Mu Chenxing had looked up Pei Yao before, and it was all basically commendations.
When it came to judging people, he always trusted his instincts, which were rarely wrong.
He had a natural fondness for soldiers too, and Pei Yao was one—a soldier who’d earned his merits through blood and sweat. As long as he hadn’t committed any crimes, Mu Chenxing’s impression of him wouldn’t sour.
Especially after spending time together; the details didn’t lie.
He didn’t doubt Pei Yao’s character. He was just curious about his personality—was the gentleness and thoughtfulness Pei Yao showed around him all an act?
He was a little pissed, so he’d indirectly scolded Pei Yao by dipping into some entertaining gossip news before finally pulling up the military’s official site to check the disciplinary records.
Pei Yao: “…”
He grabbed Mu Chenxing’s wrist. “These are boring. Let me spar with you instead.”
Mu Chenxing glared at him.
Pei Yao didn’t let go, leaning in with a cheeky grin to steal a kiss. “Not gonna practice? Scared? Come on, let big brother comfort you~”
Mu Chenxing slapped a palm over his face, flattening his nose, and shoved him to the other end of the sofa.
“Don’t bother me,” he said.
Pei Yao: “…”
He scooted back over and hugged him tight. “Little Star, have you fallen out of love? Are you starting to dislike your boyfriend already? We just—”
Mu Chenxing slapped his hand over Pei Yao’s face again, growling fiercely, “Keep messing around, and I’ll break off our friendship!”
Pei Yao froze. “…Break off our friendship?”
“Yeah.” Mu Chenxing glanced at the time on the holo-screen and said solemnly, “Breaking off until six o’clock!”
Pei Yao: “…Pfft.”
He persisted through the slap, pulling him into his arms and ruffling his hair vigorously. “What a kid.”
Mu Chenxing struggled free with a couple of punches, huffing, “Are you a Ball Pig? I’m telling you my anger needs two hours to cool off!!”
The Ball Pig was the dumbest breed among the Alliance’s common pets.
This time, Pei Yao finally stopped tugging at him. He just lounged against the sofa, smiling slyly as he watched. “Too subtle. I don’t get it.”
Mu Chenxing ignored him and started searching—
Whoosh. A dozen pages popped up.
Thirty entries per page, twenty-one pages total, the last one incomplete—for a grand total of 619.
Every name and rank matched.
Which meant from age twenty-two when Pei Yao hit the Border, over fifteen years he’d averaged 41.2 disciplinary actions per year—over 3.4 per month.
Subtract holidays and wartime, and that was several tickets a week?!
Mu Chenxing’s jaw dropped as he turned to Pei Yao.
Pei Yao awkwardly rubbed his nose, laughing it off. “Who doesn’t make a few mistakes when they’re young, right?”
Mu Chenxing was speechless.
The records were public, but only listed the infractions—no details.
For details, you’d need Pei Yao’s personal account.
Mu Chenxing twisted around to grab his wristband. “Open it up for me.”
Pei Yao: “Nothing worth seeing. Just know your boyfriend’s tall, handsome, and badass— that’s all you need—” He suddenly hissed, yanking Mu Chenxing into his arms.
Mu Chenxing blinked. “You—”
His mouth was blocked.
A while later, Pei Yao released him and sighed dramatically at the ceiling. “When will this torment end?”
Mu Chenxing: “…”
Too lazy to deal with him, he crawled to the other side and pulled up his coursework.
Pei Yao stayed lounging on the sofa, eyes fixed on him. “Not looking anymore?”
Mu Chenxing: “It’s military records, after all. No forcing it.”
He flashed a bared-teeth grin. “Once I get into the military system later, I can see them myself.”
Pei Yao crossed his legs to hide certain situations, his voice a bit low. “To access Admiral-level disciplinary records in the backend, you’d need Discipline Department access or high enough rank. Tough for a Medical College major to swing that.”
Mu Chenxing: “Hmph, that’s for me to worry about.”
Pei Yao smiled faintly, eyes probing. “Sometimes you really don’t seem like an eighteen-year-old student.”
Mu Chenxing: “Oh.”
He’d said as much before, but Pei Yao didn’t buy it.
He focused on his coursework.
Pei Yao propped his head on his hand, watching him for a while before turning back to his own holo-screen, pulling out a stylus to scribble notes.
Mu Chenxing glanced over, figuring he was handling work, and looked away.
The two busied themselves quietly all afternoon.
Luo Chen poked his head out twice midway, then retreated silently to his room.
The crowd brawl from earlier seemed to have blown over.
After dinner, Mu Chenxing and Pei Yao cleaned up the dishes and kitchen together, then took a stroll.
By the time Mu Chenxing got back, it wasn’t even nine. After a shower, he could still study more.
Luo Chen watched it all, and the tension that had risen since Pei Yao arrived slowly faded.
The next day was Lunar New Year.
Perhaps from the relaxation, Luo Chen slept soundly. When he got up, Mu Chenxing had already brought back breakfast and was in the kitchen with Pei Yao prepping ingredients for lunch.
Luo Chen couldn’t dissuade them, so he squeezed in—the three of them handled it together.
Considering yesterday’s mishap and Luo Chen’s physical state, Mu Chenxing skipped suggesting they go out. They ate and stayed in.
The trio kept busy, and it felt harmonious.
Except Pei Yao came early and left late each day—like any ordinary guy living life.
Mu Chenxing was right at home, but Luo Chen always felt a surreal haze. Every morning he’d seek out Mu Chenxing first for a glance and greeting before brushing his teeth. After naps, same thing—a peek, then slip away quietly. Midway through cooking, a head poke from the kitchen. During Mu Chenxing’s quiet study sessions, he’d pass by repeatedly.
Mu Chenxing noticed but said nothing, even leaving his bedroom door open at night for Luo Chen to look.
The peaceful, leisurely days flew by, and Mu Chenxing’s short holiday ended.
Before heading back, Luo Chen packed a huge box for him to take to school—part daily necessities, the rest all snacks.
Luo Chen explained, “These are Galaxy Star specialty snacks I bought before leaving. If you don’t like them, share with classmates.”
Mu Chenxing chuckled helplessly. “I can buy more if I want. They haven’t gone back to school yet anyway. Plus, even Galaxy Star specialties are available online.”
No wonder Luo Chen had been taking deliveries—he’d thought it was just restocking sundries.
Luo Chen paused, then smiled. “True, online delivery anywhere—Galaxy Star stuff’s cheap too—students always liked these—glad you can buy them—what else do you need?”
The bespectacled young man smiled calmly, but in seconds jumped topics, fingers fidgeting at his pant seam.
Mu Chenxing fell silent.
In his previous life, his parents had passed before he could repay them. No family burdens, no worries—he’d charged ahead on dangerous missions post-graduation, forgetting what elder care felt like…
Mu Chenxing stepped forward and hugged the slender man. “Thanks, Dad. I hadn’t even thought of getting Galaxy Star souvenirs for classmates—you’re so thoughtful.”
Luo Chen froze, stammering, “Ah, I-I saw other parents do it for their kids, so I got some…”
Mu Chenxing rested his chin on his shoulder. “Mm, so thanks. Having a dad is the best—no one did this for me before.”
Not during his working years, not in the Mu family—and from current signs, they wouldn’t be this considerate.
Luo Chen’s eyes reddened instantly. He hugged back lightly, voice trembling. “Sorry.”
Mu Chenxing patted him. “Don’t apologize. If anyone’s sorry, it’s me.”
“It’s not your fault—”
“Drop it.” Mu Chenxing let go, changing the subject. “I checked—the school’s not far. Intercity flight vehicle takes two hours. If you’re free weekends, come visit.”
“Post-New Year I have competitions. After they end, I figure once or twice a month. I’ll check your schedule and ping ahead.”
“Okay!” Luo Chen lit up, then asked cautiously, “If your competitions make it inconvenient, can I still come?”
Mu Chenxing frowned slightly. “Worried I can’t spend much time with you.”
Luo Chen: “No problem. I’ll head back after a meal.”
Mu Chenxing: “…Four hours round-trip for one meal? You’ll kill yourself.”
“Won’t. I can sleep on the flight vehicle.”
Mu Chenxing: “…Fine, as long as your health holds—but we’re not rich. Gotta save. Round trip’s over a hundred Alliance Coins, plus food—too wasteful.”
Luo Chen: “I don’t spend much usually.”
Mu Chenxing stern-faced: “No. Can’t be that thrifty anymore. Eat and drink properly—take care of yourself.”
“I’ll take care of—”
“You stay well, and I have a home, something to care about. You stay well to care for me.” Mu Chenxing said earnestly. “Holidays and festivals, I wanna eat your cooking.”
…
The high-performance flight vehicle streaked through the night sky, city lights blurring like flowing stardust—gorgeous.
Mu Chenxing peered out the window at the one tailing them. “Captain Chen’s crew in that flight vehicle, right?”
“Since you know, no need for them to hide.”
Mu Chenxing “oh”ed and opened his coursework, diving in.
Pei Yao glanced at him. “You really decided to fall out with your dad?”
Mu Chenxing didn’t look up. “Never been good, so no ‘falling out.'”
All the details showed the original owner’s status with Mu Yifan—his life was already gone, any debts repaid.
Pei Yao chuckled. “You’re pretty clear-cut with loves and hates.”
Mu Chenxing: “Mm. No time for endless entanglements.”
Pei Yao casually: “Relationships too?”
Mu Chenxing clicked next page, calm. “Relationships too.”
Pei Yao again: “What kinda issue would make you ditch a relationship?”
Mu Chenxing paused, looked up, eyes narrowed. “What’re you getting at?”
Pei Yao grinned. “Nipping problems in the bud. Save you dumping me someday.”
Mu Chenxing rolled his eyes, head down again. “Don’t cheat, hook up casually, or philander.”
Pei Yao perked up. “How do you define philandering?”
Mu Chenxing: “…”
Pei Yao: “No other demands? Like monthly dates, visit frequency, post-marriage salary handover, etc.?”
Mu Chenxing: “Not picky. Go handle your stuff if needed—I want space when busy too.”
Pei Yao: “…So heartless. How does that pretty mouth spit such cold words!”
Mu Chenxing, at his limit, looked up. “Tell me—if you’re reassigned to the Border now, and we barely see each other a year, you’d dump me?”
Pei Yao: “…”
Mu Chenxing: “I wouldn’t. But if you’re that twisted—getting it up for hordes of alien beasts, playing bestiality—then no.”
Pei Yao: “…”
He sighed helplessly. “Can’t it be humans in the military district?”
Mu Chenxing: “Oh, cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Pei Yao sighed. “This attitude—you make me feel so disposable.”
Mu Chenxing: “I don’t kiss disposables.”
Pei Yao: “…”
A cool, refreshing pheromone scent suddenly enveloped him.
Mu Chenxing froze, frowning up. “What’s with you?”
Pei Yao smirked. “Say stuff like that to seduce me? I get it, I get it~”
The cool pheromones wrapped Pei Yao, coiling and kneading.
Mu Chenxing: “…”
He let Pei Yao mess around, calmly continuing his coursework.
Back at the still-empty dorm building, Pei Yao’s pheromones finally withdrew.
Mu Chenxing refused the window delivery service, hugging the snack box and dragging his luggage into the building alone.
Pei Yao kept harassing him in chat.
Mu Chenxing replied twice, pinged Luo Chen he was safe, checked in on the training group, then unpacked, washed up, and slept.
A peaceful night.
He woke to a message from Pei Yao: Little Star, gotta head out for a bit. For anything, contact Chu Heng—he’ll sort it.
Followed by a simple namecard: Chen Chuheng.
Mu Chenxing replied first: All good, everything smooth.
He casually added the friend.
The other side accepted instantly.
Mu Chenxing paused for a second, sent a greeting emoji, but got no reply. He didn’t think much of it, closed the holo-screen, and went to wash up on his own.
Once training started, he had no time for this Captain Chen. That evening, Zhang Yunli picked him up for dinner together. After that, he focused entirely on training—apart from occasional chats with Luo Chen, his roommates, and the association group. He was otherwise oblivious to the outside world.
Until Tong Xiao and the others shared a news link in the group—
Alliance Eagle in Massive Scandal!! The Youngest Admiral in History Caught Soliciting an Underage Omega!
Mu Chenxing frowned.
In the group, messages from Tong Xiao and the other two flew by:
“Oh my god, he’s crashed and burned!”
“The military network even posted the disciplinary notice—ironclad evidence.”
“Damn it, and I thought he was the ultimate Alpha role model.”
Mu Chenxing: …?
He clicked the link and read from the top.
District 67 Luofan City.
The slightly blurry photo above… one was Pei Yao, the other him.
They’d been together every day those few days—who knew which one it captured?
Hah, Pei Yao still dared say no platform had dropped his news yet? Here it was.
The group chat continued, his three roommates now on a tirade cursing all Alphas as black-hearted.
Mu Chenxing had no choice but to type: That’s me.
Tong Xiao: ??
Xia Weizhen: ??
Tao Xirui: ??
Mu Chenxing: Where’s the disciplinary notice? Let me see.
Pei Yao had said the notice was internal military info, invisible to civilians. The earlier link hadn’t included a screenshot.
Tong Xiao immediately flung one over.
“…Violation of military discipline?” Mu Chenxing sent a voice message directly. “It doesn’t even explain the reason? How does this tie into the news?”
Tong Xiao: “No idea, it’s trending everywhere. I saw it and forwarded right away.”
“Who would’ve thought one of the leads was you—wait, that rich old guy is Pei Yao?!”
Mu Chenxing: Yes.
The four-person dorm group exploded with dozens of ellipses.
Mu Chenxing: You guys keep spamming. I’m going to ask what’s up.
He closed the group chat and switched to contacting Pei Yao.
No reply.
He tried a video call—recipient not in network service area.
Mu Chenxing frowned. After thinking for a bit, he messaged that Captain Chen Chuheng.
Chen Chuheng: The Admiral’s fine. He’s probably busy.
Mu Chenxing: It’s trending. Doesn’t it need handling?
Chen Chuheng: No action orders received yet.
Mu Chenxing: …
He got zero info.
He trusted Pei Yao could handle it, but the total radio silence was frustrating.
The malicious news held the top trending spot for a full day, sparking endless discussion and doubt, yet no one came forward to debunk or clarify.
Even Luo Chen and Zhang Yunli reached out asking about it.
Mu Chenxing reassured Luo Chen first, then gave Zhang Yunli the real story and asked him to help inquire.
Zhang Yunli: Got it. I’ll have your principal look into it.
Mu Chenxing: Thanks, appreciate it.
