Huo Jing pressed some button, and the intact sliding track extended. The mechanical arm cleared the way, allowing the landship from the bottom hold to glide along the launch track out of the warehouse and onto the ground outside.
It was Xie Jianxun’s first time standing on the soil of another planet. The sensation under his feet was soft, carrying an indescribable wonder.
He took a deep breath, then suddenly remembered, “Don’t we need to check the air quality?”
Huo Jing raised an eyebrow and pointed to the row of air quality detectors embedded next to the cabin door.
Unexpectedly, the landship wouldn’t start properly.
Likely due to the chaotic interstellar jump earlier, combined with damage from the side explosion, some circuits were fried, leaving the control panel exposed. Fortunately, Huo Jing was very familiar with its structure.
He estimated it would take about two hours to fix.
The landship came equipped with a basic toolbox. The man grabbed it and slid down the landship’s hull like it was a slide, then pried open the damaged control panel on the side.
He selected a few useful tools, and a faint shadow fell beside him.
Without looking back, he knew Xie Jianxun had squatted down next to him.
Ignoring it, he calmly tinkered away until the landship’s self-diagnostic system announced that repairs were eighty percent complete.
Huo Jing simply stepped aside, letting Xie Jianxun take a closer look.
Xie Jianxun was studying it intently when a tool knife was suddenly placed in his hand, weighing it down.
“Can you understand it?” Huo Jing asked.
Though phrased as a question, his tone was as certain as a statement.
Xie Jianxun hesitated and nodded, then heard Huo Jing say, “Follow my lead.”
The man raised his arm and connected a broken wire. At some point, his colorful patched jacket had been removed and tied around his waist. His sleeveless black bodysuit revealed sturdy upper arms, with muscles that were sleek and hard-lined.
In just a few moves, he finished one.
Afterward, he gestured for Xie Jianxun to try it himself. “Did you get the steps?”
Xie Jianxun nodded and pulled over a severed wire, mimicking his motions.
His wrists were slender, the backs of his hands so pale they seemed to glow. With one glance, Huo Jing could guess that Xie Jianxun didn’t have much muscle on him—his arms were probably just soft flesh… Might feel nice.
Once he confirmed Xie Jianxun had learned it, the man stood up indifferently and headed into the ship.
Xie Jianxun looked back in surprise, setting down the tool knife. “Huo Jing?”
His voice was soft, naturally so, like a little hook that made one’s heart itch when he called out. “Are you going back?”
The man replied casually, “You keep going. I have something left to handle.”
Footsteps of star pirates echoed chaotically from the upper decks of the ship—perhaps something had happened to the star pirate leader, leaving them leaderless.
Huo Jing slowly untied the jacket from his waist, shrugged it on, zipped it up, and his young man’s silhouette vanished into the darkness as he lightly leaped onto the elevator.
At dusk, Xie Jianxun sat bored by the warehouse side, fiddling with things from the toolbox.
He heard footsteps and turned his head to see Huo Jing descending slowly from the electric elevator.
He tossed something onto Xie Jianxun’s lap. Xie Jianxun fumbled to catch it and realized it was the light brain that the star pirates had taken earlier—the wristband still stained with blood.
“Keep your own stuff safe.”
He glanced at the landship. “Fixed?”
He had probably gone to kill someone, Xie Jianxun keenly noted from the faint bloody scent on him.
It was subtle, but distinctly different from before.
The man’s features remained handsome and profound, his expression free of any gloom—as if killing was an everyday chore, not worth a second thought.
He stepped closer, looking down at Xie Jianxun.
Xie Jianxun’s breath hitched as he tilted his face up—only relaxing slightly when the killing intent devoid of actual intent on him nearly faded. Who knew if this guy, lost in a killing frenzy, might subconsciously consider offing him too.
Fortunately, some rationality remained.
Xie Jianxun said, “The cabin door’s busted and won’t open—you have to climb in from the top. Everything else is fixed… Huo Jing? Aren’t you going to check? I’m a newbie, after all.”
Huo Jing withdrew his gaze, stepped onto the landship’s hull, and leaped into the cabin.
A perfunctory voice came from inside. “I trust you.”
How could you be a newbie, young master? He’d never seen anyone else who could learn it after one look.
The desert heat rolled in waves. The young man felt restless and unhappily shrugged off his jacket again, stuffing it into the seatback pocket. Once Xie Jianxun was in the cabin, he planned to head out and find a human settlement.
He kept one foot on the brake and the other on the engine, waiting a long time, but Xie Jianxun didn’t come.
He lowered his eyes; traces of star pirate blood still lingered between his fingers.
That sticky smell lingered persistently.
Perhaps Xie Jianxun had smelled the blood and started suspecting him.
Was that it?
After all, what innocent traveler could counter-kill star pirates?
No matter—he’d already gotten the energy stone for this ship. Big profit, no loss.
Until he heard that familiar voice.
“…Huo Jing?”
That voice again.
Huo Jing recalled the story he’d told about his butler issuing a marriage proposal invitation.
“Huo Jing!”
Xie Jianxun stood below, staring up at the landship’s railing taller than him, then at the impossibly smooth hull. His scalp tingled.
He tried climbing with hands and feet but failed after a few attempts, feeling suffocated.
“I… I can’t climb up…” His voice grew smaller as he deeply felt how useless he was.
He considered himself someone who exercised regularly.
Though his butler wouldn’t easily let him leave the estate, there was a high-end gym right below his bedroom. He’d often run or work out.
But free-climbing was definitely not in his repertoire!
Heaven knew how he felt watching Huo Jing grab the top of the railing with one hand, leap up effortlessly, and land inside the landship.
…Superman!
Silence filled the landship for a moment. Huo Jing stood up heavily and peered over the railing at him. Xie Jianxun had tilted his small face up, gazing at him expectantly.
“Huo Jing, can you help me…?”
Before he finished, the man bent down, even his brows drooping.
Huo Jing said, “Give me your hand.”
Xie Jianxun obediently raised his hand. The man simply gripped his wrist, yanked him upward with force, then clamped his armpit, hauling him up like pulling a radish.
Xie Jianxun’s foot landed inside the landship as he hissed in pain.
Huo Jing’s strength was immense—his grip like a vise, especially during that yank from the ground.
Even without looking, he knew the skin on both sides would bruise.
The landship roared to life. Huo Jing settled back into the driver’s seat, his voice muffled amid the engine friction, heat waves, and sand.
“I’ve found a city marker on the ship’s radar map. I know the general direction.”
As Huo Jing spoke steadily, he quietly glanced at the passenger seat.
There, the young master fumbled to adjust his position, then fussed with the worn safety belt from the hull wall.
“Sit tight.”
With a roar, the landship surged forward a long distance, quickly leaving the star pirate ship behind in an instant. It chased the sinking sunset glow, carving two long, winding trails in the sand.
The star pirate ship shrank in the rearview mirror until it vanished.
Xie Jianxun withdrew his gaze and, amid Huo Jing’s knowing hesitation, asked the question. “Did you… go kill someone?”
Huo Jing replied flatly, “Yeah. What, gonna call the cops?”
Xie Jianxun denied instinctively, “No, no. Did you… kill them all?”
The young man in the driver’s seat scoffed and floored the accelerator, maxing out the RPM as the landship sped away.
“Left some—” His voice stretched in the wind but remained clear. “What, young master getting soft? Those were star pirates—”
Xie Jianxun yelled back, “Then what are you—”
With a screech, Huo Jing slammed the brake. Caught off guard, Xie Jianxun’s head smacked into the windshield.
“Ow…” Xie Jianxun complained.
Huo Jing merely glanced sideways at him, expression somewhat cold.
“Asking about my identity means you’re joining us.”
The man’s voice was calm as he spoke, though his gaze on Xie Jianxun suggested otherwise. “Young master, have you thought it through?”
A faint red mark bloomed on Xie Jianxun’s snowy forehead. He winced and rubbed it.
But his memory was sharp. “I remember you said before that you’re a good person.”
“Ah, when I was in the main city, I was indeed a good guy—law-abiding, normal activities.”
Night fell, darkening Huo Jing’s expression too. “But maybe not after that. Wanna guess?”
His tone turned indifferent again.
Xie Jianxun said resolutely, “No guess.”
Huo Jing glanced at him and smiled anew. “Why?”
Xie Jianxun answered honestly, “I can’t beat you.”
“…Ha. Smart kid.”
Huo Jing hit the accelerator, and the landship rolled forward again—this time toward a nearby hillside.
Before leaving the star pirate ship, Huo Jing had scavenged some rations. Now, with the landship parked on the hillside’s sheltered side, they got out, sat on dry rocks, and ate while resting.
After about an hour of driving, they spotted traces of a camp. A bit farther, the edge of an oasis emerged, with tiny black dots moving in the distance—clearly human activity.
Inside the landship, Xie Jianxun dozed off.
The ride had been mostly straight-line, and Huo Jing didn’t brake randomly, so it was smooth.
Smooth enough that Xie Jianxun’s eyelids drooped uncontrollably. Even sitting next to this suspicious guy he’d only known a few days—who’d killed right under his nose—he still nodded off.
His head rested on the small headrest, which wasn’t comfy, so his brows furrowed, squishing the soft flesh on his cheek. He looked a bit pitiful and cute.
Huo Jing withdrew his gaze and tapped the brake.
The landship slowed, and Xie Jianxun stirred awake a little.
Dazedly lifting his eyes, he saw the oasis. “People there—should we check it out?”
“No.”
The landship came to a slow, silent stop. Huo Jing gazed at the nearby oasis and grabbed his jacket. “Some sand bandits ambush at oases, waiting for people to walk into traps.”
Xie Jianxun tensed too, gripping the landship’s railing tightly.
He said steadily, “What should I do?”
Huo Jing replied, “Nothing, young master. Don’t hold me back—just stay put obediently.”
Xie Jianxun heard a click, like a part locking into place, as Huo Jing silently drew something from his waist. He guessed it was a weapon.
Huo Jing didn’t look at him, eyes fixed ahead. “I’ll be back soon.”
It was indeed a band of sand bandits active in the wilds. Huo Jing took some effort to deal with them. After a quick inventory of the oasis supplies, an unexpected sandstorm rolled in from the horizon.
Not huge, but fast—like it would swallow everything. Huo Jing hesitated, pocketed a chocolate protein bar left by the sand bandits, then bound himself to the oasis plants, covered his mouth and nose, and hid behind a sturdy rock.
That rich young master would probably like sweet things.
But when the sandstorm passed and he returned across the flattened sand to their spot, the landship and Xie Jianxun were gone.
“Xie Jianxun?”
As if someone had twisted the key he hadn’t taken and stolen their only ride.
The wind had scoured the ground smooth—no tracks left.
Huo Jing scanned around, his expression gradually chilling.
“Xie Jianxun.” He chewed the name, unhesitatingly drew his gun from his waist, and fired several shots into the sand.
Bang bang—the sand pitted with craters.
“…Don’t let me find you.”
