MWITA CH140

On L1001 of Cetus, snow fell year‑round. Since its discovery, more than 90% of the time the planet had been blanketed in snowfall, earning it the name Snow Star.

Two centuries ago it had been transformed from a barren wasteland into a residential zone. Its picturesque snowy scenery attracted wealthy elites, but most never lived there permanently; the year‑round residency never even reached 1% of the total population.

Song Yu scowled as he skimmed the information scrolling across the virtual screen.

Snow Star’s economy once thrived on tourism. But four years ago, restrictions tightened. That year’s GDP halved, and for the past three years it had dropped lower each cycle.

Why would the empire cut off so much lucrative tax revenue?

He racked his mind: what happened that year? Back then, all his energy went into academics and fending off his idiot brother Song Ke. He’d paid little attention to such “minor” matters.

Did his father already sense something was off back then?

The thought flashed through—Song Yu shook his head. Improbable. If the King had realized that early, he would have also recognized Ji Ling’s problem. Otherwise why keep the man close even now?

“Come eat.”
Rong Shi’s calm voice floated from the kitchen.

The fragrance of sweet‑and‑sour ribs rose into his nose. Song Yu instantly abandoned speculation, washed his hands, and sat obediently, bowls ready.

Rong Shi carried the dish to the table—only to find a greedy cat’s eyes glinting at him.
“…Your drool’s dripping.”

Song Yu already had chopsticks in hand, and the moment the dish landed he snapped a piece up into his mouth.

The bright tang of vinegar, the sweet caramelized sugar, the soft fatty meat yielding into crisp edges—perfection.

In that moment, Song Yu fully understood what it meant to have a spouse.

“Keeping me hooked on this and still demanding I quit sugar? Can’t you be a normal human?” Song Yu complained, offering him a bite.

Rong Shi calmly leaned forward and bit. “I feed you. You quit yours. Easy.”

“…Then I won’t—”

Rong Shi sat and lifted his chopsticks. “Resisting temptation is what makes a true alpha.”

Mouth full of rice, Song Yu muttered, “I don’t need to be an alpha. I’ve no preference for gender.”

“……” Rong Shi.

Halfway through the meal, his terminal buzzed. Qing Li’s voice boomed from the audio‑call:
“You insist on going?”

The two men glanced at each other.
“Yes.”

Silence.

“I’ll send you the First Corps Commander’s contact. But do not contact him unless absolutely necessary.” A pause. “And don’t force it. Prioritize safety above all.”

“Good.” Rong Shi’s eyes flickered. “When I return, there are things I want to ask you.”

“Hmph. At this point, you still have things you don’t understand?” Qing Li snorted, clearly displeased.

While they spoke, Song Yu stuffed three more ribs into his mouth. This taste—I could eat ten plates.

Then the terminal chimed again. Song Yu rose to the living room.

Chestnut—the black‑uniformed shadow guard—appeared on projection.
“Your Highness, the ship will dock at Civilian Spaceport S8 at 1400 hours. Only ten minutes. Please do not delay.”

“Got it. What else?”

“The names are too many. Garlic and Spinach request more manpower, but my own lines are stretched thin.”

After extracting the database at the base, they had disconnected and exported the personnel list. Qin Luo was categorizing and assigning shadows. Song Yu’s order was each person be tailed by at least two guards in shifts—ready to seize all targets in one sweep when the time came.

“How many do you need? Tell Qin Luo, say they’re from me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Transmission cut. Song Yu checked his watch—three hours until docking. Plenty of time.

As he straightened, his gaze caught the tea set on a wooden shelf. Among the purple clay pots sat a small white porcelain bottle, conspicuously out of place.

He uncorked it—inside lay crystalline granules like coarse salt.

Rong Shi entered just then.

“…What’s this doing here?” Song Yu asked, handing it over.

“Salt. Father put it there.”

“…Salt, in a tea set?”

Rong Shi’s lip curled faintly, uncharacteristically sardonic. “Father liked a pinch of salt in his tea. Said it was distinguished.”

Song Yu chuckled. “Don’t tell me this is 3S tribute salt from Salt Star?”

“…Yes.” Rong Shi’s face returned blank. “Pretentious nonsense. Do nobles actually drink like this?”

“Not many. I only know one person who does.”

–

After lunch, they had no time to linger. Motion sensors dimmed the house systems into standby.

Song Yu lingered wistfully at the neglected yard. “No time to weed with you.”

“Home won’t run away,” Rong Shi said simply, lacing his fingers with his. “Next time.”

“And the sweet‑sour ribs?” Song Yu pressed.

“…They ran away.”

“……”

---

At 13:00 they arrived at the spaceport. Quiet. They bought ordinary tickets to Ursa Minor, avoided the VIP lounge, and sat in the common waiting hall.

Song Yu yawned and tucked onto Rong Shi’s shoulder. “…Sleepy.”

Rong Shi angled himself so his cat rested easier. “Told you to rest earlier. You never listen.”

“My hands are still sore. That’s your fault.” Song Yu cracked his knuckles menacingly.

“….” Rong Shi massaged his hand quietly. “Don’t provoke me next time.”

“…Provoke? That was a challenge, and you don’t even know the words for it.”

All the while, Rong Shi’s gaze swept unobtrusively across the lobby beneath the brim of his cap.

At the ticket machines, his eyes met a young alpha’s. The boy flinched, then turned back, stealing glances.

Moments later, he came over. “Hey, aren’t you Chairman Rong Shi?” Eyes wide with excitement.

“…And you are?”

“I’m Chen Zhenyu’s brother! He’s at Central Academy too—he worships you! Showed me dozens of your videos, man, you’re amazing!”

Polite but cold, Rong Shi didn’t rebuff but gave little.

The alpha, emboldened, sat down eagerly. “So what brings you here? Visiting home?”

“Mm. Taking my partner to see my family.”

“…Going back to Academy after?”

“Took two days’ leave. Ursa Minor trip.”

The boy’s eyes flickered oddly. Knew too much.

“…lots of fun things there,” he muttered, then excused himself.

Song Yu’s lips curved faintly. “Obvious act.”

---

Two o’clock. The AI announced boarding. Rong Shi shook Song Yu awake.

They passed security. Song Yu, actually half asleep, muttered murderously. “It took you too long last night. Next time, I’ll cut your time in half.”

“….” Rong Shi’s face darkened. Cut what exactly?

Meanwhile, from the lobby, the young alpha watched them disappear into the boarding tunnel. He typed quickly:
[They’re heading for Ursa Minor.]

But the ship tail suddenly decoupled—splitting apart mid‑flight, veering off.

[01: Idiot took the bait—yo yo, check it out!]
[00: Target account identified. Check it out.]

Song Yu sneered. “Blind guess—Queen or Song Ke.”

Inside, Rong Shi wiped his face with a hot towel and asked 01, “Result of the DNA test?”

The AI rolled out of his device into a metal orb, projecting genetic analysis files.

Song Yu peeled an orange casually. “Clone?”

Rong Shi frowned, reading. “…Twins.”

The genomes were highly similar, but not identical.

Relief, mixed with heaviness.

“…Ji Ming only had one son.”

01 reported: “All databases confirm, one child only. No marriage record. No parental info.”

Song Yu frowned. “If truly unmarried, then either illegitimate twins… or artificially generated from the gene center. But a legitimate center would always leave file traces.”

Even illegitimate births were logged with both parents. But here—nothing.

Why did Ji Ming record only one child, leaving the other unregistered, a ghost with no citizenship from birth?

---

Arriving at Cetus, Snow Star, they again passed security. Through the T1 hangar, a world of white swept their eyes.

“ACHOO!” Song Yu sneezed at the cold wind.

Weight fell on his shoulders. A coat.

“Wear it. I don’t like taking care of patients,” Rong Shi said.

“Liar.” Song Yu slipped in. “You enjoyed caring for Mian Mian.”

“……You saw wrong.”

“No point hiding. You’ve got a thing for frail beauties, right?” Song Yu teased low at his ear.

Rong Shi jerked slightly. Big Cat’s face flashed in his mind. His ears reddened instantly.

“…Your ears are red,” Song Yu started gleefully—until someone bumped into him from behind.

He dodged fast. Rong Shi caught his waist, shielding him, and his sharp eyes locked on the figure.

A middle‑aged beta, tall, hair slick, round glasses gleaming, overcoat draping to his shins, polished shoes.

“Sorry, sorry. Someone pushed me behind. Did I hurt you?” The man stammered with gloved hands clasped.

“…No,” Rong Shi replied flatly.

“Good, good.” He exhaled, about to leave—

But Song Yu seized his arm. “In such a rush—where to?”

The beta stiffened.

“My son’s waiting at home,” he replied tightly.

Song Yu sneered. “Since when did you have a son… Uncle Yin?”

He mouthed the last words silently.

The beta’s eyes flickered—then regret shadowed his face. Glancing around warily, he lowered his voice. “…Talk outside.”

Song Yu released him lazily, turning to Rong Shi. “Come on.”

Rong Shi’s eyes lingered. Something was wrong. When Song Yu revealed his identity, the man hadn’t panicked—he had relaxed.

---

Author’s Note:

Song Cat: I, top‑tier kitty, skill: striking blossoms and pulling weeds. [licks paw]
Rong Bunny: …Thanks for that…