The Federation, Capital Star.
Lately, the Capital Star had become home to a running joke—centered around the once-proud but now beleaguered Ji family.
At this moment, Ji Tingyan sat in his empty study, his face grim as messages from the Star Network flashed across his terminal, all related to the Empire.
The Empire’s young new emperor, the sacred dragon bloodline that had not appeared in years, a powerful S-level combatant…
And his lover, an equally powerful S-level support-class Omega.
Ji Tingyan’s face was as dark as water, his trembling hands betraying his lack of composure.
Two years ago, Ji Mian’s downgrade to B-level had been a heavy blow to the Ji family, whose prestige rested on the glory of “S-level ability users.” But as long as Ji Mian was alive, there was hope for recovery.
At the time, Ji Tingyan had agreed to let Ji Mian leave the Capital Star, believing that Ji Mian wouldn’t last long on his own and would eventually have no choice but to return, humbled and desperate. However, not long after, Ji Mian’s ship had mysteriously crashed, and he had vanished without a trace.
Ji Tingyan had no idea what Ji Mian had gone through during that time. When Ji Mian finally returned, he didn’t bother to ask—thinking it was nothing more than an insignificant episode.
What he hadn’t expected was that Ji Mian would recover his S-level psychic abilities so quickly, and during the engagement banquet… he ran away.
The Suoya family’s accusations and subsequent suppression of the Ji family had dealt yet another devastating blow. Ji Tingyan had already started selling off parts of the Ji family’s assets, desperately trying to scrape together enough funds to cover their losses.
Struggling to make ends meet, Ji Tingyan hadn’t tasted such humiliation in years.
It would be a lie to say he didn’t resent Ji Mian. If Ji Mian hadn’t run away and had obediently married into the Suoya family, the Ji family could have secured even greater support.
What Ji Tingyan couldn’t fathom was how, not only had Ji Mian fully recovered his S-level psychic abilities, but he had also gotten involved with another powerful S-level combatant—the Empire’s new emperor!
When had this even happened?!
That Chu Shiye seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Ji Tingyan had never heard of such a powerful figure before. How had Ji Mian come to know him?
Ji Tingyan couldn’t wrap his head around it, running his fingers irritably through his hair, pulling at it in frustration.
What would Ji Mian do now that he was back in a position of power? Would he retaliate against the Ji family?
Still, Ji Tingyan reasoned, Ji Mian was far away in the Empire. Thinking he could use the still-unsteady new emperor to suppress the Ji family was wishful thinking.
What terrified him more was the potential reaction of Federation Prime Minister Charles.
Two years ago, when Ji Mian was still S-level, Charles had shown great interest in him.
And now… Ji Mian had not only recovered his S-level status but had also, alongside the Empire’s new emperor, killed Dorn—the most powerful psychic user in the Empire, who had been plotting rebellion.
A psychic ability user—rare and extraordinarily unique. An S-level psychic ability user signified that there was no one in the interstellar realm capable of countering Dorn.
Even though S-level combatants and support-class users were also incredibly strong, for two non-psychic S-levels to defeat Dorn was previously thought to be an impossibility—a notion universally accepted by both the Empire and the Federation.
And yet, two people had managed to achieve it.
They were so young, with limitless potential ahead of them.
Ji Tingyan even suspected that Ji Mian… had been growing stronger all along, perhaps even stronger than he was two years ago.
What he could imagine, others surely could too.
Suddenly, his communicator rang. The name displayed on the screen made Ji Tingyan’s eyelid twitch violently.
It was the secretary of Prime Minister Charles—his spokesperson.
Ji Tingyan’s hand trembled uncontrollably as he pressed the answer button.
The screen expanded, but no holographic image appeared; it was a voice-only communication.
“Prime Minister Charles has one question for you,” the voice said.
“Why did you expel your son from the family?”
Beep.
The communication was abruptly ended from the other side.
Ji Tingyan’s face instantly turned as white as paper.
This wasn’t just a simple message—it was a warning.
Charles was blaming the Ji family for driving away a powerful, ever-growing S-level support-class Omega.
They had pushed him out of the family, forcing him to leave the Federation and seek refuge in the Empire.
If this continued, the Ji family…
Ji Tingyan suddenly sprang to his feet. “Someone, come here!”
“Throw Liu Jing out of this house!” he roared, veins bulging on his forehead, completely devoid of his usual calm and dignity. “She’s not allowed to take any jewelry, only her personal clothes. Send her to the Sixth Star System, to the most remote planet there!”
Hurried footsteps echoed as the servants carried out his orders. Soon, a woman’s shrill screams pierced the air.
“What are you doing?! I’m the Ji family’s wife! His wife!”
“Get off me! Don’t touch me!”
Outside the study, Ji Cheng banged on the door in terror. “Dad! What are you doing? Why are you throwing Mom out?”
The chaos outside seemed unrelated to Ji Tingyan.
He clutched a photo frame tightly, his eyes fixated on the person inside.
“Did you… know this day would come all along?”
The woman in the frame couldn’t hear Ji Tingyan’s words, only smiled at him gently.
Ji Tingyan slumped into his chair, defeated.
He regretted it.
Truly, deeply regretted it.
The Empire’s Palace.
The palace was bustling with activity.
Although the coronation ceremony was three months away, preparations were already in full swing—including the crafting of the coronation robes.
In the interstellar era, clothing was usually created with advanced electronic technology, but the emperor’s coronation robes were still handmade, with even the smallest detail carefully crafted.
The palace’s dedicated tailor had come to measure Chu Shiye. “Your Majesty, what color do you prefer?”
Chu Shiye: “Black.”
He had asked Ji Mian, and Ji Mian thought he looked good in black.
The tailor: “Yes, sir. Then…”
The tailor asked a few more questions, which Chu Shiye wanted to consult Ji Mian about. But when he turned around, Ji Mian, who had been sitting there moments ago, was gone. The palace doors stood open and empty.
Chu Shiye’s heart skipped a beat.
In reality, Ji Mian had only wandered off to the palace garden, curious about the flowers. He had stepped out for less than a minute.
Before Ji Mian could return, hurried footsteps approached. The shadow of a dark-haired young man fell over him like a storm. Without saying a word, Chu Shiye leaned down and pulled Ji Mian into a tight embrace, burying his face in Ji Mian’s shoulder.
A head pressed into the crook of his neck. Ji Mian tilted his head slightly. “Ah Ye?”
Chu Shiye’s voice was low. “Mm.”
Ji Mian stroked his hair. “I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chu Shiye: “…Mm.”
Ji Mian explained what he had been doing.
The palace garden was home to a type of beautiful flower that, due to soil and climate, only bloomed on the Imperial capital star.
Having grown up in the Federation, Ji Mian had rarely seen such flowers before. Their petals were layered in gradients, shifting from soft pastels to brilliant hues, dazzling under the sunlight.
“If you like them, I’ll have more planted,” Chu Shiye said. “We’ll have fresh ones picked every day and placed in vases in our room.”
Ji Mian: “Alright.”
A few seconds later, he poked at Chu Shiye, who was still clinging to him.
Reluctantly, Chu Shiye loosened his grip, inch by inch.
Inside the palace, the tailor and attendants kept their eyes respectfully lowered, silently continuing their work as if they had seen nothing.
The tailor finished measuring Chu Shiye and moved on to Ji Mian.
But Chu Shiye refused to let anyone else touch his Ji Mian.
Taking the tailor’s measuring tools, he said, “I’ll do it.”
The tailor and the attendants were already accustomed to this dynamic and said nothing.
The new emperor was extremely doting toward his Omega—so much so that he wouldn’t allow others to so much as glance too long or touch him. This had become common knowledge in the palace.
Of course, the new emperor’s Omega wasn’t an ordinary person. He was incredibly strong—perhaps as strong as the emperor himself. This, too, was palace consensus.
However, despite Mr. Ji’s immense strength and the fact that he wasn’t the delicate, fragile type of Omega who could be blown over by the wind, the emperor didn’t seem to realize this.
If his Omega so much as coughed softly, the emperor—no matter how far away—would become anxious and want to carry him back immediately.
Just like now.
Chu Shiye was striding down the corridor, carrying his Ji Mian.
Ji Mian’s hands rested on Chu Shiye’s shoulders. “I can walk on my own, you know.”
Chu Shiye: “Oh.”
And he continued carrying him.
Inside the spacious, luxurious room, a white dragon was chasing after a Light Goddess Butterfly, flitting about the space.
Though the white dragon had a pair of powerful, wide wings on its back, it chose not to fly. Instead, it ran around on the ground, huffing and puffing, chasing after the shimmering light specks the butterfly left in its wake.
The Light Goddess Butterfly, seemingly tired of flying, tucked its glowing wings away and gracefully landed on the white dragon’s head, bouncing a couple of times.
The white dragon, now with the beautiful butterfly perched on its head, lay still on the carpet, its long, sharp tail flicking back and forth.
Chu Shiye stepped over the dragon’s tail and gently placed Ji Mian onto the bed.
The soft, cloud-like mattress dipped slightly under Ji Mian’s weight. Chu Shiye then sat beside him, staring intently as if trying to lock Ji Mian in place with his gaze.
Ji Mian thought: It’s just a moment apart, and this Alpha reacts like this.
How will the psychological shadow from our past separation ever fade, even a little?
As this thought crossed his mind, Ji Mian instinctively grabbed Chu Shiye’s sleeve, slowly twisting the fabric around his finger.
Chu Shiye lowered his gaze.
Ji Mian’s fingers were long and slender, his knuckles distinct, clean, and beautiful.
Chu Shiye liked the warmth of those fingers touching him, their breath, and…
He lowered his head further. “Gege.”
Ji Mian: “Hm?”
Sigh, he’s acting like a spoiled child again. What does he want this time?
Chu Shiye placed the back of his hand over Ji Mian’s five fingers, pondering.
Then he thought some more.
And finally, he decided to stop thinking altogether.
Leaning against Ji Mian, he murmured, sticky and soft, “Gege…”
“Tonight, could we…”
Chu Shiye’s voice was faint, and the second half of his sentence melted into Ji Mian’s ear, sweet and indistinct, like cotton candy that dissolves into a sugary sensation with just one bite.
Ji Mian heard him.
“…”
Ji Mian fell silent.
Thank you so much for support ♡(´･ω･)(･ω･`)♡ :Ko-fi
