Chapter 60

Spilled water could still be gathered.

Seeing that Ludwig had finally stopped his terrifying movements, Shen Yu felt a wave of relief in his heart. He heavily exhaled a breath of hot air, and the hand gripping the female insect’s waist loosened. Without support, his body swayed, his head tilted back, and he collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion.

The already soaked bed sank deeply like waves under Shen Yu’s scattered silver long hair.

The overhead lights drifted down like feathers, landing on the naked, taut back muscles, the powerfully arched waist, and the legs kneeling on either side.

The feathers continued to fall onto the tense pale foot arches, the sleekly muscled calves, the cool-toned waist and abdomen where faint blue veins bulged like tree roots creeping from the shadows onto the abdominal muscles before vanishing into the thin oblique abs.

The skin above breathed like soft clouds, porcelain-smooth and delicate, seeping fine beads of sweat from the muscles beneath, glossy and coldly alluring.

Shen Yu breathed through his open mouth, his throat turned into a parched spring—whether exhaling or inhaling, it was all restlessness and heat.

Fortunately, he hadn’t cried out. Otherwise, given the intensity, his voice would have been ruined, reduced entirely to an organ for voicing desire.

Shen Yu closed his eyes briefly. His damp silver lashes drooped like frost about to melt, heavy with droplets. His butterfly-like shoulder blades pressed against the sodden sheets, the seeping sweat now chilled, bringing a familiar coolness.

007 hadn’t returned yet, still lingering in that warm wetness.

But now, it was so much better than before.

Shen Yu’s chest heaved as he escaped the scalp-numbing pleasure.

After calming the tides in his body, Shen Yu opened his eyes again. His pupils were somewhat unfocused, his gaze like pale moonlight scattering in night mist, still unable to capture clear images.

He struggled to speak: “Ludwig—”

Ludwig stood frozen like a soulless sculpture. The faint black insect patterns on his body began to fade, gradually revealing his original muscular contours. At this call, reason flooded back like the tide.

It started as faint ripples, then the waves crashed overwhelmingly into his brain.

His lightless pupils began to focus. The fog on their mirrored surface cleared, and the dim world before him sharpened into clarity.

Upon seeing everything clearly, Ludwig’s body stiffened.

Shen Yu’s waist and hip bones were firmly gripped in his scorching palms. The fine, resilient muscles there clung to him like magnets. Vivid red marks spread from beneath his palms up the waist, evidence of how harshly he had grabbed.

Ludwig’s gaze slowly shifted upward, meeting Shen Yu’s wet, cold eyes.

A faint curve touched Shen Yu’s lips: “Awake?”

Realizing what had happened, Ludwig released his grip on Shen Yu’s waist. His heart in his chest throbbed erratically, pounding at an abnormal rhythm.

Ludwig stared deeply at him, bent down, and slid his feverish arms under Shen Yu’s lean waist, tracing up his back. His burning palm pressed against Shen Yu’s slightly protruding shoulder blades, then tightened, hugging him fiercely.

As if he wanted to pull him into his bones, into his body.

Wet, hot, sticky.

Shen Yu’s body trembled. The genes hidden within him were fully unlocked by utter lust.

His brain waves seemed to detect a gentle mechanical voice from distant childhood, overlapping with another voice. They were hazy, yet undeniably real.

It was his male father, Sidorey’s voice.

The frail, disheveled male insect stood amid roaring flames like a tree on the verge of withering. He turned his head, gazing across vast distances and years at his child, his seed, his creation.

Loving, pitying, mad.

“Listening to your requests, conveying your commands.”

“Your most loyal cloud companion has ended its voyage.”

“I shall be with you.”

It faded.

Shen Yu’s heart emptied, yet he felt something more powerful taking root and sprouting within him. At his wrist, Lily pierced into his matured bones, transforming into something else—a seed.

They grew into his bones. New sprouts drilled out, their tender buds mischievously tickling the gaps in his bones.

Itchy, numb, sore—and the most sensitive spot was his shoulder blades. Now, with Ludwig rubbing them like this, he felt an indescribable…

An indescribable tingling numbness.

Shen Yu: “…”

Moreover, the female insect’s sudden bend pulled him deeper into the embrace, tightening around him. Shen Yu grunted softly, biting back the sound. He suspected Ludwig did it on purpose.

Shen Yu reached out and patted Ludwig’s back, his voice hoarse: “Get off.”

Ludwig’s palm enveloped his shoulder blades. His tongue licked the earlobe hidden under damp silver hair. Due to their close embrace, the ice-cold collar on his neck pressed against Shen Yu’s straight collarbone.

The leash dangled from the cold collar between them.

A scorching murmur vibrated from Ludwig’s throat: “Sadro, congratulations. You’ve officially come of age.”

When a male insect showed heat period symptoms, it marked maturity, approaching true adulthood. After that, whether the first union happened during heat or not, it signified his maturation.

Shen Yu froze. He lowered his thin eyelids, his emotions suddenly obscure. Was “adulthood” really a good word for him?

Moving out from the Sadro Main House had been his social adulthood. This moment was his biological one.

He quickly masked the strange feeling, snorting coldly through his nose: “Oh, so should I thank you?”

Hearing his voice, Ludwig felt like he was holding a breathing, wet, sticky swanskin blanket.

His sharp thin lips curved slightly. Then, remembering something, he blew a teasing puff of hot air into Shen Yu’s ear: “If it were during heat—”

Ludwig paused, his gaze darkening: “Sadro, would you be unable to hold back and cry out then?”

Though Shen Yu had little strength left, it didn’t stop him from striking with words. A mocking edge pierced his smile: “If I were in heat, could you even control yourself?”

“Is that so?” Ludwig was keenly perceptive, having already sensed Shen Yu’s sensitive spots from his reactions. As he countered, his palm ground heavily against the shoulder blades.

Feeling the tremor in his arms, Ludwig lowered his head, eyes dark, voice hoarse and low with terrifying thirst: “If you cried out, hearing your voice, Sadro—I’d wake from the swamp of desire again and again.”

“So you’d keep crying out until we climbed to the peaks over and over, finally collapsing in exhaustion—”

For the first time, Shen Yu felt the lethal power of words. He pressed his lips together. Even with his strong mind, he fell completely silent.

Make you exhausted? I’d probably be a corpse.

Though he wanted to end this absurd insect life with death, he didn’t want to go out so disgracefully. If his male father knew he died like this, he’d probably climb out of the grave, bash Andre first, then his corpse.

“…”

Shen Yu lifted his eyelids and said: “I want to go out and take a shower.”

Ludwig frowned slightly, understanding his meaning. His gaze drifted down to Shen Yu’s rising and falling pale waist and abdomen—beautiful, like snow-capped rivers. But there was something even more beautiful.

Shen Yu turned his head away, his profile sharp and icy. Seeing the vivid expression, Ludwig—who hadn’t wanted to before—now itched at his heart, wanting him to look.

So Ludwig reached out, firmly yet gently turning his head back: “You’re very beautiful.”

Shen Yu’s nose tip beaded with fine sweat from the stimulation. Already drained, he reacted again. His barely relieved throat dried up once more, scalp tingling.

No, no—

Shen Yu hurriedly extended his arm. Cool, sexy pale blue veins bulged on the back of his hand. His palm reached for the cabinet beside the table to steady himself, but in his panic, he knocked over the transparent fish-shaped glass bottle on it.

The unsteady bottle wobbled at the touch, tilted, and shattered on the tabletop.

A “pop” sounded in the air.

The glass broke, and the clear liquid inside splashed across the table.

Faint scents of ocean and flowers wafted through the luxurious air.

Shen Yu’s mind blanked for an instant. Under his long, curled lashes, his ice-blue pupils lost focus. If not for Ludwig holding him, he might have slammed back onto the bed.

He twitched his fingers, wanting to curse, but then that warm, languid feeling descended again. Familiar Heavenly Dao Power surged into his limbs, massaging every vein and nerve like a gentle rub, so comfortable he wanted to die.

The dual sensations hit one after another. Shen Yu’s gaze scattered, his brain swaying emptily.

After the ultimate satisfaction in every sense faded, Shen Yu felt his limbs go limp, entering a state of desireless tranquility. He became numb to external changes.

His thick lashes, wet with sweat, drooped. He no longer wanted to curse—just sleep.

The touch was supple, resilient skin. Ludwig watched him close his eyes and gently laid him back on the bed.

A faint hum sounded from the cabin ceiling. The cold panels folded open, and endless galaxies and stars flooded this soft space.

Small round vents appeared on all sides of the cabin walls. Colorless, odorless cleaning mist filled the space, making everything dry and pristine again.

Ludwig sat on the bed’s edge, reaching out to smooth Shen Yu’s disheveled hair.

He lowered his eyelids, his dark gaze falling on Shen Yu’s breathing lips. Exhausted, they were slightly pale with a pink tint, parting faintly. If he bent down, he could seal them, breathing his breath.

Much later, Ludwig leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Shen Yu’s forehead.

“Good night.”

Ludwig changed clothes and strode out of the bedroom.

The ship sailed through the cosmos. Ludwig passed the bridge and entered the command room.

Dense blue lights flickered. The deputy sat in the info pod, operating the large brain terminal. He finally breached the ironclad defenses of trillions of encryption layers, entering the core of the Imperial Terminal Main Brain.

Ludwig crossed his arms, expressionless, tapping his curled fingers against the cabin wall. “Found anything?”

The deputy frowned tightly and shook his head: “No records of any related anomalies at all. Neither in the Male Protection Association registries, major Military Department hospitals, nor the Sadro Main House pedigrees—everything shows normal.”

Ludwig’s face darkened. He sneered lowly: “That’s exactly what’s abnormal.”

“Yes.” The deputy rotated the brain terminal’s display: “So I hacked into the Imperial Terminal Main Brain’s core, but all data appears normal.”

Dense data crawled across the terminal. The cold blue glow reflected on the female insect’s sharply contoured face, accentuating its edge and chill.

Ludwig furrowed his brows, eyes fixed on the data. Information converged in his mind as he searched for anomalies.

Moments later, his gaze sharpened.

Ludwig bent down, finger pointing at the screen.

The deputy looked.

It was Andre’s info code, followed by a string of meaningless letters.

Others might not know what they meant, but Ludwig, once Imperial Marshal, had brushed that layer of dark shadows despite ignoring politics.

White Prison.

Linking it to the obviously burned notebook in Shen Yu’s bedroom and past events, a terrifying, chilling suspicion emerged from Ludwig’s constricting heart.

The unknowns remained vague, the truth shrouded in dark fog, waiting for someone to peel it away and plunge into irredeemable abyss.

Ludwig stood. Blue light blurred his expression. He closed his eyes briefly, voice cold: “Follow these two leads. Dig deeper.”

Ten days later, on the eve of war.

The Empire held a grand military parade on Imperial Capital Star. Under countless electronic eyes, it broadcast live via Star Net to every insect citizen.

Amid engine roars, thousands of military females unfurled massive insect wings. The dense wings overlapped through fireworks and cannons above, forming a sky-shrouding shadow.

Neatly trimmed bushes wound along the path. In the Slei Family’s vineyard, vines twisted around, bearing plump purple fruits. This was the Slei Family estate.

After attending the military parade, Demian pursed his lips and walked through the vineyard back to the villa, his mind filled with worry.

That day, after Fred underwent insect transformation and suffered a heavy blow, his already fragile spirit sea had worsened. With war imminent, Demian suppressed his fear and planned to distance himself deeply from Fred, but Fred refused.

Demian sighed and, in the end, only performed simple treatment as usual.

After sending Fred off at the parade, Demian grew even more uneasy.

Having witnessed the power of female insects firsthand, he now understood why most male insects in the insect race feared and loathed them. But as time passed and the emotional fear faded, rationality began to take over.

Demian pursed his lips, recalling the conversation he had overheard between Andre and Sadro that day.

Their dialogue was so shocking and involved their privacy that Demian’s feet rooted to the spot. He didn’t dare approach and instead retreated.

They were undoubtedly fierce female-haters, and Demian could now even understand the roots of their disgust.

But was it right for them to take pleasure in dissecting female insects?

A warm fire burned in the fireplace. The curly-haired male insect with refined features sat on the sofa.

Demian bent at the waist, his hands clasped together.

His lips pressed tight, the firelight from the hearth illuminated his deeply uneasy face, alternating shadows making the entire insect seem even more restless.

The Imperial Parliament started work every morning at nine and ended promptly at five in the afternoon. When Senator Lucius, Demian’s female father, removed his long coat and returned to the villa, he quickly noticed his male offspring’s unease.

Lucius walked over, placed a hand on his fluffy head, and asked mildly, “What’s wrong?”

Demian opened his mouth, his voice dry as he asked, “Female Father, what is justice?”

Lucius saw through his troubles, patted his head, and thought his male offspring was always worrying over such impractical matters—it was truly adorable. He patiently explained, “There’s no such thing as true justice. Just follow your own heart.”

Because you’re a male insect, no matter what you do, we’ll always have your back.

Hearing this, Demian seemed to regain his strength.

He lowered his lashes, suddenly exhaled heavily, and his lips moved slightly. “That day, at the engagement ceremony, I overheard Sadro and Andre saying some very strange things—like they were about to do something very dangerous—”

Lucius’s brows furrowed at once.

Having worked in Parliament for many years, he strongly opposed male insects entering politics. Male insects were frail and the foundation of reproduction; they should be protected under solid wings, just like Demian.

Thus, Lucius naturally clashed with Andre, that maverick male insect, on political views.

And when the names Sadro and Andre came up together again, combined with Demian’s current expression, certain long-buried memories faintly resurfaced.

Who in politics lacked a keen sense of smell? Lucius was like a cat smelling fish; he quickly latched onto some hidden information.

The tall female insect squatted down, placed both hands on Demian’s soft knees, softened his voice, and met Demian’s eyes on equal footing, gazing deeply.

Lucius softened his voice and asked quietly, “What did they say?”

Demian met those mild yet firm eyes.

These were the first eyes he had seen upon arriving in this world. He had a natural trust in them, as if no matter what he did wrong, this female insect would stand behind him and back him up.

Under the guidance of those eyes, Demian unwittingly opened his mouth and spilled everything.

…

When he heard the words “adulthood” and “key,” Lucius’s breath hitched.

After listening to Demian’s account, the senator’s heart pounded wildly. He abruptly stood up from the ground.

The familiar forest breeze of Virasen Avenue, mixed with the fragrant aroma of vine flower wine, wafted into his nostrils.

Shen Yu wrinkled his nose and woke from his sleep.

He lifted his lashes. In his hazy vision, he saw a long-stemmed flower on the windowsill being picked up by fingers.

Ludwig deftly took the flower stem, secured the screen, and the sunlight flooding into the room grew even clearer.

This female insect had made himself right at home, kicking out Number Two once again and taking over the entire estate’s work.

Perhaps because he had resumed his role as Red Blood Boss, he no longer stayed at the estate day and night like before. He generally left at night and appeared promptly the next morning to wake Shen Yu from sleep.

Shen Yu draped a robe over his pajamas and slowly got out of bed to wash up.

After eating the breakfast Ludwig prepared, with the day free, Shen Yu touched his temple, lowered his lashes, and slowly walked to the courtyard.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the vinewood trees, falling into the lush green courtyard and forming scattered light spots. The fast-growing bulb plants he had planted grew wildly in the courtyard, swaying in the penetrating sunlight.

A gentle breeze stirred, everything immersed in tranquility and beauty, romantic and leisurely.

Shen Yu lounged lazily on the recliner, listening to the rustling of wind and flowers, his heart calming along with it.

But something felt off.

He lifted his lashes, swept his gaze across the courtyard once, then again, and finally fixed it under that courtyard tree.

Nothing was under the tree. The shadows from the branches swayed and swept across the grass, making a rustling sound.

Shen Yu finally realized what was wrong. The black dog he had brought back had disappeared at some point.

Shen Yu: “…”

007 watched his host lying low like this for ten days straight and couldn’t help asking: 【Host, are we going for the ‘feelings develop over time’ route now?】

Shen Yu: 【Not a chance.】

Ludwig finished brewing roasted milk. Not seeing the male insect in the living room, he searched and found him in the courtyard. He carried the brown clay pot over, bent down to place it on the small table beside the recliner, and made a light clinking sound.

Shen Yu lifted his eyes to glance at him and reached for the clay pot.

Ludwig stood before him, his dark gaze fixed on his lips, desire stirring.

The day after waking up on the starship, Shen Yu had felt like his whole body was falling apart and deeply realized abstinence was a major life priority. Thus, he decided to refuse any cuddling for a while, forcing Ludwig to abstain as well.

So, for a full ten days—ten whole days—they hadn’t had a single step further in intimacy.

Not even a kiss was allowed. Ludwig regretted it immensely. If he had known this would happen, that day on the starship when Shen Yu passed out, he wouldn’t have kept it chaste by only kissing his forehead.

Ludwig’s throat bobbed. “Has your heat period still not come?”

Shen Yu’s hand shook on the pot, and the liquid inside sloshed like rippling water, spilling entirely onto his thin white pajamas.

The white liquid flowed like streams down the snowy fabric of his pajamas, first leaving winding white streaks, then quickly soaking into the material.

The fabric over his chest soon went from dry to wet, the warm, milky substance pressing against his skin through the cloth, sticky and obvious.

Shen Yu set down the clay pot and patted his chest with a frown.

The air filled with the faintly sweet, milky scent of roasted milk.

A heavy shadow suddenly loomed over him.

Ludwig stared fixedly at him, tongue pressing against his teeth. He said, “I want roasted milk too.”

Shen Yu glanced at him. “Drink it yourself.”

Ludwig leaned closer, his gaze falling on the rising and falling chest, his suppressed, scorching breath falling hotly:

“What if I want that cup from earlier?”