Chapter 64: – With the Ceremonial Rites of an Imperial Consort

“You… you…” Benny looked at the snake quietly coiled in the feeding box. So long a creature, yet instead of roaming this boundless simulated rainforest, it was willingly crammed inside that box.

Furthermore, of everyone present, only Ming Ruan did not know who this snake truly was.

God of the Universe above!

The only one still active in the current Royal Family was the Third Prince. If speaking in terms of titular honor, the King remained the highest-ranking figure in the Alpha Galaxy.

Benny stared blankly at the snake, its head leisurely resting on its body, then at Ming Ruan beside it, who was practically glued to the transparent feeding box—which, rounded up, meant he was practically glued to the snake.

“This is…?” he inquired cautiously.

Ming Ruan scratched his head sheepishly. “It probably noticed I was a little scared, so it went inside on its own.”

Hearing this, Benny dismissed the possibility that the Third Prince had been coerced. Instead, he felt deeply shaken.

The King of the Alpha Galaxy had willingly crawled into a box to be toyed with by this youth before him.

Benny shut his mouth. He respectfully picked up the fallen items, bowed, and retreated with quick steps.

Once outside the barrier, he jogged all the way to the front courtyard and ordered that the accommodations and supplies originally prepared for Ming Ruan be completely changed out.

Faced with the attendants’ confusion, Benny said gravely: “…Re-arrange everything. With the ceremonial rites of an Imperial Consort.”

Of all this, everyone still inside the simulated rainforest remained utterly unaware.

Ming Ruan had stayed in the rainforest for a long time. There was almost no change in light inside it. He only realized it was noon when researchers filed in, each holding an exquisite large tray.

Benny followed behind the researchers, inviting Ming Ruan and Su Yuyun to dine.

Ming Ruan couldn’t tear his eyes away. Ming Ruan was deeply reluctant to leave. “Just five more minutes.”

Su Yuyun, already at the door, halted his steps, turned back, and returned to Ming Ruan’s side.

Benny retreated two steps. Only when he had put some distance between himself and Su Yuyun did he manage to draw a couple of breaths.

This simulated environment had been repeatedly recalibrated by the researchers based on Lochus’s physical data. The Therianthropy had not yet lasted a full day. For safety’s sake, the meal would also be handled here.

All kinds of dishes were brought forth and held beside the feeding box. People bowed, lowered their heads, and humbly proffered the plates, allowing the snake to slowly glide out of the feeding box and choose at its leisure.

Every single item, every single dainty, bite-sized piece, was the collaborative, refined creation of the Beastman Research Institute, the Third Prince’s private chef team, and the Royal Supplier.

Lochus passed over the vast majority without a glance, only tasting a few of the rest.

Suddenly, the snake stopped before one plate.

Because they were uncertain of the Third Prince’s palate after transformation, the researchers had brought out various types of beast meats. The shapes covered everything: chunks, strips, slices, thick cuts, thin cuts… all complete.

And on this particular plate lay a small flower constructed from thin slices of meat. The ‘petals,’ wafer-thin as cicada wings, were crystal clear and lustrous.

The snake held this flower in its mouth, changed direction, and slithered toward Ming Ruan, who stood watching at the side.

The snake, cloaked in emerald jade, glided across the dark, soft mud. In the dim environment, it alone shimmered as if bathed in a soft glow.

Ming Ruan hadn’t managed to run when the snake first started moving. Now it was too late to flee. He could only stand rooted, as if mesmerized, watching it approach him.

…Was this how Medusa lured people into looking at her?

Ming Ruan thought, dazed.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone present, the snake slithered up to Ming Ruan, raised its upper body, the crystalline flower held in its mouth.

Ming Ruan just thought this was an amazing surprise snake. The feelings of those in the know, however, were far more complicated.

The Third Prince, showing such undisguised goodwill.

Was he scheming again?

But what if it was a genuine overture? After all, this was Ming Ruan, the dream lover of countless beastmen. Even the Third Prince might not be immune.

Regardless, the scene before them was rich with narrative and artistic beauty. Everyone present felt inexplicably tense. They stared unblinkingly, clenching their jaws, afraid of accidentally screaming out.

What did it mean when a snake shared its food?

Ming Ruan leaned down slightly, reaching out his hand to accept it.

But at that moment, the dreamlike scene froze.

Ming Ruan’s outstretched hand was caught by another person’s.

Su Yuyun grasped Ming Ruan’s wrist and pulled the young man upright. Holding Ming Ruan’s wrist with three fingers, not letting go, he used the remaining two to hook the black glove off his own other hand.

He lowered his eyes. In front of everyone, holding Ming Ruan’s hand, he unhurriedly and meticulously sheathed each of Ming Ruan’s fingers into his own black glove.

The glove, which on Su Yuyun’s hand fit slightly snugly, even showing the lines of his knuckles, was loose and baggy on Ming Ruan’s hand.

Only after it was somewhat securely on did Su Yuyun release his grip.

Throughout the entire process, he did not say a single word, nor offered any explanation.

The scene was silent.

But everyone felt they had just stumbled upon a world-shaking piece of gossip.

This—was this something they were allowed to know!

In the end, Ming Ruan, wearing the glove, accepted the ‘flower’ held in Lochus’s mouth.

Before the flower was taken away to be stored somewhere, Su Yuyun’s glove remained on Ming Ruan’s hand.

The lingering warmth in the glove intertwined, no longer distinguishable as belonging to one or the other.

All that day, Su Yuyun never explained why he had done such a thing. Nor did he speak. He simply followed Ming Ruan in silence.

It wasn’t until the two were about to part and head to their respective rooms that Ming Ruan heard Su Yuyun ask: “As long as it’s an animal, you’ll like it?”

“Yes… right?” Ming Ruan answered.

Su Yuyun nodded. He pressed down the brim of his cap and turned away.

The next day, Ming Ruan didn’t see Su Yuyun. But his boss’s status didn’t seem simple; coming to the Imperial Palace was probably for his own business.

Ming Ruan didn’t go looking. Instead, he returned to that simulated rainforest where the snake was staying.

When the researchers once again brought lunch in, just like yesterday, Ming Ruan mustered his courage and leaned over: “Can I feed it?”

The lead researcher instinctively glanced back at the barrier. Seeing no sign of Su Yuyun, he hesitated, considering.

Mr. Ming Ruan had seemed very afraid yesterday. And this was, after all, His Highness the Third Prince…

The researcher looked toward Lochus.

The moment it heard Ming Ruan make such a request, the snake, which had already slithered halfway out to eat, retracted its entire body back into the feeding box. Though its eyes were the cold, emotionless vertical pupils of a reptile, they looked to hold two parts expectation and invitation.

The researcher: “…”

“Fine,” the researcher managed with difficulty. “Please wait a moment.”

He quickly returned with a long, thin feeding tongs, exquisitely made. He also manipulated something on the feeding box, creating a window like a set of shutters. Ming Ruan could reach the tongs through the slats to offer the meat, and the snake couldn’t get out—in theory.

The materials of the convalescent box placed in the rainforest were the same as those used in military aircars. It was inherently modifiable and fully functional. Originally, it had been prepared for when the Third Prince’s beast form stabilized enough for outings; they just hadn’t expected it to be needed so soon.

The researcher leaned close to Ming Ruan and murmured instructions. “These, and these—if this… individual isn’t willing to eat them, please don’t force him. Those few plates over there, it’s best if you can get him to finish them.”

Ming Ruan listened intently, nodding from time to time.

Seeing that everything was explained, Lochus flicked his tongue at the group of researchers.

“Yes. We will take our leave then,” the researcher said. After a worried word to Ming Ruan, he left the simulated rainforest, heavy-hearted, and immediately dashed to the monitoring room.

It wasn’t that they doubted Ming Ruan’s abilities. It was just that this Third Prince was capricious and unfathomable.

He seemed easygoing on the surface, but no one could truly guess what he was thinking.

The Third Prince had been born late. When he was born, his eldest brother was already learning at their father the Emperor’s side. His second sister had also possessed royal bearing from a young age. No one paid Lochus any mind.

But later, during the Alpha Galaxy’s period of turmoil, the Emperor and Empress had been severely wounded and placed in stasis. The First Prince had been assassinated at the dawn of the Beastmen Era. The sole Imperial Princess had also been married off to a far Outer Galaxy a few years prior. The great Royal Family, for a time, was left with only this rarely noticed Third Prince. Back then, people couldn’t even recall who his birth mother was, or whether she was still alive.

The people of the Alpha Galaxy believed Lochus could never possibly support the Royal Family. The monarchy, they feared, was destined to vanish into history.

Yet, Lochus had shouldered this vast Royal House and led it to the present day.

People had no choice but to regard him differently. They also had no choice but to begin suspecting that everything that had happened in the past had been Lochus’s machinations to seize the throne.

Once they latched onto this suspicion, they easily found countless cases of ‘people who had offended Lochus meeting miserable ends,’ thus validating their theories.

From then on, no one dared claim they could see through Lochus. No one dared provoke him. And no one dared question any of his decisions again.

Anyway, if Ming Ruan offended the Third Prince over a meal and was punished, it would be far too great a pity!

The researchers watched the monitor feed, dejected and grim.

They saw on the screen that the youth tentatively picked up a dark red cube of meat with the tongs and inserted it through the shutter window. His operation was awkward; the clean piece of meat even brushed against the window slats.

The researchers’ hearts leaped into their throats.

Even though the feeding box had full-surface sterilization capabilities—

The snake opened its mouth and swallowed it in one bite.

Researcher: ?

The researchers wiped their sweat. His Highness Lochus truly was an unfathomable prince.

Immediately after, they saw Ming Ruan pick up a pale pink, thin-sliced piece of meat, roll it up, and push it inside, smiling as he said something.

Wait—but the prince genuinely disliked this type of meat. He hadn’t touched a single bite of it in all three meals yesterday—

The snake opened its mouth and swallowed it, solidly another bite.

Researcher: …?

What followed, everyone watched as Ming Ruan fed bite after bite, and the snake ate bite after bite, until every plate in front of them was emptied, nothing left.

The monitoring room fell into a long, long silence.

It turned out that even more stable than His Highness Lochus’s unpredictability was Ming Ruan’s performance.

You could always trust Ming Ruan.

—

“Good job! Swallowed it all!”

“This piece is huge, can you gulp it down!”

“Baby, you look like an umbrella, hahaha!”

Inside the simulated rainforest, Ming Ruan laughed and chattered away with the snake. The tongs clacked in the empty plate.

A crisp clang rang out. Ming Ruan looked back and realized all that meat had been completely finished.

“All gone!” Ming Ruan stood up and stretched. He pressed a finger against the feeding box. The snake lifted the tip of its tail and touched the box, meeting Ming Ruan’s finger through the transparent wall.

Ming Ruan: “Yay! Snakey is so good!”

Now, as long as he knew the snake couldn’t get out, Ming Ruan wasn’t afraid. Feeding little animals was truly so fun and healing!

It was just a bit strange. Weren’t the researchers saying this snake was picky and didn’t like eating? Ming Ruan looked at the stack of empty plates and couldn’t quite figure it out.

After feeding the snake, Ming Ruan hurried off to quickly eat his own meal, then rushed right back. Now, his first priority was staying with the snake; everything else had to be put on the back burner.

This pattern repeated over a few mealtimes. Everyone could see that Ming Ruan had gradually let down his guard toward the snake in the feeding box. He seemed convinced it couldn’t get out by itself.

So much so that one afternoon, while sprawled against the feeding box, chattering away, Ming Ruan’s head began to nod and droop. He ultimately couldn’t resist the drowsiness and slipped into dreamland.

In his deep, sweet dream, something seemed to be dragging his legs. Something cold slithered up his calf, his thigh, all the way coiling around his waist and abdomen… In the dream, Ming Ruan found it hard to breathe and felt unbearably heavy.

He shifted uncomfortably. The heavy thing seemed to sense it, moving to his shoulders, his nape, slowly sliding and rubbing past.

Though a bit heavy, it was so cool and comfortable.

Ming Ruan’s face already felt flushed from the rainforest’s heat. Sensing this patch of coolness, he instinctively reached out to wrap his arms around it and pressed his cheek against it.

Thus, he slept a very, very good sleep.

Until he woke from the dream.

Ming Ruan groggily opened his eyes. He felt as if his body was bound, pressed down by a thousand-jin boulder. His limbs couldn’t move at all.

With difficulty, he opened his eyes. Before him was a swathe of emerald green.