You Fuzhou fell silent.
He wanted to say no, there was none: “No.”
But in truth, he simply didn’t know what qualified as jealousy. “I just feel… a bit off about it.”
After the words left his mouth, he felt he’d overstepped.
He was meddling too much. Why was he suddenly worrying about such things? How Yu Yan talked to others was his prerogative. He wasn’t hurting anyone.
“…Forget I said anything.”
You Fuzhou lowered his gaze halfway. “Sorry.”
Yu Yan was still smiling, however. He stepped closer, meeting You Fuzhou’s eyes. “You Fuzhou.”
With patient guidance, he coaxed his sentinel—too pure-hearted and hopeless at romance. “This is jealousy. You’re my guard, my sentinel. I’m your guide. It’s perfectly normal for you to feel this way. And I like seeing you jealous. It makes me happy that you do.”
He gazed at You Fuzhou, who now avoided his eyes, restraining the urge to force that gaze back to him. Instead, he spoke softly. “And if you tell me not to, I won’t talk to others like that anymore. Isn’t that good?”
You Fuzhou had to admit, shamefully, that his heart stirred.
Yu Yan pressed his advantage. “I love it when you tell me what to do. It would be even better if you managed me the way you do Ye Songhua. No one’s ever kept tabs on me before. No one’s ever cared enough to try.”
You Fuzhou understood his meaning, but to him, Yu Yan and Ye Songhua were worlds apart. Ye Songhua was like a little sister, young and in need of guidance. Ever since he’d brought her out into the world, he’d been her only family—like a father in place of her brother. Of course he watched over her.
Neither he nor Ye Songhua saw it as “managing.” She merely teased him now and then, from her perspective, because he’d wallowed too long over Rong Yao. The gloom had taken a heavy toll on his mental state.
Ye Songhua had grieved and raged over Rong Yao too, of course. But she knew Rong Yao wouldn’t want to see them languishing like this.
So she’d poke and prod at him occasionally, hoping to rouse some emotion.
Deep down, You Fuzhou knew it.
Sometimes he felt his luck was rotten. Other times, impossibly good.
He’d endured terrible misfortunes.
Yet he’d also met extraordinary people.
Yu Yan was one of them, for him.
“You’re different,” You Fuzhou said.
Those words made Yu Yan’s tone turn faintly desolate, like a wounded adult who understood the greater good. “You’re right. We’re just strangers, after all. Even this guard bond was something I forced on you…”
You Fuzhou paused. “.”
He felt a touch helpless. “Yu Yan.”
Yu Yan halted, stepping back half a pace. “I overstepped. Sorry.”
You Fuzhou truly had no defense against him. “I meant you’re different from Ye Songhua. She’s young, immature. She needs us to teach her all sorts of things.”
He paused briefly. Ye Songhua’s words flitted unbidden through his mind—what if he truly pushed Yu Yan away, and he bonded with some other sentinel? He’d wish them well. But even as the blessing formed in his thoughts, an odd ripple stirred his heart.
An ache he couldn’t name, heavy and stifled.
So he closed the gap himself with half a step. “You’re a few years older than me. The idea of managing you just feels… strange.”
These days together had shown him that Yu Yan knew plenty, anyway. The two of them shared a silent agreement not to revisit that feigned naivety from their first meeting.
A few days earlier, Elada had called again. He hadn’t spelled it out, but it seemed the Yashe Empire was too occupied with rival empires’ open sabotage and covert meddling to press the Freedom Alliance for now. Tracking a ship adrift in space was no easy feat. Anyone with sense knew that with a space carrier and ample supplies, they could drift for decades.
Let alone that they were preying on star pirates like star pirates themselves.
Catching them would be even harder.
Once the pressure lifted, Elada had urged him to return to the Free Alliance.
He made no mention of the pressure or any lectures about You Fuzhou’s repeated unauthorized escapades. He only spoke of training and the resettlement of those races he’d rescued from the Yashe auction house.
You Fuzhou didn’t want to go back.
He hadn’t pressed the issue, saying only that he’d consult the others. But he knew he’d have to give Elada an answer eventually—the man wouldn’t let it drop. And he couldn’t afford a falling-out just yet. He still needed Elada’s influence for certain matters.
And… You Fuzhou doubted Rong Yao would still hold feelings for Elada once she awoke. The free, unbound falcon she’d once pursued had vanished into layers of oppressive clouds, bereft of its former shadow. Even so, he couldn’t shake the nagging “what if.”
Everyone said first loves lingered hardest, especially when Elada had once shone so brightly.
You Fuzhou knew exactly what Elada had been like back then—the only one who’d extended a hand to him and Rong Yao, offering them sanctuary.
Mindful of that old debt, he shrank from severing ties entirely. Elada’s call left him with a pounding headache.
What made it worse was that Elada was right. With the heat dying down, it was time to handle the handoffs.
He couldn’t keep those people aboard forever…
When Yu Yan came to fetch You Fuzhou for dinner, he sensed the man’s distress at once.
He asked what was wrong. You Fuzhou didn’t hide it and laid out the details.
“It’s simple to resolve,” Yu Yan said.
His voice was low, his words measured and gentle, laced with patience. “First, ask the beastmen what they want. I’m sure they’d prefer to choose their own destinations over being assigned ones—even if those spots are safe from recapture. As for training, handle it remotely. If he pushes for in-person sessions or accuses you of dodging him, say you’re tied up treating Rong Yao. No traveling for now. Tell him you’re a vital part of her treatment—you can’t leave my side, or hers.”
Casually, he added, “If he brings up their safety, just ask why it’s called the Free Alliance. That’ll suffice.”
Meticulously, he guided him. “If they choose the Free Alliance for security, let them send a pickup crew. If you’d rather avoid that, dispatch a few of your own to escort and return. He won’t hold them hostage unless he’s itching for a fight—and that gains him nothing. In the Free Alliance, ‘You Fuzhou’ carries far more weight than ‘Elada.'”
“For any questions about why Rong Yao needs you there, you don’t even need details. One line will do.”
Yu Yan continued. “Tell him it’s not just the treatment—you want to be the first face she sees when she wakes. And she’ll want the same from you.”
You Fuzhou stared at the unflappable Yu Yan, his mind reeling. He’s incredible.
Yu Yan hadn’t delved into deep analysis, but You Fuzhou knew Elada well enough. If he followed this script, Elada wouldn’t push back—not even inwardly.
It was logical, yes. But it played the emotional card too.
Beyond that, “Why’s it called the Free Alliance?” landed like a hammer—resonant and dead on target.
Yu Yan had rattled off a torrent of advice and grown parched.
He reached for a cup, pouring himself water. He sipped as You Fuzhou processed it all.
At times, Yu Yan emanated the aura of a grand strategist, a chess master holding the board in his grip. This was one such moment.
He seemed the commander incarnate—or the emperor enthroned above generals.
Yet when You Fuzhou blinked out of his daze, Yu Yan offered a gentle smile, patient as any mentor. “Anything unclear? Other questions?”
You Fuzhou gathered himself and shook his head. “No.”
“You’re amazing,” he said.
Yu Yan paused, his gaze dipping. “These are the only tricks I know.”
The familiar Yu Yan resurfaced. “All I can do is talk.”
You Fuzhou: “…”
He couldn’t help it. “Was it your second personality that took down Li Santian in training yesterday?”
Yu Yan chuckled, the facade cracking. “Sure, let’s say that.”
Leaning on the table, he drew closer, eyes crinkling. “So, which do you prefer—my first personality or my second?”
The question set You Fuzhou aflame. He stammered, “Oh—someone’s calling me,” and bolted.
Yu Yan watched his frantic retreat without pursuit, amusement lighting his smile.
Time spent with You Fuzhou revealed the faint traces of boyish spirit still clinging to the sentinel.
It was probably because You Fuzhou loathed the idea, deep down, of turning into one of those scheming adults who were always plotting this or that. That was why he was always so direct. Staying direct preserved that pure simplicity in him, letting him avoid all the twists and turns and simply say what was on his mind.
Yu Yan rarely encountered people like that.
He loved You Fuzhou’s bold confidence in flaunting his strength, the arrogance that sometimes slipped through, and the subtle tenderness hidden beneath it all.
Yu Yan was certain their compatibility had to be the highest possible.
The moment You Fuzhou had appeared in his life, it was as if he had charged in carrying thousands of brilliant lights, filling Yu Yan’s world with vivid color.
You Fuzhou was vibrancy incarnate.
And now, faced with You Fuzhou’s awkward declaration about the younger one managing the older, Yu Yan’s eyes curved in amusement. Alarm bells blared in You Fuzhou’s heart.
Sure enough, the Guide’s next words teased him.
“Haven’t you heard the term ‘henpecked husband’?” Yu Yan said.
You Fuzhou: “…”
He struggled with it, his face burning, until he finally forced the words out. “I remember our guardian bond… it’s supposed to be pure.”
Yu Yan let out an “oh,” but he stopped feigning pitifulness. Instead, he said, “But I like you. I thought you already knew.”
Over these past days, Yu Yan had dropped plenty of hints to You Fuzhou.
You Fuzhou: “…”
He had run off to the observatory by himself precisely to mull this over.
Yu Yan had the rhythm completely under his control. “Do you want to know why I like you?”
You Fuzhou hesitated, then drew a deep breath and met Yu Yan’s gaze squarely. “Yeah.”
Not long ago, neither of them could have said they “liked” each other. They had merely held a favorable impression—at best, you could call it “good feelings.”
“Because you’re the type of person anyone who spends time with is bound to fall for,” Yu Yan replied.
He was too dazzling.
A clean, pure sun, irresistible to moths like them, born and bred in the filth of the gutters.
They would throw themselves desperately toward his light… and Yu Yan was even more fervent.
Not only did he crave getting close to You Fuzhou—he wanted to claim him entirely for himself.
He could compromise, just a little.
The warm glow could keep shining on others, but the sun itself had to be his.
To You Fuzhou, Yu Yan was painting far too glowing a picture of him. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.
He stood there, stunned. More than the embarrassment of discussing such things with Yu Yan, it was the impact of those words that left him flustered and at a loss.
“…I’m not that great,” he murmured.
“Don’t put me on a pedestal,” You Fuzhou added softly.
He had his moments of destructive impulses, dark thoughts that ran counter to everything he stood for now. He had to rein himself in, strive for that inner discipline. He wasn’t some flawless saint.
Yu Yan shook his head. “You really have no idea how wonderful you are.”
He continued, speaking directly to You Fuzhou. “Let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about you and me.”
His voice was gentle. “You know I’m not lying. No one’s ever been this kind to me before. Ever.”
If it had started as mere appreciation, a sense that they suited each other well, the true spark that set his heart racing came the day he learned You Fuzhou had gone to fetch seawater from Siren Star for him.
And…
Every seven days now, You Fuzhou ventured out to refresh the water in his tank.
To minimize the delay on his return trips, their mothership was parked in a spot where the jump back from Siren Star took only half a day.
When Yu Yan had asked why he bothered changing the water, You Fuzhou had explained that he’d read fish tanks needed refreshing every seven days.
A Spiritual Body didn’t require it, of course. You Fuzhou was doing it solely for him.
After all, You Fuzhou knew Yu Yan slept inside it every night.
And…
Yu Yan gazed at You Fuzhou. “If I told you right now that I like you, that I want to bond with you… would you bond with me, then go rescue Rong Yao?”
You Fuzhou didn’t hesitate. “No. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”
He frowned. “If something like this comes up again in the future, you can’t agree to it. Isn’t that just exploiting your feelings?”
Yu Yan gave a bleak little smile, making himself look faintly tragic. “See? That’s exactly how you are… How could I not like you?”
You Fuzhou: “…”
He fell silent for a few seconds, then sighed. “You… give me some time to think, okay?”
In saying he needed time, what You Fuzhou really wanted was for Yu Yan to think it over more carefully himself.
Even if Yu Yan wasn’t some innocent little rabbit, he hadn’t grown up in a healthy environment. A little kindness might have him mistaking gratitude for something deeper.
—No matter which of them ended up on top, once a Sentinel and Guide bonded, it was always the Guide who came out on the losing end. A Sentinel could leave a permanent mark on their Guide, one that couldn’t be erased even if regrets set in later.
You Fuzhou, as a Sentinel, understood this all too well. Their genetics bred a paranoia and possessiveness that ordinary people could never comprehend.
Sentinels were born warriors, after all—and warriors came with their share of flaws.
You Fuzhou knew he had them too. That was why he’d told Yu Yan not to idealize him.
He wasn’t perfect.
The first time he’d laid eyes on Yu Yan in the water, a fleeting impulse had surged through his mind more than once: the urge to hide him away.
He didn’t want anyone else to see. Didn’t want to share the sight.
Though You Fuzhou had berated himself harshly for it afterward, he knew the truth… Yu Yan was different for him. Special.
It was the first time such thoughts had ever made him want to put a bullet in his own head.
But Yu Yan like that was so alluring—like a Sea Monster. He didn’t have to do a thing. One glance, and he had your soul ensnared.
~~~
