Chapter 64: A Livestream Accident part 1
Zong Hao remained silent for a long while after hearing Ning Yunyi’s words. He kept his eyes lowered, his beastly pupils veiling the storm of emotions swirling within.
He couldn’t quite describe what he was feeling. A complex, suffocating wave of emotion surged up, leaving his mind in a chaotic mess.
He didn’t know if he was aching for Ning Yunyi’s loss of his beloved, or if he was pitying little Xiaomiao for being fatherless at such a young age—likely having never even seen his biological father’s face.
Even more so, he hadn’t expected that the first thing he did after being saved and healed by Ning Yunyi was to strike him where it hurt most.
He had thought his recovery and the regaining of his form was a good thing, but in Ning Yunyi’s eyes, it was merely a cruel reminder of his most painful past. His paw twitched slightly before finally coming to rest on Ning Yunyi’s knee.
Ning Yunyi raised an eyebrow at the sight. No way? He’s still going to persist after that?
Fortunately, Zong Hao quickly tapped out a string of text.
[Zong: I understand what you mean now. I’m sorry for making you sad.]
Ning Yunyi breathed a sigh of relief, but a pang of guilt followed. Did I take it too far? However, if he didn’t bluff like this, there was a real risk that Zong Hao would discover the truth and fight him for Xiaomiao. But simply driving the man away would not only make Zong Hao suspicious but would also break the little cub’s heart.
Since returning from the trash planet, the Big Cat had been the little guy’s only playmate. Although Ning Yunyi was the most important person in the cub’s heart and the boy was obedient, being forced to suddenly sever ties with a beloved companion would be too cruel.
As it stood, this was the best possible situation.
As long as Zong Hao believed the lie, there was no need to stop him from seeing the little guy. After all… after hearing such a story, Zong Hao wouldn’t possibly suspect that the cub was his own child, right?
Furthermore, through their time together, Ning Yunyi had come to understand Zong Hao’s character well. When it came to private matters, the man was tight-lipped. Even if someone else noticed something was off, Zong Hao would likely be the first to deny it.
To make it up to the Big Cat, Ning Yunyi didn’t drive him away that night, allowing him to sleep in his original room.
The next morning, after breakfast, Ning Yunyi shared his plan with Zong Hao. He needed Ichi’s cooperation to deliver the six portions of food destined for fans outside the Capital Star.
Ning Yunyi guessed that as soon as he announced the giveaway on his livestream, the Crown Prince would immediately set out to track the ten winners.
Naturally, the Prince’s first targets would be the four on the Capital Star. They were the closest, within easy reach of his power. He might even bribe one or two of them, hoping to station guards nearby and trace the delivery back to the chef’s identity.
However, Ning Yunyi had intentionally stated in the livestream that there was no time limit for the delivery.
He planned to strike unexpectedly. First, he would use Invisibility Talismans to deliver the six off-planet portions to specific locations on those planets, then send messages informing the winners of the coordinates to collect them.
In this way, no matter how much power or how many men the Crown Prince had, it was impossible for him to investigate every person on those distant planets.
Ning Yunyi sealed the six portions in specialized food boxes, applied Invisibility Talismans, and handed them to Ichi for personal delivery.
Fortunately, these high-tech food boxes could not only maintain heat but also preserve the food in its freshly-served state for up to three days. Three days was more than enough for Ichi to deliver the six portions to the designated locations on the various planets.
As for the remaining four, Ning Yunyi applied an Invisibility Talisman to himself and personally delivered them to storage lockers nearest to the four fans on the Capital Star.
Three days later, Ning Yunyi sent the location coordinates to all ten fans simultaneously, telling them to pick up their food boxes.
Nine of the ten fans replied immediately, heading out to collect their prizes. Only one on the Capital Star sat staring at the message, trembling and completely overwhelmed. He looked up uneasily at the adjutant standing beside the Crown Prince. “M-my Lord, Mr. Zong just sent me a private message… telling me to go to the storage locker at the entrance to pick up… the Potato and Beef Brisket I won.”
As he spoke the words “Potato and Beef Brisket,” he couldn’t help but swallow a mouthful of saliva, terrified he might start drooling.
After all, he had been craving the streamer’s food for a long time. He had thought he was just unlucky since he never managed to grab the taste data even once, but his luck had turned around, and he had miraculously become one of the ten winners. However, before he could even celebrate, the Crown Prince’s men had shown up at his door. They used his job and his family to pressure him into giving up his prize. He didn’t want to give it up at all, but he didn’t dare cross the Crown Prince, so he had to agree.
Agreeing was one thing, but being under strict surveillance was another. He was actually quite worried that the streamer had offended the Crown Prince; otherwise, why would they go to such lengths for a single prize? It was obvious they were monitoring him to track down the streamer’s whereabouts. He had been genuinely concerned that the streamer would be caught red-handed during the delivery.
Seeing that it was just a set of coordinates—and not even at his own house—he felt relieved.
The adjutant frowned, his expression changing sharply. They had assumed the chef would need the fans’ addresses, thinking that freshly made and delivered food would be more thoughtful. Who knew this person wouldn’t play by the rules? He had gone as far as buying expensive high-tech containers that could maintain perfection for three days.
How were they supposed to track that? The items could have been placed there three days ago for all they knew.
Sure enough, when the adjutant led his men to the coordinates, they found it was a surveillance blind spot. There was no way to tell when the square food box had appeared. The box required a special code to open.
The adjutant demanded the code from the fan, then contacted his subordinates stationed around the other nine fans with a heavy heart.
The result was the same.
They had staked out the locations, but it had all been for nothing.
All ten portions had arrived simultaneously. They couldn’t even determine when they had been dropped off. The chef was exceptionally good at picking locations—every single one was a blind spot. it was as if this “Sect’s First Blade” had the entire interstellar surveillance network mapped out perfectly, even bypassing official private networks.
The adjutant was trembling with fear when he returned to the palace. He placed the food box before the Crown Prince and knelt, not daring to lift his head, terrified the Prince would simply execute him on the spot.
The Crown Prince stared at the hermetically sealed food box without a word. His expression didn’t even flicker.
After a long silence, he suddenly laughed. But the laugh sent a shiver down the adjutant’s spine, and his head bowed even lower.
The Crown Prince raised his hand, his palm stroking the cold shell of the box. “Do you know how I feel right now? It’s been many years since I’ve been this provoked. This is truly a rarity.”
The last time he felt this way was when he heard it from his “dear Father’s” own mouth—that the person the Emperor loved most in this life was actually the Second Prince, the one who only had a formal status because he had borrowed the belly of the Crown Prince’s own mother. Ha, how ironic. He, the so-called Crown Prince, was nothing more than a shield for the Second Prince.
Since the Emperor never intended to give him the throne, he would simply take it. He would send the father and son to reunite in the underworld.
What a pity that the old man was so resilient. Why hadn’t the explosion killed his “dear Father” right then and there?
He hadn’t expected that after so long, he would want to kill someone this badly again. “Go. Take this food box to Zong Ling. Tell him that whether he can use this hype to gain favor or build a relationship with ‘Sect’s First Blade’ depends on his own ability. If he screws up again, he won’t be the only candidate for little Lyman’s adoptive father.”
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thank you for the chapter!