Chapter 38: No Sense of Seniority—Who Allowed You to Follow the Others… part 1
Xie Ren closed the door of his resting cabin, entering a private space where filming was allowed, and only then made a video call.
The moment the connection was established, his heart suddenly felt moist.
Yu Shi had just showered and was leaning against the headboard in his pajamas. His expression was lazy and casual, and his hair ends were damp, as if the scent of his hair could be smelled through the screen.
The pajama fabric was fine white silk, making his skin look like milk. Two buttons at the collar were undone, revealing his exquisite, slender collarbones.
He was nestled between the air-conditioning quilt and the pillow, like a small sprout emerging from the middle.
Xie Ren swallowed, his face turning red uncontrollably.
It seemed that every time he saw Yu Shi dressed like this, he would feel uneasy all over. In their previous face-to-face contact, he could perhaps blame it on pheromones. But now they were separated by several light-years; no matter how powerful the pheromones were, it was impossible to affect him through a network cable.
While Xie Ren silently reminded himself to respect his teacher, his gaze drifted, not daring to look directly. Fortunately, the light on his side was dim, so Yu Shi didn’t notice anything unusual.
“Did you bring your graduation design with you?” Yu Shi asked.
Graduation design?
Oh. Xie Ren only then remembered he was here to ask questions.
“I… I brought it. My schedule is tight, so I can only work on it as I go.” He spoke vaguely.
He then symbolically asked a few questions. Yu Shi answered them in detail. Xie Ren originally thought he would hang up to continue writing, but to his surprise, Xie Ren showed no intention of hanging up at all and started rambling about anything and everything.
He asked what Yu Shi did today, if it rained in the First Zone, if the roads were congested while driving, if that idiot Han Po caused any more trouble…
Yu Shi had the illusion of being interrogated and answered each question with a strange look.
Only after a long time did he realize Xie Ren was just making small talk.
He suddenly remembered that when he went to see them off today, there were many parents at the station, yet he hadn’t seen Xie Ren’s parents. Even Li Yang had never seen his parents.
Xie Ren’s emergency contact was listed as his cousin, and no one ever attended the parent-teacher meetings.
From Li Yang’s words, it wasn’t hard to deduce that he was distant from his parents and was from a single-parent family.
Yu Shi leaned against the goose-down pillow. Perhaps he was a bit tired, as his words were slightly over the line. “Xie Ren, do you still live with your parents?”
On the screen, Xie Ren clearly froze for a few seconds before replying, “We don’t live together. I’ve attended boarding schools since I was a child.”
“Then… would they be worried?”
“Probably… not.”
Xie Ren was silent for a moment and said, “My dad thinks an Alpha must be independent. After I turned five, he didn’t allow me to cry or act out. Except for being afraid I’d lose my life, he never cared about my daily life. He’s a person with extreme views, believing every industry is about ‘survival of the fittest,’ and he often uses unscrupulous means to achieve his goals.”
He said gloomily, “My name was given to me by him. He once had hot blood too, believing a nation’s dignity is built only on the ‘edge of a blade’ (ren). He hoped I would grow up to be the ‘Blade of National Defense.'”
Although he was extremely disappointed in Xie Chengfeng, when mentioning him, he still remembered his childhood admiration for his father.
Yu Shi perceived this and said gently, “You’ve certainly achieved that now.”
“But he changed. He became blinded by greed, selfish, and no longer the goal I looked up to in my childhood.” A dullness flashed in Xie Ren’s eyes.
Yu Shi thought for a moment and said, “Human nature is constantly changing. Only a few people are not influenced by the environment. Regardless of what others are like, as long as you anchor yourself to your initial goal like a starship, you won’t get lost in your voyage.”
Xie Ren asked him, “What about you? What is your goal?”
Yu Shi was quiet for a while. “I hope… that everything can show its truest side to everyone.”
The words were naive and nonsensical. For some reason, Xie Ren felt his gaze was a bit sorrowful.
“Is Instructor Yu troubled by something?” He wanted to reach through the screen and touch him.
Yu Shi said, “Everyone in the world has troubles.”
Xie Ren rested his chin on his hand. “Have you read an article? It was written by an ancient Earth man of letters, what was it called…”
“I don’t read much literature.”
“I’ll tell it to you. In the article, he hypothesized the existence of an ‘absolutely lucky’ person whose life had no regrets. Looks, family background, career, love, health—all were maxed out. At first, his life was smooth sailing: good grades in school, meeting his ideal partner, a stable job after graduation, and both sets of parents fully approving…”
“But then the problem came. In a life as smooth as a straight line, the protagonist couldn’t feel happiness at all. Because there was no contrast—without darkness, one doesn’t know what light is; without pain, one doesn’t know what joy is. His life had no process, only hollow and incomplete experiences…”
He saw Yu Shi’s eyelids droop and gradually softened his voice.
“We cannot talk about ‘death’; we talk about ‘death’ through ‘life.'”
“We cannot talk about ‘truth’; we talk about ‘truth’ through ‘falsehood.'”
“The truth you want will definitely be realized, Instructor Yu.”
Yu Shi closed his eyes and let out a blurred “Mhm” as if responding to his words.
Those rosy lips moved slightly. His whole face sank into the soft pillow, slowly magnifying on the screen until he was close enough that his breathing could be heard.
Xie Ren held his breath, his fingertips tracing over Yu Shi’s brow and eyes.
Sleeping Yu Shi was very well-behaved, giving off the feeling of a doll that could be manipulated at will. Through the cool screen, his palm became increasingly hot.
His pupils slightly lost focus. He uncontrollably moved closer to those two petal-like lips.
Yu Shi suddenly murmured, “Hurry up and write…”
Xie Ren suddenly snapped awake, shocked by the momentary loss of control. A wild thumping came from his chest.
After a long while, he moved the screen to the bedside. Outside the window was the scene of the giant star outburst, bright as day. It was said it would last for several days. He pressed his light-brain with his other hand and took a photo of the two images together.
At this moment, it felt as if a supernova had also exploded in his heart, bursting with a dazzling light like snowflakes, so bright it made one dizzy.
“I’m taking you to see a rare sight, Teacher Little Fish,” he said softly.
Then he placed the communicator by his pillow, closed his eyes with a smile, and fell asleep.
Yu Shi slept very soundly this time, entering deep sleep. His bed at home was soft and cozy, and he barely dreamed.
When he woke up, the communicator had automatically shut down because it ran out of power.
He patted his head, unable to remember what happened last night. He seemed to have fallen asleep while chatting with Xie Ren. What were they talking about at the end? Something related to his family?
Yu Shi got up to go to school. At noon, he saw a picture Xie Ren had sent—it was a photo of him sleeping. Outside the warship, a giant star was erupting, as brilliant as daytime fireworks.
[Xie Ren: Taking you to see it for free. No need to thank me.]
Yu Shi typed while lining up for food: [So ugly. Can you delete it?]
The other side was likely busy, only replying when he was almost finished eating.
[Xie Ren: Where is it ugly? Is there something wrong with your eyes??]
[Yu Shi: …]
[Yu Shi: You caught the warship in the shot. Won’t that be classified?]
[Xie Ren: No. Every message I send out can be seen by surveillance.]
[Yu Shi: Ah, then this photo too…!]
[Xie Ren: I went to the monitoring room and deleted it right after sending.]
Yu Shi burst out laughing.
How childish. Does he really think that’s cool?
Secret photos, “checking in” at sights, and deleting surveillance—it seemed the voyage was indeed boring, boring enough to do things like this.
Li Yang said in confusion, “You’ve been sending messages since we got off work, and you’re smiling at your communicator. Is there ‘a situation’? Did a blind date work out?”
Part 2
“No,” Yu Shi resumed his cold expression. “Just replying to a student’s message.”
“Replying to which student could make you smile? I get annoyed just seeing those brats. Who can smile while working?” Li Yang was dumbfounded.
“I’ve seen that expression of yours plenty of times in class. When those boys message their partners, they all look like that. I may not have ‘eaten pork,’ but I’ve seen ‘pigs run’—don’t you dare try to hide it from me!”
Yu Shi: “Oh.”
He picked up his tray and strode away.
“Oh? You just say ‘oh’? Wait, I’m not done asking!”
Over the next few days, Xie Ren video-called him every night. At first, he would still pretend to ask about topics, but later he simply stopped acting and said longingly, “Instructor Yu, I want to see you,” “I’m so tired today, I want to talk to you,” “Nothing to do during the voyage, can we chat for a bit?”
Yu Shi was a person who was not good at refusing students; he would half-willingly answer every time.
He didn’t know why, but after chatting for a bit in the evening, he would get sleepy. Due to frequent overtime before, his sleep had always been poor, and he would occasionally wake up from dreams. Ever since he started voice-calling Xie Ren while sleeping and listening to his voice to fall asleep, he never had nightmares again.
From being passive and helpless at first to later accepting it naturally, it only took him a week.
Every morning, Xie Ren would send a photo of him sleeping. The background ranged from the Milky Way starry sky to the bustling Lona City, the capital of the Seventh Zone. In every one, he was sleeping soundly.
Yu Shi first ordered him to delete them, then scolded him for having a twisted sense of humor, and finally stopped caring and let him be.
During the day, Xie Ren was usually busy, occasionally sending him messages to remind him not to forget to eat on time.
After just one week, Yu Shi had become somewhat accustomed to his messages. That was until one time when Xie Ren disappeared for an entire day and didn’t even video-call that night.
Yu Shi returned to the dormitory after working overtime, vaguely sensing something was wrong. He immediately made a call, but it showed no one was answering.
He was supposed to guide Ye Bingyang’s thesis tonight, but suddenly he wasn’t in the mood. He stood up and paced around the room.
While the Falcon Regiment was on a mission, no messages would be leaked. He couldn’t even find anyone to ask.
Only after eleven o’clock did a prompt pop up on the screen.
[Xie Ren: Sleeping yet, Instructor Yu?]
Yu Shi frowned and typed to ask: [Are you okay…]
He deleted it halfway through, pondering in his heart whether this kind of question could even be asked. After all, leaking security information was also considered a breach of secrecy.
The communicator suddenly vibrated; the other side made a voice call.
“Hello,” Xie Ren’s voice was dry, yet it sounded like he was smiling. “I see you’re typing. Still not asleep at this hour—you wouldn’t be waiting for my call, would you?”
Hearing his roguish tone, Yu Shi’s heart instantly settled. He said, “I’m not waiting for you. I’m waiting for Ye Bingyang’s connection.”
“It’s so late. Why is he still calling you? How annoying,” Xie Ren asked unhappily.
Yu Shi laughed in spite of himself. “Don’t you annoy me every day too?”
“Instructor Yu thinks I’m annoying?” The voice on the other side dropped. “I’m just looking for you to chat. If you find me annoying…”
Yu Shi heard him being melodramatic but didn’t expose him, intentionally asking, “What will you do? Never harass me again?”
“In your dreams,” Xie Ren said through gritted teeth. “You’re too heartless, actually being able to say that. Don’t worry, I’ll harass you forever.”
Yu Shi laughed. His voice was on the cold side, but when he laughed, it was very pleasant, like mountain stream water flowing—bubbling and gurgling. It made one’s heart itch.
Xie Ren couldn’t help but laugh along, then suddenly let out a muffled groan.
“What’s wrong?” Yu Shi asked.
“Nothing. Kicked the corner of the table.”
Xie Ren was bare-chested. A military doctor was treating a wound on his shoulder. There was a large-area burn there; the blood on the wound had already coagulated, and the flesh was stuck together. They had to debride it before applying healing agent.
The medicinal liquid soaked the wound, producing irritating bubbles. Blood and flesh were mixed together.
His temples were soaked with sweat, and his sharp eyebrows were tightly knitted together. He didn’t make another sound.
Sun Xiaoyun typed on the screen: [Meeting in the conference room in half an hour.]
Xie Ren nodded expressionlessly. She wrote again: [Those sons of bitches really have no bottom line, even using incendiary bombs banned in space. If you hadn’t blocked it for me…]
Xie Ren waved her hand away and typed with one hand: [I recover quickly. I’ll be fine in two days. Don’t think too much.]
Sun Xiaoyun could only say: [Thanks. But there’s bad news. It seems Boss Nie told your dad.]
The Falcon Regiment had three squads in total, with each squad having one commander and two lieutenants. Nie Qing was the head of all commanders. In terms of status, he was on par with Xie Chengfeng. The two had been comrades in their youth.
Xie Ren was instantly annoyed. Sun Xiaoyun said softly, “Look at the group chat.”
He used his left hand to open the combat readiness group and browsed the message Nie Qing had just sent. He said they had already found the transport line for the androids and were holding an emergency meeting tonight to discuss the raid plan.
Military doctor Luo Yangyang quickly finished the bandaging and stepped out with Sun Xiaoyun. Before closing the door, he heard Xie Ren say almost tenderly, “The construction of Lona City isn’t great, but the desserts are quite good. I’ll bring some back for you. I might not be able to guarantee they’ll stay original…”
Luo Yangyang asked in a low voice, “Is he on the phone with an Omega? I’m stunned. Is this still the Ah Ren I know? Should our team find an expert to take a look?”
Sun Xiaoyun also spoke in a low voice: “Do you know what’s even more ghostly? He’s on the phone with his teacher.”
“Holy crap, a teacher-student romance? So exciting. Capital people really know how to play.” His jaw dropped. “Wait, I remember the National Defense Academy has no Omega teachers. Could it be one of those ‘dispatched workers’ from the Third Academy?”
The two looked at each other and simultaneously began rummaging through their address books, asking their connections in the Third Academy about this earth-shattering gossip.
On the other end of the phone, Yu Shi said, “I thought I heard someone over there calling you ‘Ah Ren’ just now. Do your family and friends usually call you that?”
“Most of them call me that. If you want to, you can too. What about Instructor Yu? What does your family call you?” Xie Ren sat by the window. His shoulder was burning like fire, yet he seemed unable to feel the pain, a smile on his lips.
“They call me… cough, Xiao Shi,” Yu Shi said unnaturally.
“Xiao Shi.” Xie Ren repeated it once, his smile gradually widening.
So just a light touch of the upper and lower teeth could produce such a soft nickname. Xiao Shi, Xiao Shi…
Thinking of Yu Shi being called that while having a cold face, he couldn’t help but smile until his eyes crinkled.
“Student Xiao Shi,” he called out again.
Yu Shi scolded lightly, “No sense of seniority. Who allowed you to follow the others?”
“Sorry, sorry,” Xie Ren apologized solemnly.
A moment later, he said with a laugh again, “Xiao Shi, oh, Xiao Shi—”
Yu Shi’s ears felt itchy from his teasing. The Alpha’s voice was as if it contained an electric current, making his eardrums feel tingly and numb.
“Don’t you have a meeting? Go quickly. I’m going to sleep.” He hung up with feigned impatience.
Xie Ren licked his lips and casually typed with a smile: [Sweet dreams, Xiao Shi.]
He sent it too quickly, not noticing he was still in the combat readiness group. After sending it, he tossed the communicator aside, put on his jacket, and headed to the meeting.
A few minutes later, he walked into the conference room. Nie Qing and the other commanders were sitting inside.
Hearing the door open, everyone turned their heads to look at him in unison. Their expressions were all full of meaning, and some were turning red from holding back laughter.
Xie Ren felt it was inexplicable. He pulled out a chair and sat down boldly. “Everyone’s here. Let’s start early.”
Nie Qing glared at him seriously and reproached, “Don’t post unrelated things in the group next time.”
Hearing this, Xie Ren was stunned. He immediately opened StarChat, only then discovering he had accidentally sent that sentence to the group.
A long string of “tails” followed below.
[Nanny Luo Yangyang: Sweet dreams, Xiao Shi~]
[Sun Xiaoyun: Sweet dreams, Xiao Shi~]
[Song Zhaohui: Sweet dreams, Xiao Shi~]
[Tao Mingwan: Sweet dreams, Xiao Shi~]
…
Xie Ren: …
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