While the trio was entirely confused about each other’s identities, Hu Jiang received a report from one of his men.

“Captain Hu, the Fierce Tiger are pursuing us! It doesn’t look like they intend to let us leave!”

Hearing this, Wei Feng gestured for everyone to head back to the cockpit first, leaving other matters for later.

On the way, Hu Jiang walked beside Wei Feng, saying in a heavy voice, “We only have one starship in the vicinity. If the Fierce Tigers pin us down, it will be very difficult to break out.”

Having just decimated their feed base, the Fierce Tigers wouldn’t let them off easily. Wei Feng weighed his options as he walked.

“Escape N1926 first. They won’t chase us too far; they’ll soon be unable to even protect themselves,” Li Xiao chimed in calmly.

Hearing Li Xiao’s certain tone, Wei Feng canted his head, asking with curiosity, “How so?”

Before Li Xiao could respond, Hu Jiang thought of something: “There are rumors breaking out online saying that the Fierce Tigers hijacked exchange students from the Danse nobility. Could that be true?”

“What kind of mess is that?” Wei Feng was completely in the dark.

Hu Jiang: “Take a look online; it’s still occupying the top trending spots.”

Wei Feng rarely browsed the network. Hearing this, he accessed a social media platform and immediately spotted the top trending keywords: #EightLegionsUrgetlyHeadingToSouthernCrossForRescue#, #ThirtyHoursSinceTheExchangeStudentsWereHijacked#, #LiXiaoHijackVideoLeaked#.

Wei Feng tapped the last one.

In the video, an Alpha youth with a swollen, bruised face sat on a metallic chair with his hands cuffed. A military dagger was pressed against the side of his neck, yet his gaze toward the lens remained unyielding, brimming with murderous intent.

-“Don’t harm Li Xiao!”

-“It’s just thirty tons of gold—give it to them! If the government won’t pay, we can crowdfund it ourselves!”

-“A government starship actually getting plundered by star pirates? What kind of dystopian news is this?”

-“Hoping everyone makes it back safely!”

-“Though that’s terrible, his gaze is absolutely killing me, ugh. The government is already taking action, nothing will happen to him!”

-“Star pirates are only after money; they won’t kill hostages carelessly. Otherwise, what leverage do they have against the military legions?”

Wei Feng looked at the video, then back at Li Xiao walking behind him. One was a ferocious wolf pup, while the other was as tranquil as an old monk—poles apart.

Are these two truly the same person? Could old Hu have recognized the wrong guy?

Upon entering the cockpit, Li Xiao’s gaze swept across the room. Wei Feng caught his meaning and instructed his subordinate to escort them to a lounge: “Go tend to your wounds first. I’ll join you in a bit.”

The escorting subordinate sneaked two extra glances at Li Xiao and Song Jin before sliding open the lounge door. “Take a seat, little brothers. I’ll call the doctor over.”

“No need,” Song Jin stepped inside. “We can handle it ourselves.”

Seeing his cold demeanor, the subordinate refrained from pressing further, closing the door as he departed.

After instructing 07 to intercept and neutralize all surveillance and listening devices in the lounge, Song Jin stripped off his night-vision goggles and cap. He leaned back casually against the edge of a table, tapping the space beside him to signal Li Xiao to come over: “Take off your coat.”

Without a word, Li Xiao shed his coat and tossed it onto the table.

Song Jin noted that the left sleeve was shredded in several places, the tears stained with blood. He produced a palm-sized emergency medical kit from his inner pocket.

Li Xiao rolled up his sleeve. “Just how many things do you keep in your pockets?”

“Why don’t you feel around for yourself and find out?” Song Jin replied casually while cleaning the wound.

Li Xiao: “…”

Feeling around inside someone’s inner jacket pocket? Wouldn’t that action look incredibly suggestive?

09 drifted out from the terminal bracelet. Waiting until Song Jin finished applying the disinfectant, it transformed into a therapeutic light ring around Li Xiao’s forearm, projecting a line of text above.

【If I had enough power, I wouldn’t have let you get hurt.】

It looked somewhat disheartened. Li Xiao spoke softly, “But you successfully backed up all the data. That’s already very impressive.”

09: 【Of course!】

Song Jin dropped the blood-stained cotton swabs back into the medical kit, sealing the lid to activate high-temperature incineration.

“Did you know beforehand that Wei Feng was with the Ravens?”

Li Xiao: “No.”

Song Jin grew pensive, directing 07 to infiltrate the starship’s surveillance grid. Numerous virtual windows popped into their fields of vision. Aside from external optics, there was a radar display.

The starship was rapidly clearing N1926’s atmosphere, but two Fierce Tiger vessels were pursuing them relentlessly, with numerous other ships closing in from the periphery.

“Danse wouldn’t truly trade thirty tons of gold for you, would they?” After asking, Song Jin couldn’t help but chuckle.

Li Xiao: “Even if they truly brought thirty tons of gold, the Fierce Tigers wouldn’t be able to produce the hostage to complete the trade. They still wouldn’t escape a severe thrashing.”

Regardless of whether the Meng family and the Fierce Tigers were in collusion or what rescue strategy the military deployed, given how events had unfolded, the Fierce Tigers were destined to lose everything.

Song Jin: “This frame-up is quite lethal. It’s practically digging up their ancestral graves.”

Li Xiao: “They initiated the conflict. At most, this counts as turning a fake act into reality.”

Song Jin canted his head toward him, asking in a lazy, drawn-out drawl, “Then why haven’t I seen you turn a fake act into reality with me?”

Li Xiao: “…”

Meeting Song Jin’s gaze, Li Xiao replied with absolute gravity, “With you, I have always been entirely sincere. There is no fake act to turn into reality.”

Song Jin: “…”

You win, kid.

In the cockpit, Wei Feng and Hu Jiang stood before the tactical console, monitoring the battlefield.

A subordinate reported anxiously from the side: “Boss, our munitions are running low!”

Wei Feng’s face remained grim. “Burn through them first.”

Just as their ammunition approached total depletion, the starships closing in from the periphery suddenly reversed their vectors. Even the two vessels pursuing them closely decelerated.

“They’re retreating!” the subordinate reported with joy.

Hu Jiang patched a communication line through to a subordinate stationed in Sector 7, and hurried, ragged breathing echoed from the speaker.

“The Danse armada suddenly breached the perimeter! The Fierce Tiger headquarters is entirely surrounded! I’m currently escaping the containment zone!”

Hu Jiang traded a look with Wei Feng, instructing the subordinate on the line: “Drop whatever you’re doing and leave Sector 7 immediately!”

“Understood!”

Terminating the call, Hu Jiang glanced toward the lounge before asking Wei Feng, “What do you plan to do?”

Wei Feng remained silent, his mind in complete disarray.

Hu Jiang lowered his voice: “The timing isn’t right. Why don’t we deliver them back to a secure location first and handle other matters later?”

Wei Feng knitted his brows. “But they are investigating as well.”

Hu Jiang: “Can you verify his allegiance? What if he turns out exactly like those people from back then?” Seeing Wei Feng hesitate, Hu Jiang added heavily, “We cannot afford to gamble!”

While the Fierce Tigers were being utterly boxed in by the Danse military, Wei Feng entered the lounge, locking eyes with Li Xiao and Song Jin.

“Are you the Second Prince of Danse?” Wei Feng was the first to break the silence.

Li Xiao had a thousand ways to deny it, but facing Wei Feng, he implicitly confirmed it: “Didn’t you already read the news online?”

Wei Feng: “The news also stated you were hijacked by the Fierce Tigers. But what is the reality?”

“Because I escaped,” Li Xiao countered calmly. “Do you truly believe those people from the Fierce Tigers could keep me under control?”

That statement held merit. Wei Feng had witnessed Li Xiao’s combat proficiency; it wasn’t on the same tier as those cowards from the Fierce Tigers.

Song Jin had no patience for their verbal sparring, asking directly, “You mentioned those entities in the honeycombs were feed. Who exactly are they being fed to?”

Wei Feng’s gaze swept over. “Who directed you to the floating city?”

Song Jin: “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

Wei Feng: “Answer mine first, and then I’ll consider whether to answer yours.”

Li Xiao: “I already paid your compensation.”

Wei Feng: “…”

Li Xiao stated expressionlessly, “If you don’t consider us clients, then please settle the fees for us breaking you out of the floating city. Not a single cent less than two million.”

Wei Feng choked. “You’re a prince. Are you truly lacking this bit of pocket change?”

Li Xiao: “Those are two separate matters. Are you paying or not?”

Song Jin chimed in smoothly, “We possessed the means to break out from thousands of AI guards. Naturally, we also possess the means to make this starship reverse course on the spot. Though the Fierce Tigers won’t pursue you further, crossing paths with the Danse legions would be quite a headache, wouldn’t it?”

“One demands money, the other demands my life,” Wei Feng let out a cold chuckle. “Are all young people nowadays this malicious?”

Song Jin: “We’re in the same trade; we’re cut from the same cloth.”

“Giving you one minute to consider,” Li Xiao flicked his finger, projecting a countdown interface in mid-air.

Wei Feng fell into immediate silence. Li Xiao didn’t press, simply waiting as the two sides faced off across the table.

Wei Feng had shed his hide cap and outerwear before entering the floating city, and his ridiculous tinted glasses were long gone. His dark hair framed his sharply chiseled facial structure—a textbook rugged countenance.

Song Jin’s eyes narrowed slightly as a hazy, bizarre sense of familiarity suddenly crystallized. From this angle, Wei Feng’s profile bore a subtle resemblance to Li Xiao’s. Both were of similar height, both were Alphas, and Wei Feng’s physical proportions and aura carried a delicate similarity to Li Xiao’s—though upon closer inspection, distinct variations emerged. Come to think of it, their combat maneuvers were also remarkably aligned.

What exactly is the story with these two?

As the countdown neared its end, Wei Feng looked back at them. “I know very little; it was all a client commission. I can share it with you, but keep it classified. Otherwise, if I breach the underworld code, no one will commission me in the future.”

Li Xiao nodded. “Agreed.”

Wei Feng leaned back against his seat in relaxation. He fished out a cigarette, placing it between his fingers to light it, before tossing the pack over. “Have one.”

Just as Li Xiao was about to state that he didn’t smoke, he saw Song Jin smoothly extract a cigarette with one hand, resting it between his lips before lighting it with a lighter morphed by 07.

The fluid motion of lighting the cigarette caused Li Xiao’s gaze to lock. Song Jin’s light blonde hair, sharp and exquisite bone structure, paired with his cold yet arrogant disposition, radiated a striking, brilliant beauty akin to the midday sun. However, this little sun either scorched people to cinders or froze them to death; he had yet to map out where the comfort zone lay.

Given the strict regulations back in the palace, Song Jin had long wanted to try smoking. Seeing his father do it during his childhood had seemed incredibly dashing.

Taking a drag, Song Jin was instantly choked, breaking his composed facade entirely as he leaned against Li Xiao’s shoulder, coughing uncontrollably.

“Cough, cough, cough…”

Li Xiao received a face full of the smoke Song Jin exhaled: “…”

Truly unable to maintain the cool image for more than three seconds.

Li Xiao patted Song Jin’s back, sliding the cigarette from his grip to extinguish it. “What is a child doing smoking?”

Song Jin: “Can you do it?”

Li Xiao: “I can’t, I have no desire to learn, and I am not curious.”

Song Jin: “…” Mocking him again.

Wei Feng watched them while drawing on his cigarette, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

“What are you smiling at?!” Song Jin snapped icily. “Spit out the confession already. Are you waiting for the New Year?”

Wei Feng: “…” Can’t even smoke properly, yet gets defensive.

Wei Feng exhaled a cloud of white vapor. “You witnessed that apparatus yourselves. They supply the feed with long-term nutrients, extract blood from them, and after processing it, distribute it to various planets at astronomical prices.”

At this point, Wei Feng paused slightly before continuing, “The lifespan of the feed is roughly ten years. Once the extracted blood falls below standard thresholds, they are transported to the no-man’s-land to be fed to mutated beasts.”

Li Xiao: “What makes this blood so distinct?”

Wei Feng spread his hands. “It doesn’t need to be unique. The world is vast, and there are all kinds of eccentrics. There happen to be degenerates who relish consuming human blood.”

“Can it prolong lifespan or elevate pheromone grades?” Li Xiao pressed further.

“The greater the gimmick, the higher the price tag. Isn’t that the standard capitalist playbook?” Wei Feng sneered. “To achieve longevity, those wealthy individuals will believe anything.”

Song Jin: “If it’s merely a gimmick, why must they specifically utilize the blood of the Bique Clan?”

Wei Feng looked at Song Jin with a faint smile. “Don’t you two already know quite a bit?”

“Several planets have placed bounties using Bique Clan blood, and those sectors happened to be targeted by the Ravens. We just happened to be present during the Magic Cube incident,” Song Jin stated flatly. “What exactly is the relationship between the Ravens and the Bique Clan?”

“We are star pirates; all actions are dictated by profit.” Wei Feng’s gaze drifted over Li Xiao, adding unhurriedly, “However, I have indeed caught wind of some matters concerning the Bique Clan. I wonder if my two premium clients are interested?”

Li Xiao: “The money has already been spent. Even if we weren’t interested, what choice do we have? We can only brace ourselves and listen.”

Wei Feng: “…”

Wei Feng extinguished his cigarette after only two drags. “From a very, very long time ago, the Bique Clan has been prone to drawing misfortune. Legend dictates that over a century ago, an alliance of other factions launched an assault against them, precipitating a catastrophic rebellion across the Bique Clan’s territory.

From that point, the Bique Clan fractured into two factions. The young and able-bodied cut an extraction path through the siege, while the frail, elderly, and children were shielded deep in the rear. That conflict persisted for over a decade.”

Recalling the records he had reviewed previously, Song Jin asked, “Those who cut their way out never returned?”

Wei Feng shook his head. “They possessed too many enemies to risk returning, so they established roots elsewhere. Meanwhile, the factions back in their homeland were thoroughly intimidated by the thrashing and didn’t dare cross lines again, establishing a temporary peace.”

Li Xiao: “Temporary?”

“They are a faction prone to drawing trouble, after all,” Wei Feng stated with some resignation. “Not long after the exiled faction stabilized, they provoked even more adversaries. Massive numbers of clansmen were slaughtered, and the internecine conflict has persisted to this day.”

Li Xiao’s brow knit slightly. “Who is the adversary?”

“That, I do not know.” Wei Feng looked toward Song Jin. “You asked why they must use Bique Clan blood. Because their commercialization of this blood is, in essence, a declaration of war against the Bique Clan—an outlet for their hatred. Substituting any other blood would render it meaningless.”

Without knowledge regarding the existence of modified humans, Wei Feng’s explanation sounded perfectly coherent. However, Bique Clan blood was indeed “special” because it served as the critical catalyst for modified humans. Was Wei Feng truly oblivious to the modified humans, or was he intentionally withholding related intelligence?

Song Jin sneered. “Incurring such massive overhead to construct a feed facility and cultivate specimens simply to use that blood to incite a conflict? Wouldn’t directly abducting a couple of Bique Clan members for extraction be far easier?”

Wei Feng chuckled softly. “Why do you assume they haven’t abducted any? How else do you think the feed originated?”

“Since they already hold Bique Clan members in their grasp, why go through such extensive lengths to orchestrate this setup?” Li Xiao picked up the thread. “With that capital, wouldn’t procuring more military armaments be far more practical?”

“They likely recouped their initial investment long ago by distributing the blood.” Wei Feng rose, lowering his eyes to look at Li Xiao expressionlessly. “I am not them; I cannot comprehend their methodology. This is the extent of what I know.”

Li Xiao raised his gaze, staring directly into Wei Feng’s cold eyes. “Are you truly entirely oblivious to ‘them’?”

Wei Feng: “Aren’t you a prince? When you find the leisure, go dig through the royal archives. Perhaps you’ll uncover more than by interrogating me.”

Li Xiao countered subtly, “The royal archives don’t record these minor skirmishes.”

“Then there’s no helping it.” The corners of Wei Feng’s lips curled upward. “I cannot satisfy the entirety of your curiosity.”

Noting that Li Xiao and Song Jin were lost in thought, Wei Feng spoke again: “Finished with the questions? Then it’s my turn. You backed up the base data, didn’t you? I provided you with this much intelligence; in exchange, grant me a copy of that data.”

Li Xiao: “Who is your client?”

Wei Feng was amused to the point of exasperation. “I do have professional boundaries.”

After a few more rounds of testing, seeing that Wei Feng refused to budge under any circumstance, Li Xiao could only let the matter rest, directing 09 to transmit the backed-up data into the starship’s core system.

It wasn’t ideal for Li Xiao and Song Jin to remain aboard the Ravens’ vessel for long. Upon receiving a transmission from Jiang Chi, the two prepared to depart.

Seeing that the docking vessel belonged to the Snow Leopards, Wei Feng’s expression turned nuanced. Hu Jiang wore a sour face: “The Snow Leopards again. Every single time, they follow behind us to scoop up the remnants.”

Before departing, Li Xiao stood at the threshold of the gangway, canting his head toward Wei Feng. “Provide me with your primary communication frequency. I may have numerous commissions for you in the future.”

Wei Feng spared him an extra glance, casually fishing a terminal from his pocket to exchange communication frequencies with Li Xiao.

Song Jin looked at Wei Feng, inquiring as if in passing, “Where are you originally from?”

Wei Feng: “I’ve been a drifter since childhood. I have no home planet.”

Song Jin: “What about your parents?”

Wei Feng: “No parents.”

Song Jin: “Any siblings?”

Wei Feng rubbed his chin, teasing, “Are we running a census check here? Intending to introduce a marriage prospect to me?”

“You’re too old.” Leaving those words behind, Song Jin turned and departed without looking back.

Wei Feng: “…”

Once the two departed, Wei Feng turned to Hu Jiang. “Where exactly am I old?”

Hu Jiang: “Not old, just somewhat seasoned.”

Wei Feng: “…” You had better be comforting me.

Aboard the Snow Leopard vessel, Jiang Chi stared at that Raven insignia, nearly questioning reality. Li Xiao directing him to dock with this particular vessel—surely there wasn’t an issue? He couldn’t have misread it, could he?

Jiang Hao was keeping watch at the gangway. Seeing Li Xiao and Song Jin arrive safely, he let out a sigh of relief. “Brother.”

Li Xiao nodded. “How is Dabei’s group holding up?”

Jiang Hao: “Their spirits are flagging, but they haven’t grown suspicious.”

Jiang Chi stepped over. “How did you end up on a Raven vessel?”

“It’s a long story.” Li Xiao walked with them toward the cockpit. “The Danse legions have arrived. Let’s head into Shengya territory first to take cover.”

Song Jin: “I’ve forwarded the coordinates to the helm.”

Jiang Chi rapidly acknowledged. Moving a cohort of distinguished exchange students, he was gambling the lives of every member of the Jiang household; absolutely nothing could go awry at this critical juncture.

Reaching the cockpit, Li Xiao utilized a backup terminal to transmit a message to the previously unfamiliar number.

【What is the current status within the royal court?】

Before long, a response arrived.

【Meng Jian has visited multiple times, implying that organizations aside from the Fierce Tigers participated in the hijacking, aiming to expand the search perimeter and deflect attention. His Majesty concurred.】

Li Xiao transmitted back.

【How has His Majesty been these past two days?】

The other side replied: 【Word is he hasn’t touched a morsel of food since the incident broke out. Even old Liu doesn’t dare remain in the office.】

Li Xiao stared at the line of text, asking Song Jin with confusion, “Tell me—is it possible for someone to simultaneously harbor a desire to kill you, yet display deep anxiety when you encounter misfortune? Isn’t that highly contradictory?”

Song Jin was currently reviewing the backed-up data. Hearing this, he responded without lifting his head, “Contradictory? Perhaps he simply desires to kill you with his own hands.”

Li Xiao: “…” There’s an answer like that?

Seeing Li Xiao fall silent, Song Jin canted his head. Noting the rare look of bewilderment on Li Xiao’s face, he brushed against the silver ring on the tip of his ear, saying casually, “Someone once told me that when you cannot read a person clearly, disregard what they say and focus exclusively on what they do.”

Li Xiao reflected seriously for a moment, only to find the image even more obscured. It still wasn’t enough; there remained countless matters he was oblivious to.

Song Jin inquired unhurriedly, “When will you display this much vexation over me?”

Li Xiao: “Never. You are far too easy to read clearly.”

Song Jin: “…”

The hijacking incident persisted into the following day, approaching the forty-eight-hour mark. Public sentiment across the network intensified, the diplomatic standoff between the two nations escalated, and the atmosphere among the Danse upper echelon grew progressively strained, with military credibility hovering on the precipice of collapse.

Nobles whose children had been hijacked congregated at the military headquarters to pressure them for extraction, and many rushed to the palace to voice their grievances, only to be forcefully ejected from the office by an infuriated Li Ji.

Li Xiao observed the online vitriol directed at the Meng family gradually subside, replaced by sentiments along the lines of “See, the other legions can’t locate them either, it’s not an issue exclusive to the Meng family.” He judged the timing to be ripe.

Tianjiang Star, Military Headquarters.

Yi Yongning sat in his office, listening to his subordinates report on the rescue progress, feeling a sense of anxiety. The development of events by now had transcended the simple matter of rescue; to him, the critical objective was securing administrative jurisdiction over the Tianjiang sector. Once the Meng family secured the initiative, subsequent operations would become difficult to manage.

“I still harbor suspicions that the Meng family orchestrated the move,” a middle-aged Alpha clad in a Major General’s uniform stated from the opposite screen. “They are plotting something obscure, withholding the hostages up to this point.”

Yi Yongning grew pensive. His Majesty had already laid his cards on the table, hoping whoever initiated the move would release the hostages early, utilizing administrative jurisdiction over the Tianjiang sector to preserve Second Prince Li Xiao’s life. If the Meng family had orchestrated it, remaining completely indifferent was improbable. However, it could also be a facade to dispel His Majesty’s suspicions.

While struggling to find a thread, Yi Yongning’s private terminal vibrated. It was Jiang Mu. The message contained no textual content—simply a set of coordinates.

Yi Yongning’s spirits jolted. He bolted upright, instructing the Major General on the screen: “Deploy a small squad to this location immediately. Note! Do not let the Meng family catch wind of this!”

The Alpha Major General was puzzled. “This is?”

Yi Yongning clasped his hands behind his back, suppressing his soaring excitement. “This is the administrative jurisdiction.”

Aboard the Snow Leopard vessel, Song Jin prepared to depart. In roughly an hour, the Yi family forces would arrive to “rescue” the exchange students. His presence as a citizen of Shengya would court complications.

Li Xiao handed over all the tissue samples harvested by 09 to Song Jin, accompanying him to the hangar deck.

“Forward the analysis report to me the moment it surfaces.”

Song Jin: “If you uncover anything during your investigation, forward it to me as well.”

Li Xiao chuckled. “Do we lack even this basic baseline of trust?”

Song Jin let out a cold hum. “Who told you to be so full of fabrications? Not a single word of truth.”

Reaching the transport vehicle, Song Jin slipped his hands into his coat pockets, inquiring unhurriedly, “Why don’t you simply accompany me to Shengya? Danse doesn’t offer much entertainment anyway.”

Li Xiao: “Do you believe I possess the latitude to depart right now?”

“Suit yourself.” Song Jin had simply asked in passing, never expecting him to agree. He turned and stepped onto the gangway, waving his hand backward. “Leaving.”

Li Xiao: “Not even a proper goodbye?”

Song Jin: “Learned it from you.”

Just as his foot met the second step, his right wrist was grasped from behind. Song Jin’s eyes flashed as he canted his head. “What?”

Before analyzing the impulse, Li Xiao had already reached out. But now that Song Jin had turned around, he found himself at a loss for words. Perhaps it was a simple reluctance to part.

Do not cross boundaries, do not become entangled; the current distance is perfect. Li Xiao reminded himself repeatedly in his mind.

Seeing Li Xiao remain silent, Song Jin disengaged his hand. “Rest assured, I won’t monopolize these tissue samples. No need to look so attached.”

Li Xiao collected himself, stating as if nothing had happened, “I promised you before that I would take you to procure a handkerchief you liked.”

The abrupt mention of this caused Song Jin a moment of reflection before it clicked. Back then, Jiang Mu had gifted a handkerchief to Li Xiao, and he had simply sought to tease Li Xiao by snatching it, having long forgotten the matter.

“And so?” Song Jin prompted.

Li Xiao stepped up the gangway, unclasping the silver ring from the tip of his ear to secure it onto Song Jin’s ear. “Let this serve as a substitute instead.”

Song Jin froze, staring at the magnified features before him. “A gift for me?”

Li Xiao: “Didn’t you find it highly appealing?”

Song Jin possessed no expertise regarding Danse ethnic accessories. He had initially assumed such items couldn’t be gifted lightly. However, this piece from Li Xiao didn’t appear exceptionally precious; perhaps it was merely an ordinary trinket?

Li Xiao’s sudden gesture caused Song Jin’s gaze to drift. “What is this supposed to mean—settling accounts? No intentions of meeting me in the future?”

“Do you want it? If not, return it to me.” As he spoke, Li Xiao reached out, only for Song Jin to dodge away.

“It’s already mine.” Song Jin stepped up the remaining stairs, turning back at the hatch to look down at Li Xiao. “An earring is an earring, a handkerchief is a handkerchief. You still owe me. Remember to settle it during our next encounter.”

Li Xiao stepped down the gangway, watching Song Jin enter as the hatch sealed shut, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Our next encounter? Hoping it won’t be too long.

As Li Xiao made his way back, 09, which had been on standby on his terminal bracelet, transformed into fine metallic threads to gather at the tip of his ear, morphing into an identical silver ring.

Noticing this, Li Xiao stated casually, “No need. Remaining on the bracelet suffices.”

09: 【I prefer staying on your ear.】

09’s disposition mirrored Song Jin’s exactly—once an objective was fixed, altering it was difficult. Li Xiao wouldn’t go as far as issuing an executive command over such a minor matter, so he paid it no further heed and let it be.

Contemplating the impending developments, Li Xiao’s mood turned solemn. Regardless of the hurdles, he needed to secure a smooth return to the domain first.

Following a thirty-minute flight, Song Jin returned aboard the Royal Academy’s military cruiser. A cohort of officers had been anxiously awaiting his return, letting out a profound sigh of relief in their hearts.

“Your Highness, what is the next course of action?” an officer stepped forward to inquire.

Song Jin: “Return.”

They couldn’t meddle in the remaining affairs. Given Li Xiao’s strategic maneuvers, managing the situation shouldn’t prove overly difficult.

Dismissing the officers, Song Jin sat down to draft the after-action report. Having barely penned the introduction, he couldn’t resist tracing the silver ring secured to the tip of his ear, Li Xiao’s intense gaze flashing unbidden across his mind.

07: 【Master, your heart rate is accelerating.】

Song Jin: “…”