Chapter 38: Something Unusual Part 2

“That’s not on me,” Wei Tingxia’s fingertips unconsciously tapped the edge of the console. “Who told you to sneak a peek at my medical report.”

Suffocating silence fell on the other end of the comms.

“…He’s coming to the Border Military District?” Lin Tao’s voice rose again, with a faint tremble.

“Yes.”

“I have one request. If it really happens, tell him it has nothing to do with me.” Lin Tao’s tone grew agitated. “The child has nothing to do with me—its death even less so!”

Her sharp voice echoed endlessly in the mecha. Wei Tingxia’s gaze darkened a bit as he fiddled with the adjustment buttons on the console.

“Calm down,” he said offhandedly. “No one’s saying it’s got anything to do with you.”

“Is that so? But it sure looks that way now.” Lin Tao’s voice was strung tight like a cord about to snap, long-forgotten fear surging up to drown her. “You got pregnant, betrayed the leader and left the base, miscarried in under 15 hours… and the only one by your side the whole time was me!”

“That just proves you’re a good doctor.” Wei Tingxia’s voice held no ripples.

“Or it could make people think the whole thing was my doing!” Lin Tao was nearly shouting. “That was his child! How could he not care? If he thinks I—!”

“—That was the thing in my belly. Only I decide if it lives or dies.”

Wei Tingxia raised his voice to cut her off, ice-cold. “You haven’t got the situation straight. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t even a child yet—no bigger than a fingernail. Don’t think its life was that important.”

Lin Tao fell silent. The comm channel held only heavy, oppressive static.

Wei Tingxia ended the call.

[Related communication content has been blocked.] System 0188:

“Thanks.”

[You’re welcome,] 0188 asked. [You’re really not going to tell him?]

Wei Tingxia sneered derisively. “If it’s gone, it’s gone. What’s there to say about it?”

[This might be a breakthrough.]

System 0188 projected the index chart, which it had not displayed for a long time, back into the center of his field of vision. The Collapse Index was steadily declining.

[He harbors doubts in his heart. If you tell him the truth, the index will drop rapidly.]

This broken system only understood data, not human hearts.

Wei Tingxia propped his leg up on the control panel. “I don’t want to say.”

[Why? The outcome is clearly beneficial.]

“Even if the outcome is beneficial, I still don’t want to say. Why should I tell him?”

Wei Tingxia’s voice carried irritation. “This matter is already over. That’s the end of it.”

System 0188’s biggest flaw was that it did not know how to read people’s expressions. [Are you angry at him? Or are you worried he will be angry?]

Wei Tingxia vehemently denied it. “It has nothing to do with that. It’s simply not important.”

He did not want to face Yan Xinfeng’s gaze upon learning the truth, nor did he want to hear anything he might say. None of this was Wei Tingxia’s fault; the real culprit was someone else, and Wei Tingxia was preparing to smash that person’s head in.

“Not important at all.”

He repeated it softly once more, as if saying it to himself.

His fingertip unconsciously rubbed against the cold control panel. Wei Tingxia could hardly recall the intense pain when the change had occurred; the only thing he remembered was a hollow exhaustion, heavy as lead sinking deep into his abdomen, more real than any sense of weightlessness.

That mass of tissue had indeed been as light as dust. It had come too unexpectedly and left too quickly, not even leaving a trace detectable by instruments in his body—except for the medical report that Lin Tao had seen through.

He was just a tasker; he should not leave any traces in any world. Yan Xinfeng was already a complete accident, like a special challenge set for him in the System Space.

His anger and resentment stemmed more from his inability to control himself.

There were two culprits behind it all. One had already been stabbed, its punishment complete. The other…

“I’m going to blast Wei Shu’s head into powder,” Wei Tingxia told System 0188.

In his mind, System 0188 flickered silently for two seconds in agreement.

…

When the mecha unit landed in the military district, Wei Tingxia spotted Lin Wensi waiting at first glance.

“He’s waiting for you,” Wei Tingxia said.

Yan Xinfeng only let out a vague “mm” from his throat, sounding casual but completely missing the deeper meaning.

Wei Tingxia explained, “Last time I came, he didn’t wait for me. This time, since you’re here, he waited for you.”

“It’s probably just because he had time,” Yan Xinfeng made an excuse. “Not because he values me more.”

Someone’s smug satisfaction was about to burst the mecha cockpit.

Wei Tingxia was too lazy to argue with him. He said directly, “No kissing me in the military district, and no hugging me.”

The smile on Yan Xinfeng’s face froze instantly. “Is this punishment? If so, what I said earlier was just casual. You’re more valuable than me. You’re the strongest mecha pilot in history, and your personal combat ability far surpasses 90%—even more—alphas…”

He tried to lighten the punishment with flattery, but Wei Tingxia remained unmoved.

“No kissing? I’ll kiss anyway. I’m an alpha, and you’re an alpha too. Do you want me on the Empire’s news?”

Fine, so even back in the military district, they had to keep it under wraps.

Yan Xinfeng leaned back in his seat. “I’m starting to get the feel of being a mistress now.”

Wei Tingxia chuckled and patted Yan Xinfeng’s broad shoulder twice, not too lightly, with a hint of playful encouragement.

“Keep it up.”

The mecha’s heavy hatch opened slowly amid the hiss of the hydraulic system. Wei Tingxia leaped down first with agile movements.

Almost the instant his feet touched the ground, Lin Wensi strode forward. His gaze landed on Wei Tingxia first, but his eyes involuntarily swept repeatedly toward the open hatch interior with intense scrutiny.

He tried to stay calm, but his tone betrayed excitement. “You really did it.”

Wei Tingxia shook his head. “Not entirely. Only half successful.”

Lin Wensi: “Which half?”

A tall, lithe figure appeared at the hatch.

Yan Xinfeng exited the cockpit. “My half.”

With that, he braced one hand on the cold metal doorframe, flipped down in the air with flashy agility, and his military boots landed precisely in the empty space between Wei Tingxia and Lin Wensi, as if drawing an invisible line.

He casually rolled his neck and directed his gaze toward Lin Wensi.

The gazes of the two top alphas met briefly in the air. Yan Xinfeng’s lips curved into a provocative arc as he spoke first, drawing out his words. “Long time no see, General Lin.”

Lin Wensi’s jaw tightened slightly, his eyes sharp as blades as he met Yan Xinfeng’s gaze. His tone was formally calm. “Long time no see. Mr. Yan, as impressive as ever.”

The words sounded fine on the surface, but upon closer inspection, they seemed to mock Yan Xinfeng for being too flashy, as if implying he was old.

“No, compared to you, I’m still too young,” Yan Xinfeng said with a grin. “Not happy to see me?”

He still remembered Lin Wensi mentioning wanting to see his omega, and he held a grudge over it. Bringing it up now was purely to pick a fight.

Wei Tingxia glanced warningly at Yan Xinfeng upon hearing this, signaling him to stop.

Lin Wensi, unaware of the context, took it as a question about his attitude. “A bit regretful. Mr. Yan, I truly hope to chat with your omega partner.”

“Oh?” Yan Xinfeng raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “Chat about what?”

Lin Wensi spoke frankly. “He has profound expertise in mecha. I hope the military can reach some level of cooperation with him.”

“Ah, no wonder then,” Yan Xinfeng drawled, pretending sudden realization. “No wonder. After all, the military’s standard mecha are indeed… well, to put it mildly, their performance parameters are not very satisfactory. No wonder General Lin is so eager.”

He showed no mercy to the military, ruthlessly targeting their weaknesses. Lin Wensi’s face darkened instantly.

The tense standoff was obvious.

At that moment, Wei Tingxia silently took a small step forward, skillfully positioning himself between the two alphas on the verge of erupting.

He did not look at Lin Wensi. His gaze fell on Yan Xinfeng, his voice calm but authoritative. “Yan Xinfeng, is this what you should say to General Lin?”

Of course not.

Yan Xinfeng opened his mouth but met Wei Tingxia’s gaze. The words stuck in his throat, rolled around twice, and came out changed.

“…No.”

He behaved.

Wei Tingxia continued, “Then what should you say?”

“…”

Yan Xinfeng looked at Lin Wensi, thoroughly aggrieved. “Sorry, what I said earlier was nonsense. You’re not that bad.”

Lin Wensi’s tense jaw did not relax, but watching this bizarre scene, a faint trace of scrutiny flashed deep in his eyes.

He had been stationed in the military district for decades and clashed with Yan Xinfeng more than ten times, so he knew this opponent’s temperament well. He was not an alpha who bent easily.

Yet the Second Highness had forced him to apologize…

Maintaining his composure, Lin Wensi nodded faintly, his voice betraying no emotion. “You’re too serious. I have some military affairs to handle. Can we discuss details later?”

Wei Tingxia nodded immediately. “Sure. I’ll settle him in first.”

He turned and signaled Yan Xinfeng with his eyes to follow, his movements crisp.

Yan Xinfeng, off to the side, pursed his lips and let out a barely audible huff from his nose, like someone who had just fought a frustrating battle.

With a mix of reluctance and briskness, he caught up to Wei Tingxia in a few strides.

Just as the two walked side by side, Lin Wensi, standing a bit farther away, noticed Yan Xinfeng naturally and habitually reach out, as if to drape an arm over Wei Tingxia’s shoulder.

Wei Tingxia’s back tensed imperceptibly for an instant. In the 0.1 second before Yan Xinfeng’s fingers touched his uniform fabric, his foot shifted slightly sideways—a fluid motion like merely adjusting direction—precisely dodging the hand.

The reaching hand hung empty in the air before withdrawing casually. Yan Xinfeng’s face resumed its nonchalant expression, as if nothing had happened.

It all occurred swiftly, like a dragonfly skimming water, but it did not escape Lin Wensi’s eyes.

The Second Highness seemed to have a closer relationship with this star pirate leader than appearances suggested.

Lin Wensi’s face remained impassive as he followed steadily, but his fingers unconsciously rubbed the edge of the data pad at his waist.