Recap
The boy’s name, uttered in the dream, remained elusive. But a few syllables echoed in his mind.
A terrifying thought took root.
“Do you know Akasa Mo?” he asked, his voice tight.
Long Shiyu froze. “No,” he replied, his expression innocent. “Why would you ask that?”
“Just a dream. I dreamt I went back in time. There was a castle, a wedding, and a dragon who tried to steal the bride.”
“Oh.” Long Shiyu’s nervousness was palpable. “What else did you dream?”
Shen Chaomu hesitated, then said, “Just some random things. Nothing special.”
“I forgot everything else. I only remembered your name.”
They reached the aircraft, the dim light illuminating their faces. Beyond lay the dry plains, the forest a dark smudge in the distance. Soon, the sun would rise, bringing its scorching heat, revealing the secrets hidden within the sand and glinting off the vibrant leaves.
Cassandra and Bei En would awaken to a new day, their streets bustling, the sea churning, the waterfall roaring. Challenges remained, but the future held promise.
In that vivid dream, he had forgotten the competition for chief, the association, the family mission. Only when he saw the wildflowers had he remembered Long Shiyu.
Remembered that Long Shiyu would love those flowers.
“What’s wrong?” Long Shiyu asked, noticing his hesitation.
“Long Shiyu,” Shen Chaomu said, his voice low and steady, “I like you.”
The sun beat down on the Western Hemisphere, the temperature rising rapidly. Without insulated boots, the scorching sand would be unbearable.
Cacti dotted the landscape, their forms stark against the swirling sand and dust rising in the distance. The ground trembled, and those with heightened senses could hear the labored breathing of approaching creatures.
“Hurry!” Song Qianqian barked, directing the hunters. “Load the shells! Prepare the ballista!”
Heavy artillery lined the sand, their wide bases preventing them from sinking. The automatic loaders whirred, straining to keep up. Song Qianqian checked her sniper rifle, loaded with explosive rounds. These devastating projectiles, unsuitable for urban combat, were ideal for this open terrain. She felt a familiar thrill, the anticipation of a perfect shot.
Aircraft roared overhead, reaching the monster horde and unleashing a barrage of missiles. Sand and debris erupted, accompanied by the enraged roars of the creatures. The aircraft couldn’t linger; a swarm of desert flying snakes descended, their scales the color of sand, their cobra-like hoods flared.
These creatures were a traveler’s nightmare, capable of conjuring sandstorms. The aircraft unleashed another volley, tearing through the flying snakes, but more rose to take their place. The sandstorm, infused with the strange beasts’ spiritual energy, disrupted radar and visibility, rendering the aircraft vulnerable.
“Fire!” Song Qianqian yelled, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
Heavy ballista bolts tore through the air, followed by a crisscrossing network of laser fire. The flying snakes ignited, their burning flesh releasing a noxious stench. The attack weakened the frenzy, but as the hunters reloaded and prepared to advance, a cry rang out.
“Someone’s approaching!”
Song Qianqian saw a lone vehicle racing toward the horde.
“Which team is that?” the commander roared. “Why are they advancing alone?”
“I’ll try to cover them,” Song Qianqian said, grabbing her sniper rifle and a rocket launcher. “But the distance and the sandstorm…”
“That’s…Shen Chaomu,” someone said, their voice hesitant.
Silence fell over the group. Then, they resumed their preparations, a silent understanding passing between them.
Inside the off-road vehicle, Long Shiyu pressed the accelerator. “Is this speed okay?”
“It’s fine,” Shen Chaomu replied. “But we can go faster.”
Long Shiyu slammed the pedal down, the vehicle hurtling toward the monster horde. They remained calm, their expressions unfazed by the chaos and the approaching beasts.
Golden light flakes erupted, forming a deadly net that ensnared the monsters. They roared, their eyes filled with a mindless rage, but they couldn’t escape. Long Shiyu expertly navigated the vehicle, weaving through the horde, providing Shen Chaomu with a clear path for his devastating attacks.
The sandstorm raged, the world a blur of darkness illuminated only by Shen Chaomu’s golden power.
“Another shiny thing,” Long Shiyu remarked.
“I’ve never seen this color of spiritual power before,” Shen Chaomu mused. “It’s similar to your eyes.”
“Oh.” Long Shiyu swallowed nervously, his hidden tail twitching. This was important.
Shen Chaomu, sensing his discomfort, didn’t press further. Doubts lingered in his mind, but the truth seemed too improbable.
The hunter convoy arrived, their heavy weapons unleashing a barrage of fire. Hunters with lighter weapons darted through the chaos, their agility enhanced by their spiritual powers. They moved with a practiced efficiency, patching their own wounds and returning to the fight.
Twenty minutes later, the frenzy was quelled.
Exhausted, they returned to the defense line. Medics rushed to tend to the wounded.
Long Shiyu and Shen Chaomu retreated to a small tent.
“Here.” Shen Chaomu tossed a bottle of water to Long Shiyu, then settled down to rest. His terminal buzzed with a message from the association, requesting his attention. Qiu Ruowen wanted to speak with him.
She occasionally contacted the team leaders directly, usually with mission updates or strategic discussions. But never before had she sent a special notification.
Shen Chaomu had a bad feeling about this, but he calmly reviewed the mission reports.
Long Shiyu, uncomfortable with the silence, was about to escape into his card game when Shen Chaomu spoke.
“Why won’t you answer me?” he asked.
“It’s just…like I said,” Long Shiyu mumbled, guilt gnawing at him.
Shen Chaomu lit a cigarette. “You said you had a secret. Why not tell me? I don’t like being strung along. If you don’t reciprocate my feelings, just say so. I won’t hold it against you.”
He was certain Long Shiyu cared for him. The joy in his eyes during the confession had been undeniable.
“No, I do,” Long Shiyu insisted. “I just…” The words caught in his throat.
He knew Shen Chaomu was hunting the Beast King. Their entire relationship was built on a lie. And unlike his other secrets, this one was a betrayal.
He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in Shen Chaomu’s eyes, couldn’t imagine being abandoned. This wasn’t the fairy tale ending he craved.
“After everything we’ve been through,” Shen Chaomu said, his voice low, “I thought you could trust me.”
“Don’t be angry,” Long Shiyu pleaded, his tail wrapping around Shen Chaomu’s ankle. “I’m not trying to be deceitful, but you won’t like this secret.”
“How can I not be angry?” Shen Chaomu flicked ash from his cigarette. “And I have a feeling about your spiritual power…”
His terminal buzzed. Qiu Ruowen’s name flashed on the screen.
“I need to take this,” he said, his gaze lingering on Long Shiyu’s anxious face. “I’ll be back.”
“Okay.” Long Shiyu, unable to help himself, started to chew on his fingers. Shen Chaomu gently pried his hand away.
He stepped outside and found a secluded spot before accepting the call. Qiu Ruowen appeared, her image flickering slightly. She was bandaging a deep gash on her arm, her movements practiced. Shen Chaomu recognized the severity of the wound, the kind that required stitches, the kind not inflicted by ordinary beasts. Bandages covered other injuries as well. He hadn’t seen her this battered in a long time.
“Cerberus,” she explained, seeing his gaze.
“How is it?”
“I managed to injure it,” she replied, her tone grim. “But its regenerative abilities are unknown.” She injected herself with antibiotics and swallowed a couple of pills.
Shen Chaomu waited.
“Are you alone?” she finally asked.
“Yes.”
She nodded: “Then I’ll just say it straight, Shen Chaomu, the association has received several anonymous documents reporting you recently, and the content is that you have private contact with alien beasts. The association already suspected you, after all, by your side, From Cassandra to Bei En, and then to Tabu, there has always been some kind of… subtle abnormal existence.”
Shen Chaomu listened silently.
Qiu Ruowen continued: “All these subtle signs all point to the fact that there are strange beasts around you. If you want, you can read those analysis reports carefully. I believe the reasons are very sufficient. And the report pointed out that this person ‘Shi Yu’ has been using the fake identity you bought on the interstellar black market, and successfully passed all identity checks.”
She displayed a document on her terminal. The interstellar black market was popular with mercenaries and less reputable members of society. Even within the Shen family, some dabbled in its illicit offerings. Long Shiyu’s fake ID had originated there.
“I’m familiar with the black market,” Qiu Ruowen said, her voice sharp. “Buyer information is closely guarded. But our informant managed to decode the buyer’s identity and trace the funds. You were cautious, using multiple transfers and a ‘stranger’s’ account, but you left a trail. You’re an excellent hunter, but not a criminal mastermind.”
Shen Chaomu smiled, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
Qiu Ruowen frowned. “That’s not the reaction of someone caught red-handed. Care to explain?”
“Not particularly,” Shen Chaomu replied. “This is a novel experience. Please continue.”
“Shi Yu’s identity is fake. But he doesn’t match any wanted records. He’s never had a legal identity. And there’s more…”
She displayed several video clips. The footage was grainy, taken from the mercenaries’ perspective during the encounter in Bei En. Despite the poor quality, Shen Chaomu could make out Augusta’s cry as he was launched through the air, followed by a brief glimpse of Long Shiyu, bundled in his winter clothes, waddling into view.
Shen Chaomu’s expression remained neutral, though he remembered that battle vividly. The mercenary’s perspective, coupled with the black market connection, suggested that Shen Di was behind this.
“The other videos are similar,” Qiu Ruowen continued. “Though they don’t capture ‘Shi Yu’ in action, his presence at those events can’t be coincidence. Care to explain?”
“No,” Shen Chaomu replied calmly. “But the situation in Tabu is critical. I request a postponement of any legal proceedings.”
Qiu Ruowen’s eyes narrowed. “The association’s rules don’t bend for anyone,” she said, her voice sharp.
“If I choose to flee, no one can stop me,” Shen Chaomu said flatly. “But you contacted me privately. This isn’t a simple disciplinary matter.”
“Indeed.” Qiu Ruowen’s smile returned, but it held a calculating edge. “Xiao Shen, you’re more cunning than I thought. I’d like to propose a deal. Not as the association chief, but as a supporter of Project High Wind.”
“What kind of deal?”
“Hand over Shi Yu, help us complete Project High Wind, and this matter will disappear. I’ll guarantee your position as chief.”
Shen Chaomu’s gaze hardened. “Who else is involved in this offer?”
“Don’t overthink it. You’ve always been crucial to the plan. We trust your loyalty, but you need to set an example.”
“And if I refuse?”
“The association will take action. Isn’t becoming chief your goal? Completing the plan will bring you fame and fortune, a place in history. What’s wrong with that?”
“Everyone, including me, will be overshadowed by your success,” she continued. “A heroic chief, a true hero, shouldn’t have any blemishes.”
Shen Chaomu lit a cigarette, his expression unreadable.
Qiu Ruowen’s voice softened. “Xiao Shen, youthful indiscretions are understandable. We’ve been lenient. Even now, with the right actions, you’re still our hope. You won’t give up on your pursuit of Akasa Mo so easily.”
“I have a question about the plan,” Shen Chaomu said.
“Go on.”
“Project High Wind aims to place a human on the Beast Throne. Why did its creators assume this was even possible?”
Qiu Ruowen blinked. “It was a reasonable assumption. If you…”
“No. The information is vague. I don’t believe they would invest so much without a solid foundation. Even greed has its limits.”
“What are you suggesting?” Qiu Ruowen frowned. “The plan is viable.”
“The year Project High Wind launched coincides with the appearance of the Nameless King,” Shen Chaomu pointed out. “The transition between the old king and the new must have given them ideas. Perhaps the Nameless King, the one who couldn’t leave a name…was human?”
A flicker of fear crossed Qiu Ruowen’s face, quickly masked.
Shen Chaomu smiled, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “General.”
Qiu Ruowen’s composure returned. “Why does this matter?” she asked, her voice sharp. “Does it help us deal with Akasa Mo?”
“Just curiosity. And I decline your offer.”
“Give me a reason, Shen Chaomu.”
“I’d rather face trial than be alone,” Shen Chaomu replied flatly. “If I hand over Shi Yu, who will I cuddle with at night?”
Qiu Ruowen stared at him, speechless.
“That’s all. Goodbye. I have a frenzy to deal with.” He paused, then added, “I do want to be a hero. Always have. But a hero, not a saint.”
He ended the call and crushed his cigarette under his heel.
Back in the tent, Long Shiyu was engrossed in his card game.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“No one important.” Shen Chaomu sat beside him. “Come here.”
The conversation with Qiu Ruowen had been unsettling, his suspicions about the Nameless King seemingly confirmed. But as Long Shiyu snuggled close, his anxieties eased.
The terminal buzzed insistently, a flood of concerned messages from friends. Qiu Ruowen was true to her word. He didn’t need to read the messages to know the association had disqualified him from the chief candidacy.
He ignored the notifications, turning to Long Shiyu with a gentle smile. “Why did you lose again?” he asked, ruffling his hair. “Need more Happy Beans?”
Long Shiyu hesitated. “Just a little,” he mumbled. “I won’t lose again.”
“That’s what you always say, just like you always say you won’t wander off.” Shen Chaomu’s smile faded. “My intentions are clear. When will you tell me your secret?”
“Aren’t we fine like this?” Long Shiyu asked, his voice small.
“No, I’m not satisfied.” Shen Chaomu’s gaze hardened. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out myself. But when I do, there will be consequences. What happens to a bad dragon who lies?”
Long Shiyu saw a familiar glint in Shen Chaomu’s eyes, the predatory excitement of a hunter. Before he could react, Shen Chaomu pulled him closer, his lips brushing against Long Shiyu’s earlobe.
Long Shiyu froze, his breath catching in his throat. His ears burned, and he pushed Shen Chaomu away, his tail twitching in confusion. “You’re such a hooligan…” he stammered, then abruptly stopped, his voice dying in his throat.
The sensation of Shen Chaomu’s lips lingered, a warmth spreading through him. He was flustered. Shouldn’t it be the princess who blushed after being kissed?
“You owe me a lot,” Shen Chaomu said, a playful smile curving his lips. “Consider this payment for the Happy Beans. And we’re not ‘fine.’ We haven’t even explored the more interesting things, like biting ears.” He leaned closer, his gaze intense.
___
Support the translator: click here.
Update: Saturday and Sunday 9am (+8 GMT)
Leave a Reply