched deeply in his memory.
He had seen those eyes on the interstellar ship. Clear, bright as starlight, corners slightly upturned with a proud tilt. The color was lighter than most—a pale, mesmerizing amber. Cold and distant, like the rarest gem in a vault display. Forbidding to touch; only to be admired from afar.
Back then, the mask had hidden his face.
But now, Luo Fei could see that face clearly. And it was… even more striking than he’d imagined.
The creator had been overly generous with him. His features could be called exquisite. Graceful brows, a straight nose, lips that curved just so… all lending this face an air of cool, sharp refinement. His gaze was calm and unruffled as he followed his father. Though he lacked the older man’s seasoned, heavyweight presence, he commanded a respect that none in the hall dared dismiss.
He stood above them on the staircase. From this upward angle, his legs seemed impossibly elongated, straight and long. Perhaps even famous models didn’t have legs this aesthetically pleasing.
He should be an Alpha, right? Luo Fei could perceive the faint Alpha aura around him. But strangely, this aura didn’t exude the fierce oppressiveness typical of Alphas. Instead, it was unusually mild, difficult to dislike.
Unlike the brawny build of a typical Alpha, his was a more streamlined, wiry frame. The image of a perfectly elegant, noble scion.
…
Mo Qiming’s speech concluded. The burst of applause across the hall jolted Luo Fei out of his daze.
Looking over, he saw the Mo family had already descended into the crowd.
Old Master Mo, celebrating his hundredth birthday, was in high spirits. Leaning on his cane, he smiled and greeted familiar faces. Mo Qiming, the picture of a filial son, remained at his father’s side, supporting him. The two behind him—the red-dressed woman and the young man in the swallowtail coat—also stuck close, exchanging polite small talk with the business tycoons.
Luo Fei leaned towards Emile and murmured, “That’s Mo Han?”
Emile confirmed, “Yeah, that’s him.”
“The woman beside him?” Luo Fei asked.
“His cousin. Apparently, they grew up together and are very close.”
Luo Fei’s gaze found the cousin. She was beautiful. But unlike the fragile Omega archetype, her smile was strikingly confident.
As he observed, Emile nudged him with an elbow. “Old Master Mo is heading this way. Let’s go pay our respects.”
Luo Fei nodded. The two picked up their wine glasses and walked over.
Emile raised his glass respectfully. “Old Master Mo, happy birthday!”
The elder didn’t recognize him. Mo Qiming stepped in to explain. “This is the youngest son of Mr. David and Princess Xiya. Emile.”
Emile smoothly filled in. “My father is in the Cigar Galaxy and couldn’t make it back, so he sent me in his place. I heard you are particularly fond of red wine, Old Master. I brought a case I brewed myself for you to sample.”
Old Master Mo’s eyes crinkled with delight. “Oh, how thoughtful! Send my regards to your parents when you return. Tell your mother to take good care of her health.”
“I’ll be sure to pass on the message.”
As they exchanged obligatory pleasantries, Mo Qiming’s sharp eyes caught the young man with an extraordinary aura standing just behind Emile. He lowered his voice. “And this is…?”
Luo Fei gave a respectful half-bow. “Pleased to meet you, CEO Mo. I’m Emile’s personal assistant. I accompanied the young master to today’s celebration.”
Emile: “…”
Mo Qiming studied him, his mind turning. Personal assistant? A mere assistant shouldn’t have such a unique, commanding presence. And standing next to Emile… it almost seemed like his aura was the stronger one. Perhaps his real identity was sensitive, and “assistant” was just a convenient cover?
Mo Qiming gave a bland, polite smile. “I have some old friends to greet. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
With that, he turned, supporting the Old Master away. Mo Han gave Emile a polite nod, about to follow his father. But Luo Fei stepped forward, positioning himself in front of Mo Han.
A slight smile on his lips, he said, “So, we meet again. Coding expert.”
“…” Mo Han’s eyebrow arched as he regarded him.
Luo Fei extended his hand. “Let’s be friends.”
Mo Han didn’t respond.
Luo Fei’s hand remained hovering in the air. “The last time I said this, your answer was, ‘No need,’ and that we likely wouldn’t meet again. But here we are… meeting again.” His smile remained fixed on the other’s face. “So… let’s be friends. I don’t fancy being rejected twice.”
Mo Han: “…”
Those deep brown eyes seemed so warm, brimming with a smile that seemed to say: Stop pretending. I know it’s you.
Mo Han glanced at Emile. “Senior, is he really your personal assistant?”
Emile immediately jumped in. “That’s right! My father hired him a while back.”
“Name?” Mo Han asked curtly.
Before Emile could reply, Luo Fei smoothly supplied, “My name is Allen. I was on a business trip to the Capital Star recently and was on the return flight to the Lyra Constellation. I ran into you on the ship. You wore a mask, so I didn’t see your face, but your eyes and your voice… they left a deep impression. So I asked Emile to introduce us. I’d like to be friends. I wonder if I have that honor?”
Mo Han watched him with an unnervingly level gaze. No hint of anything amiss flickered in the other’s expression.
A moment passed. Then a faint, unreadable smile touched Mo Han’s lips. He reached out, briefly clasping the offered hand. “Hello.”
He’d made it clear—he recognized his eyes and voice. Denying it would be pointless.
Still… claiming to be Emile’s personal assistant? Mo Han didn’t buy it for a second.
The man’s gaze was too direct, too open. In this gathering of commercial giants, he showed absolutely no sign of being cowed. He was perfectly at ease, unnaturally composed.
Mr. David getting his youngest son an assistant… such a hire was meant to help the heir acclimate to company affairs. Usually, the assistant shadowing a successor would be a seasoned veteran, intimately familiar with company operations. This person stood before him, looking composed, yes, but he was only about twenty years old, if that. Coupled with how… deferential Emile seemed towards him? Calling him an “assistant”? Only an idiot would believe that.
Mo Han withdrew his hand smoothly, a bland, probing smile touching his lips. “If I recall, the hiring standards for assistants at Emile’s family company are incredibly strict. Only top graduates from elite universities even qualify for an interview. So… you must be quite the academic yourself, then?”
On the surface, standard, polite small talk. But Luo Fei felt a sharp jolt. Mo Han was suspicious.
Scrambling, Luo Fei mentally called for Chongming using his mental power: Search the Imperial database for the name ‘Allen’. Prioritize graduates from top universities.
With billions in the Empire, duplicate names were inevitable, especially something as common as “Allen.”
Chongming’s search speed was blazing. It instantly generated a list of university graduates named “Allen.” Cleverly, it filtered for physical similarities to its master, locking onto the closest match. “Master, there’s an Allen, a graduate of Herman University in Agricultural Science and Engineering. The eyebrows and nose resemble yours slightly.”
Receiving the data relay, Luo Fei smoothly met Mo Han’s eyes, his smile unbroken. “I graduated from Herman University’s Agricultural Science and Engineering program. I suppose that makes us alumni.”
Chongming: “…”
Master’s improvisation skills are top-notch. Though, having an S-Class intelligent mecha helps!
Mo Han’s brow arched. “But you don’t look any older than me.”
Luo Fei gave a modest shrug. “I have a youthful face. Actually, I’m three years older than Emile.”
Emile: “…”
Keep spinning your tales! I’m three years older than YOU.
Catching Mo Han’s glance, Emile gave a hearty, forced laugh, backing up the lie. “That’s right! Allen was my senior back at university. An absolute academic legend. Father technically hired him as my assistant, but really… it’s so I can learn from him.”
Mo Han looked at Luo Fei, a faint, cryptic smile on his lips. “A senior, is it?”
Luo Fei, thoroughly stealing an advantage, beamed. “Mm. Junior… it’s a pleasure. Meeting twice in a row… fate must have something in store for us.”
Mo Han’s gaze shifted. “Help yourselves to the food. I’ll find you two later.”
Luo Fei’s pleasant smile didn’t waver. “Of course. Go do what you need to do.”
—
The moment Mo Han was out of sight, Emile let out a huge sigh. He leaned in, whispering, “You spun that whole cover story so smoothly… do you think Mo Han bought it?”
Luo Fei rubbed his chin. “He should. I had Chongming search the databases. There really is an ‘Allen,’ graduate of Herman’s Agricultural Science program. If Mo Han gets suspicious and looks up Allen, the data will match what I described.”
Emile shook his head in grudging admiration. “With Chongming linked to your brain, you’re basically carrying the entire Imperial database!”
Luo Fei’s gaze tracked the distant figure of Mo Han, voice dropping low. “I didn’t want to lie to him. But I can’t exactly reveal my identity yet. Not now.”
—
After the required round of socializing with his father, greeting the banquet guests, Mo Han slipped into a side parlor adjacent to the main hall.
The door clicked shut. He immediately summoned his intelligent mecha, Noah. “Access the internal network of the airline. Search for the passenger manifest of the flight on December 21st from the Capital Star to the Lyra Constellation. Run full facial recognition against the person I just met. Find him.”
“Yes, Master.” Noah worked at lightning speed, querying the systems. “Should I run a background check on ‘Allen’ as well?”
“Don’t bother,” Mo Han said dismissively. “Allen is a fake name. Use the airline records. Interstellar ship tickets require real-name registration. I want his real name.”
“Understood!” Noah launched into its task.
Seconds later, the search flagged a match. A profile filled the holographic screen.
The young man in the image had just cleared the interstellar security checkpoint and was boarding the ship. He wore simple, casual attire. A relaxed, pleasant smile touched his lips. The exact same face Mo Han had encountered on the ship.
His registered name: Luo Fei Watson.
—The surname of the Imperial Royal Family.
—And that crystal card, so clumsily wrapped in a blue protective casing to mask the platinum beneath.
Mo Han’s eyes narrowed. A sharp, knowing smile curved his lips. “The First Prince. Trying to act in front of me… You’re far, far too green.”
