Yan Xinfeng pressed his lips tight, the darkness in his eyes growing heavier.
34 hours later, a military starship arrived at the Border Military District’s docking port. When it truly landed, the scent of extinguished fuel evoked the image of footsteps treading a wartime path littered with spent casings.
The Border Military District was filled with such smells everywhere.
Inside the starship, Wei Tingxia tilted his head to watch the drab scenery outside the porthole. He didn’t avoid Lin Tao as he took a gold-blue agent from the small case beside him, deftly peeled off the seal, aimed the injection end at his forearm, and pierced the needle into his skin. A pungent, unfamiliar alpha scent rapidly spread, and Wei Tingxia’s face promptly paled.
Lin Tao watched from the side with a frown and couldn’t help reminding him, “Your dosage is too high.”
“Hm?”
Wei Tingxia half-lifted his eyes, glanced at his arm, then at Lin Tao. He had just injected the camouflage agent and was feeling uncomfortable, so he didn’t react quickly.
“It’s fine,” he said once he caught on. “I know what I’m doing.”
Lin Tao couldn’t see where he had any measure. “Your current physical condition isn’t suitable for any unfamiliar alpha pheromones at all. You should stay calm and go see—”
“—Go where?” Wei Tingxia asked her.
The words stuck in Lin Tao’s throat; she couldn’t say it.
Wei Tingxia chuckled mockingly, expertly disposed of the agent, and stood to straighten his clothes.
His blurred half-shadow reflected in the porthole, its edges sharp as if sliced by a blade. Wei Tingxia stretched his body and said casually, “I just stabbed him. He must hate my guts now, right?”
Not necessarily, Lin Tao thought to herself. The relationship between Yan Xinfeng and Wei Tingxia couldn’t be judged by normal logic—it had been complicated before, and now it was even more so, tangled like a ball of live wires that would shock anyone who touched it.
But with the conversation at this point, Wei Tingxia’s stance was clear, so Lin Tao stopped persuading.
She picked up her luggage and followed behind Wei Tingxia as they slowly disembarked the starship.
Lin Wensi’s adjutant was already waiting below—a young, dark-skinned guy with a big grin of white teeth. When he saw Wei Tingxia emerge, he beamed and saluted.
“Sir!”
Wei Tingxia returned the salute and asked, “Where’s Lin Wensi?”
The adjutant replied, “The legion commander is out on patrol. He’ll be back in about five hours.”
Unlike other military districts, the Border Military District had a huge number of detachments on external patrols with virtually no gaps—that was one of the features of border defense. As legion commander, Lin Wensi led by example and joined an outbound patrol every day.
“I understand,” Wei Tingxia nodded and glanced at Lin Tao standing behind them. “The quarters arranged for me need to accommodate at least two people.”
The adjutant grinned. “Sir, listen to you. The Border Military District may be poor, but it can house two people no problem!”
The deputy commander’s residence in the Border Military District was arranged in the backyard of the command center—a standalone courtyard right next to Lin Wensi’s quarters. After entering and looking around, Wei Tingxia turned his gaze to Lin Tao.
Lin Tao said, “I’ve slept in rubble heaps during my poorest times.”
That meant no problem.
Wei Tingxia shrugged and walked back to the adjutant still waiting at the door.
The young man had clearly been waiting to speak to Wei Tingxia alone. Seeing him approach, he stopped smiling, his expression turning serious as he lowered his voice. “The Emperor issued an extra order to the legion commander to assist you in clearing out the new-type Zerg. The commander hasn’t replied.”
Wei Tingxia raised an eyebrow.
This order from the emperor had only been passed to Lin Wensi; Wei Tingxia was unaware of it. If the two had no prior interaction and relied solely on the word “auxiliary,” Lin Wensi certainly would not have given Wei Tingxia a good look.
By then, the two would dislike each other in the military district, and if things got out of hand, the emperor could step in and take direct control.
At his advanced age, the old emperor’s cunning only grew sharper. The Border Military District might be remote, but it was of vital importance to the entire Empire. To use it as a political bargaining chip like this was sheer madness.
Wei Tingxia sneered and leaned against the doorframe. “Where did these new-type Zerg come from? Aren’t they just space movers?”
His tone was mocking, and after he spoke, the adjutant laughed along.
Yes, there had never been any powerful, frenzied bugs like those in the videos. They were a harmless variety common outside the Border Military District, surviving on trace elements in the atmosphere and even benefiting the environment through migration. They had mild temperaments and no aggression.
The old emperor had not left the Capital Star in nearly a century, so how would he know about this species? Lin Wensi had simply picked a few video clips and sent them back to the Capital Star, fooling him completely.
As the laughter faded, the adjutant said seriously, “The military district lying to the Capital Star isn’t a first, Your Highness.” His voice lowered. “If you can truly succeed… please bear with us.”
Lin Wensi always claimed he took no sides, but from the moment he chose to help Wei Tingxia deceive the old emperor, he had already boarded this ship.
Despite being missing for three years with no news and having unremarkable achievements compared to his brothers, Lin Wensi had staked his trust without hesitation, as if throwing all his chips into a gamble whose outcome was still uncertain.
And this complete trust stemmed from a sudden late-night conversation a few days earlier.
No one knew how Wei Tingxia had connected the communication signal to Lin Wensi’s mecha. But the moment his voice appeared, every word was ice-cold and clear, piercing through the low hum of the cockpit engine and the faint scraping of interstellar dust against the hull, precisely embedding into Lin Wensi’s eardrums:
“Legion Commander Lin, three years ago, the Blue Nail Ship was attacked and self-destructed for no reason. I hear it was related to the Capital Star. Want to hear the black box recording?”
The Blue Nail Ship belonged to the Border Military District, a long-range sniper reconnaissance warship that had been in service for only 23 years. During a routine border patrol, it lost signal without cause, then self-destructed hundreds of light-years from the Border Military District, above a Zerg nest.
Throughout the process, the Border Military District received no distress signals related to the Blue Nail Ship, as if it had vanished into thin air. It was not until a year later, when another patrol recovered fragments of the warship, that the military district confirmed the deaths of the relevant personnel.
This incident had been a thorn in Lin Wensi’s heart. After confirming that Wei Tingxia truly had evidence, he cooperated with the subsequent plan without a second thought.
This was the quality a legion commander should have; he had to be responsible for his soldiers.
…
After chatting idly with the adjutant for a few sentences, Wei Tingxia returned to the house and immediately saw Lin Tao sitting primly on the sofa, her gaze fixed straight on him.
They had only been together for a few days, but the girl had already shed her fear, as if certain that Wei Tingxia would not kill her.
“What do you want?” Wei Tingxia asked.
Lin Tao said, “You came here to find him.”
Wei Tingxia did not deny it. “Yes.”
“Then how will you guarantee my safety?” Lin Tao grew anxious. “I have no legal status in the Empire; I’m just a beta. If you leave the military district, I could be taken away at any time, and then they’ll spot my name on the wanted list!”
“Calm down,” Wei Tingxia raised his hand in a soothing gesture. “The bounty on my head on the wanted list is even higher than yours. What’s there to fear?”
This was no joke. The Empire had always been hunting the star pirate group under Yan Xinfeng. Wei Tingxia, as Yan Xinfeng’s omega, had never shown his face, but he still had a spot on the wanted list, with a bounty only slightly less than Yan Xinfeng’s.
Lin Tao keenly sensed the faint pride in his words. “Are you… proud of that?”
The Empire’s second prince was on the Empire’s wanted list, and with a massive bounty.
Wei Tingxia nodded, admitting it without hesitation. “Yes.”
Damn it, this AO pair was abnormal.
Lin Tao was out of moves. She stood up, paced in place for two circles, then looked back at Wei Tingxia. “Then take care of yourself.”
She could neither retreat to the Empire nor advance to find Yan Xinfeng; she could only be stuck in the Border Military District with Wei Tingxia.
For the eight hundredth time, Lin Tao regretted meddling and peeking at Wei Tingxia’s medical report.
It was all her own fault.
The sorrowful Doctor Lin turned and left the living room. She needed to sleep and then face the troubles ahead.
Wei Tingxia watched her departing back with a smile, then turned to see that System 0188 had already compiled his current physical condition report into a table and flung it in front of him.
[First, you shouldn’t have used so many fake pheromones in such a short time. Second, you’re in a special period right now and need Yan Xinfeng.]
It repeated the information it had said millions of times, as if eager to etch it into Wei Tingxia’s brain.
[Your hormone levels are on the verge of chaos. I don’t want to put it harshly, but if you don’t get a timely supplement of effective pheromones, you’ll soon enter a fully malignant heat.]
Going into heat in the Border Military District, right under everyone’s noses—this was absolutely the last thing Wei Tingxia wanted.
“Help me locate Yan Xinfeng’s position,” he decided swiftly. “And find me a mecha without surveillance or tracking.”
Finding such a mecha elsewhere might be hard, but this was the border; it was all too easy.
Thus, when Lin Wensi finished his patrol and returned to the military district, ready to discuss follow-up plans with Wei Tingxia, he received word that Wei Tingxia had temporarily left.
“Where did he go?”
The adjutant shook his head. “No surveillance; he probably dismantled all the necessary parts the moment he boarded the mecha.”
The moves were extremely practiced—a dead giveaway of a habitual offender. The adjutant recalled that this second prince had been missing for three years and suddenly thought he might have spent those years piloting mechas.
Lin Wensi frowned tightly, still carrying the smell of gunpowder from his mecha. He glanced toward the command center and asked again, “Did he bring a female beta with him?”
“Yes, she didn’t leave.” The adjutant said, “Your Highness probably just wanted to look around; he’ll be back soon.”
Even if he wasn’t just looking around, Lin Wensi could not send a large force to search for him.
No one in the imperial family was easy; they were all trouble, and Wei the Second was no exception.
Lin Wensi found it increasingly troublesome, but the Blue Nail Ship incident could not be brushed aside. No matter what, he had to cooperate with Wei Tingxia, if only to honor the fallen.