Something was coiling around him.
It was the snake.
Ming Ruan maintained his posture. There was no tension, no heart-stopping terror.
His heart simply stopped beating.
This was beyond the limits of his reaction. His mind replayed every memory he had, but he could find no experience to handle this crisis.
Ming Ruan remained still, but the snake moved.
The emerald green before him began to slither, and Ming Ruan could feel the friction and sliding against his limbs.
Right in front of Ming Ruan, the snake slowly retreated back into its terrarium.
He wasn’t dead.
He wasn’t dead.
Ming Ruan stayed frozen, his eyes tracking the snake, staring intently at it.
Once 99% of its body had slipped into the terrarium, the snake did not close the door by itself as it usually did.
Lochus knew that if it did, nothing would change from before. Ming Ruan would still watch him through the glass but wouldn’t get any closer.
So, after coiling itself up, the snake turned back. Its round, amber eyes looked at Ming Ruan. The thin tip of its tail looped once around Ming Ruan’s wrist, and the tail tip gently tickled the center of his palm.
Ming Ruan stared back at the snake. He didn’t know how much time passed before he suddenly gasped for air.
It was as if he learned to breathe again, to feel his heartbeat once more, to hear the sounds of the rainforest, to smell the scent of the earth.
He was still alive.
A snake had wrapped around him in his sleep, but it hadn’t attacked him, nor did it seem to want to swallow him.
In an instant, Ming Ruan felt a courage that transcended life and death. The fact that the snake had approached him so closely without his knowledge and caused him no harm actually fostered a strange sense of trust in it.
Ming Ruan slowly turned over the hand caught by the snake’s tail. While looking into the snake’s eyes, his fingertip gently touched its scales.
The snake made no objection.
The snake rested its head on its own body.
The contact went from a fingertip on a small patch of scale to one finger, then several fingers, half his palm, his full palm… and then he slowly stroked the snake’s body.
It felt exactly as good as he’d imagined—smooth and cool. Like its color, the snake’s texture was very similar to jade.
Ming Ruan lightly pinched the tip of the snake’s tail. “Bad snake.” Then he continued petting it. He made no move to close the terrarium door again.
This was exactly what Lochus wanted.
From that day on, the relationship between Ming Ruan and the snake progressed by leaps and bounds. The transparent terrarium had been thrown away somewhere unknown and never reappeared.
It was like someone who loved playing in water but couldn’t swim, who, once they learned, would stay in the pool all day. After Ming Ruan dared to touch the snake, the snake became his most beloved treasure. Every day, the first thing he did upon waking was to check on the snake before washing up. At lunch, he fed the snake before feeding himself. No matter what he was doing, one hand always had to be on the snake. They were like magnets, constantly stuck together.
Wherever the snake wanted to go, Ming Ruan followed. Whatever the snake needed, Ming Ruan immediately dropped everything to provide.
Everyone observed all of this.
Whether they were researchers or palace attendants like Benny, they all subconsciously felt that this level of doting was excessive.
Of course, of course, this was indeed the proper attitude one should have when interacting with Prince Lochus.
But still, Ming Ruan just seemed too… affectionate.
Everyone was a little worried.
Since the snake was allowed to leave the rainforest, Ming Ruan had been wandering the Imperial Palace with it. The palace complex consisted of one Main Hall, one Sub Hall, three other palaces, and some smaller buildings. Each palace had a different design, unique yet blending perfectly together. Combined with the snake by his side, Ming Ruan could roam completely unhindered. Just the Imperial Palace alone fully satisfied his need to “visit tourist spots during a vacation.”
Another day after a meal, one man and one snake strolled until they arrived at the base of a palace. Usually, they would just admire the architecture from the outside before leaving. This time, however, the snake hooked Ming Ruan’s hand with its tail and pulled him toward the palace doors.
At the entrance, the pair encountered Benny, who had come to supervise the operation of the palace’s central intelligent hub system. Ming Ruan had been hesitating, but Benny respectfully invited him inside, telling him not to stand on ceremony.
The snake was already slithering rapidly inside, so Ming Ruan had no choice but to follow.
“Is this your master’s palace?” Ming Ruan asked, seeing how familiar the snake seemed with the place.
The snake naturally couldn’t answer him.
It merely led Ming Ruan around the most noteworthy spots in the palace before sliding directly toward the throne placed on the ground floor of the main hall.
The snake climbed onto the throne.
It draped most of its body over the seat, rested its upper half on the backrest, and let its tail dangle casually over the edge, swaying gently.
Ming Ruan pulled out his Light Brain, snapped a couple of photos, and then approached.
He originally just wanted to stand beside it, but as soon as he neared the throne, a force suddenly pulled at his waist. The next thing he knew, Ming Ruan had stumbled and fallen onto the throne.
Wait, is this something you can just sit on?!
Ming Ruan immediately tried to spring up, but the force at his waist pulled again, making him sit back down.
Looking down, the snake was wrapped around him and the throne like a seatbelt.
Ming Ruan grasped the snake’s head with both hands. “Good baby, let go!”
The snake slipped out of Ming Ruan’s palm, circled around the back of the throne, and returned to face him from the other side, dropping something onto his head.
The snake leaned out a little and looked back. A tender green, teardrop-shaped gem rested against the young man’s forehead, its silver chain naturally draping over his hair. It fit so perfectly, as if it had been made just for him.
“Where did this come from?” Ming Ruan carefully removed the item and held it in his palms.
He was studying it so intently that the snake couldn’t help but move closer. As its tongue flickered in and out, it brushed past the side of Ming Ruan’s face near the corner of his lips.
Alerted, Ming Ruan pushed the snake’s head a little farther away. “Are you venomous?”
The snake innocently flicked its tongue again.
The afternoon sun streamed through the high stained-glass windows, casting colorful shadows around the throne. The youth, holding the gem in his hands, looked perfectly at ease, as if unaware that he was entwined by a snake.
Like prey caught in a spider’s web, completely oblivious.
Ming Ruan was only held down for a short while. When the colorful shadows from the stained glass shifted away, he rose again, and this time, the snake did not stop him.
He walked with the snake back to the palace gates and handed the forehead ornament to Benny, who was already waiting there.
Ming Ruan said, “Could you help me put this back in its place? Sorry for the trouble.”
Benny had been summoned by Ming Ruan’s communicator. Taking the ornament—a symbol of royal family membership—from the young man’s hands, sweat immediately beaded on his forehead and back.
He couldn’t help but steal a glance at the snake standing beside Ming Ruan.
Had he just ruined the Third Prince’s plan?
Ming Ruan continued to confess honestly: “I sat on that… that seat in the main hall just now…” He looked at Benny guiltily.
“No problem, no problem, no problem! You just enjoy yourself!” Benny bowed his head and replied repeatedly, silently making a mental note of this affectionate moment between Mr. Ming Ruan and the Third Prince. He planned to record it in the Emperor and Empress Daily Record later.
“Mhm, then we’ll be going. Thank you for your hard work.” After saying goodbye to Benny, Ming Ruan left the palace with the snake.
However, just a few steps out the door, out of the corner of his eye, Ming Ruan spotted a dark figure in a brilliantly bright garden.
Ming Ruan hesitated and slowed his steps.
It was Su Yuyun, whom he hadn’t seen for several days.
The moment Ming Ruan saw him, Su Yuyun also walked toward him.
“Boss,” Ming Ruan called out.
Su Yuyun: “Su Yuyun.”
Ming Ruan’s mind spun. He changed the form of address: “Oh, Su… Yuyun.”
“Mm.” Su Yuyun looked at Ming Ruan. He suddenly reached out and cupped Ming Ruan’s face. “Here.”
“What’s wrong?” Ming Ruan stiffened his neck and lifted his face.
Su Yuyun leaned down, completely disregarding Lochus’s presence beside them. He rubbed his thumb against the corner of Ming Ruan’s mouth.
Ming Ruan only felt the cold, slightly hard glove brush against his lips. Realizing where Su Yuyun’s hand was lingering, he asked in alarm, “The snake licked me there just now. Is something wrong?!”
Could there be some strange symptom appearing? How else would Boss notice!
Su Yuyun said nothing, just continued rubbing the spot with his fingertip. His body blocked the sunlight, casting a shadow over Ming Ruan. Although those eyes were so close, Ming Ruan couldn’t discern a single trace of emotion in them.
“It’s nothing.” Su Yuyun finally released his hand.
Then, he leaned in again and whispered something into Ming Ruan’s ear.
Lochus watched as Ming Ruan immediately lit up with excitement. Tilting his head up, he remained in that overly intimate posture, conversing with Su Yuyun.
Lochus thought to himself that someone like Su Yuyun must certainly know he had deliberately brought Ming Ruan here, deliberately left his scent on Ming Ruan.
He also knew what Lochus wanted to gain from Ming Ruan, or what he was trying to test through Ming Ruan.
Yet Su Yuyun showed no intention of concealing anything, nor did he take any defensive measures against Lochus’s overt attempts to win him over.
Lochus flicked his tongue rapidly, trying to gather more information.
In any case, he had now clarified the nature of Ming Ruan’s relationship with Su Yuyun, and he was also gaining Ming Ruan’s favor step by step.
It didn’t matter. The prey had already walked into the trap. He had gotten what he wanted.
After finishing his conversation with Ming Ruan, Su Yuyun quickly departed. Watching his departing figure, Ming Ruan suddenly realized why his Boss had seemed a bit strange earlier. Today, Su Yuyun wasn’t wearing his military uniform jacket. He had on only a simple black inner shirt and pants, which made his tall, straight posture, solid waist and abdomen, and broad shoulders and long legs—all top-tier attributes—even more prominent. The small, single-shoulder cape was still there, but it looked much cuter than usual, like a little tail.
After watching Su Yuyun leave, Ming Ruan reached out to pet the snake’s head but pulled his hand back from the cold. He remembered his Boss’s attire just now—though it looked good, “Isn’t Boss cold? Why isn’t he wearing a jacket?”
He didn’t expect an answer to his musings. After all, he was alone here with the snake.
Of course, even if Lochus could speak, he wouldn’t answer Ming Ruan.
As the Adjudicator, holding heavy military power and possessing top-tier personal strength, Su Yuyun was always required to “disarm” whenever he entered the Imperial Palace. He couldn’t bring any weapons inside. That was why, that day when he had summoned his Light Armor Weapon, only the light points of the weapon case appeared, without the longsword. Thus, no one worried that the Adjudicator’s presence in the palace would threaten the safety of the royal family.
Furthermore, due to considerations of title, authority, and balance, whenever Su Yuyun entered the Imperial Palace, he had to remove his military outer coat, which symbolized the Adjudicator’s status, as a sign of respect for the royal family.
As for whether he was cold or not…
After all these years, this was the first time Lochus had ever heard anyone wonder about that.
But soon, Lochus no longer had the leisure to care about the current state of Ming Ruan and Su Yuyun’s relationship. Because ever since Su Yuyun whispered something into Ming Ruan’s ear, Ming Ruan had become incredibly eager and excited. He also seemed distracted from time to time, even absentminded when feeding the snake that afternoon.
What was going on?
The snake, coiled around Ming Ruan, kept flicking its tongue.
After the meal, the snake hooked its tail around Ming Ruan’s wrist as usual, inviting him for a walk. They had played in the Imperial Palace that afternoon; they could go for a stroll in the Simulated Rainforest tonight—he remembered Ming Ruan was also curious about it.
However, for the first time in these past few days, Ming Ruan—who had always prioritized the snake above all else and obeyed its every wish—gently untangled the tail hooked around his wrist.
Ming Ruan looked apologetic. He stammered, “Sorry, baby, but I have something going on tonight!”
As soon as he finished speaking, an attendant came in and whispered a message into Ming Ruan’s ear.
Lochus couldn’t hear what the two were saying. He could only see surprise and joy bloom on Ming Ruan’s face. Then, Ming Ruan got up and ran out.
A snake’s hearing was truly troublesome.
Lochus straightened up, staring in the direction Ming Ruan had left for a moment. He continuously flicked his tongue. Shortly after, he chose to follow.
When prey hits the web, the hunter must be a hundred times more vigilant to ensure it doesn’t escape, investing enormous effort and anticipation. The roles of hunter and prey can easily switch at any moment.
Who was truly being caught was still unknown.
