“It’s very simple,” Luo Qi said calmly. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“But I saw it with my own eyes!” The assistant director got excited, propping himself up on his side. “That human boy grabbed the monsters by their necks, twisted them with practiced ease—one twist, one kill. He did it several times in a row, and the monsters were so terrified they tucked their tails and ran!”
“I killed quite a few as well,” Luo Qi countered composedly. “And compared to getting their necks snapped, the way they died by my sword was far more gruesome. So why didn’t my kills scare them off?”
“Maybe… you’re too pretty?” The assistant director hesitated. “No, wait, that kid is really cute too. Then why did it happen?”
He stroked his chin, trying to deduce the reason. “Could it be that those monsters have some kind of deep-seated psychological trauma related to humans?”
Luo Qi responded with a smile and started operating his personal terminal.
“By the way, I never realized you were this skilled,” the assistant director mused. “I remember when you were filming web dramas before, there were fight scenes, and you said you hadn’t learned any combat techniques at all.”
“I picked up a few things later on,” Luo Qi replied with a smile.
“You improved this much in such a short time?” The assistant director scratched the back of his head. “And that thin sword of yours—I’ve never seen it before. If I’m not mistaken, you keep it hidden at your waist. Why would you carry something like that?”
Luo Qi closed his terminal and sighed. “I’m an elven prince, after all. Even in times of peace, all kinds of situations could arise at any moment. I have to be cautious.”
“I almost forgot about your status,” the assistant director suddenly realized. “It’s just that you’re usually so approachable.”
Luo Qi gave a helpless smile and lightly tapped his waist.
“Once your sister becomes the Queen of the Elves, you’ll be a prince—a position second only to hers. When that time comes, don’t forget to give your fans plenty of benefits,” the assistant director yawned. “Why am I so sleepy…?”
As soon as he finished speaking, soft snores filled the room. Luo Qi calmly reopened his terminal, quickly sent a string of numbers to an unfamiliar ID, and then deleted the message.
Because of the earlier incident, the rehearsal was postponed to the next day. Bo Ge helped the injured Teacher Tu back home, and that night, when Big Cat returned, Bo Ge tried his best to act as if nothing had happened. But just before bedtime, as the man leaned against the headboard reading a physical book, he suddenly asked in a deep voice:
“How was rehearsal today?”
Fresh out of the shower, Bo Ge blinked and grinned. “Pretty good!”
“Hmm.” Lie Beishuang continued reading.
“What are you reading?” Feeling guilty, Bo Ge leaned in curiously, only to see that Lie Beishuang had switched to a different book—”One Hundred Questions About Raising a Human.”
Big Cat was currently on Question 29: ‘When Do Humans Learn to Lie?’
Bo Ge suddenly felt a crisis, as if the walls of the bedroom were silently displaying the words: “Confess for leniency, resist and face severity.”
“The book says that humans actually don’t know how to lie,” Lie Beishuang explained unhurriedly. “Because when a human lies, they exhibit subtle, involuntary reactions—both physiological and psychological.”
Bo Ge let out a nervous chuckle. “Really?”
“For example, a fake smile. For right-handed humans, the left corner of their mouth lifts higher.” Lie Beishuang looked at him calmly.
Bo Ge immediately wiped the smile off his face, avoiding the man’s piercing gaze as he rubbed his cheek. “Maybe I slept wrong and my mouth is crooked.”
“Avoiding eye contact.”
Left with no choice, Bo Ge forced himself to meet Big Cat’s eyes and tried his best to maintain a serious stare.
“When a lie is exposed, humans become more anxious, causing their face to flush—commonly known as blushing.”
Subconsciously, Bo Ge touched his face… It felt a little hot.
Lie Beishuang silently observed his human, his expression unchanged from beginning to end.
“I’m just going to sit here and watch you act.”
Bo Ge gave up all resistance. “I’ll confess.”
He roughly explained what had happened today, then guiltily lowered his head, avoiding the man’s gaze.
“Have you encountered these mutated creatures before?” Lie Beishuang’s voice was low.
“Yes. They’re all over the wastelands,” Bo Ge cautiously admitted.
“These creatures can only be domesticated; they don’t naturally exist in the wild on a large scale, especially not in a feral state.”
“You’ve seen them too?” Bo Ge looked up in surprise.
Lie Beishuang gave a slight nod, his eyes fixed on the boy. “I want to ask—what else do you know about Mr. Huiman’er?”
“My adoptive father?” Bo Ge scratched his head. “Well, he did raise me free-range and made me go through all sorts of weird training, but I know he’s a good person.”
Lie Beishuang pressed his lips together, placed his book aside, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
Seeing him remain silent, Bo Ge got anxious. “Can you at least give me a hint?”
“The things happening around you are extremely complex. Half of my previous theories have now been overturned,” Lie Beishuang said coldly. “At this point, I’d rather you just be an infiltrating Zerg spy.”
“So…” Bo Ge pitifully furrowed his brows, staring down at his socks. “Love really does disappear, doesn’t it?”
“No.” Lie Beishuang pulled the boy into his lap, his gaze serious.
“No matter who you are or why you’re here, my feelings for you will never disappear.”
Bo Ge looked up and softly kissed the man’s cheek. “I’m just your little Gu Gu.”
Lie Beishuang let out a helpless chuckle and gently patted Bo Ge’s back. “Sleep. You have to wake up early tomorrow.”
“So you’re letting me continue the rehearsals?” Bo Ge looked at him in surprise.
“You are an independent human, not my possession. Whatever you choose to do, I won’t restrict you in the name of love.” Lie Beishuang sighed. “I only ask that you don’t make me a widower too soon.”
“No problem!” Bo Ge excitedly held up three fingers. “I’ll make sure to protect myself!”
“Good.”
Big Cat pressed a gentle kiss to Bo Ge’s cheek—it felt like a soft petal brushing against his skin, tickling him.
“Do you want to…” Bo Ge licked his lips and flirtatiously blinked at him.
Lie Beishuang lowered his head and coughed lightly before adjusting the room’s lighting to a dim glow.
At first, it was fun. But as things progressed, Bo Ge realized that he and Big Cat had completely different goals.
Bo Ge had wanted to eat a hot dog.
But Big Cat had wanted to make a hot dog.
Once a misunderstanding like that arises, things can go very wrong. While Gu Gu was earnestly trying to eat his hot dog, Big Cat reached for the bun, attempting to explore its inner layers.
Bo Ge was stunned—so stunned that he had no idea what to do next. And when Big Cat continued trying to expand the bun’s opening, Bo Ge felt a sharp twinge of pain. A deep sense of crisis overwhelmed him, and at that slight pain, tears welled up in his eyes uncontrollably.
Tearfully, he choked out, “It hurts.”
Big Cat immediately turned the lights up, trying to assess the situation. Bo Ge, lips trembling, clutched his critical area, his eyes brimming with tears as he squeezed his legs together and scurried off to the bathroom.
The man, now sitting silently on the bed, reflected on his actions.
…Maybe that was a bit too much?
Luo Qi shut off his light brain and sighed. “I’m still a prince of the elf race. Even in peaceful times, anything could happen at any moment, so I have to be cautious.”
“I almost forgot about your status. It’s mainly because you’re always so approachable,” the assistant director suddenly realized.
Luo Qi smiled helplessly and tapped his fingertips against his waist.
“When your sister becomes the queen of the elves, you’ll be a prince of the highest rank—second only to one, above all others. When that time comes, don’t forget to give your fans some extra benefits,” the assistant director yawned. “Why am I so sleepy…”
The sound of snoring soon followed. Luo Qi calmly turned his light brain back on and quickly sent a string of numbers to an unfamiliar ID before deleting the message record.
The rehearsal originally scheduled for today had been postponed to tomorrow due to an accident. Bo Ge helped an injured sea rabbit back home, and that night, the big cat returned. Bo Ge did his best to act as usual until bedtime when the man leaning against the headboard, reading a paper book, suddenly asked in a low voice:
“How was rehearsal today?”
Bo Ge, freshly bathed and smelling nice, blinked and grinned. “Pretty good.”
“Mm.” Lie Beishuang continued reading.
“What are you reading?” Feeling guilty, Bo Ge scooted closer, only to see that Lie Beishuang had switched to another book. The title read: One Hundred Questions About Raising Humans.
The big cat was on question twenty-nine: When do humans learn to lie?
Bo Ge suddenly felt like his secret was about to be exposed.
In this era, secrets no longer existed. Everyone’s privacy was clearly recorded through data.
Everything that had happened at the rehearsal venue today had already been logged by the patrol officers. As someone with the authority to access those records, Lie Beishuang likely found out about the incident immediately.
Bo Ge lowered his head, feeling like the white walls of the bedroom were silently warning him: Confess and you’ll be treated leniently. Resist and you’ll be dealt with severely.
“The book says that humans actually don’t know how to lie,” Lie Beishuang explained unhurriedly. “Because when a human lies, they show subtle involuntary reactions—both physiological and psychological.”
Bo Ge let out a guilty laugh. “Really?”
“For example, a fake smile. Humans who are right-handed tend to lift their left mouth corner higher.” Lie Beishuang looked at him calmly.
Bo Ge immediately wiped the grin off his face, avoiding the big cat’s piercing gaze. He rubbed his cheeks. “Maybe I have a stiff neck. My mouth feels a little crooked.”
“Avoiding eye contact.”
Bo Ge had no choice but to look back, forcing himself to stare seriously into the big cat’s eyes.
“When a lie is exposed, humans become even more nervous. This causes facial blood vessels to expand, which people call blushing.”
Bo Ge instinctively touched his face… It felt a little warm.
Lie Beishuang watched his little human in silence, his expression remaining unchanged from start to finish.
I’ll just sit here and watch you act.
“I confess,” Bo Ge finally gave up resisting.
He roughly explained what had happened today, lowering his head guiltily, not daring to meet the man’s gaze.
“You’ve seen this type of mutant creature before?” Lie Beishuang’s voice was deep.
“I have. They’re all over the wasteland planets,” Bo Ge cautiously answered.
“These creatures can only be domesticated. They don’t live in large numbers on a single planet, especially not in the wild.”
“You’ve seen them too?” Bo Ge looked up in surprise.
Lie Beishuang nodded slightly and looked down at him. “I want to ask—what else do you know about Mr. Huimaner?”
“My adoptive father? What about him?” Bo Ge scratched his head. “Although he let me roam freely and put me through all sorts of weird training, I know he’s a good person.”
Lie Beishuang pressed his lips together in silence. He closed the book and set it aside, rubbing his brow with two fingers.
Seeing him remain quiet, Bo Ge grew anxious. “Can’t you at least give me a hint?”
“The things that have happened to you are incredibly complicated. Half of my previous theories have now been overturned,” Lie Beishuang said coolly. “At this point, I’d rather you were a Zerg spy.”
“So…” Bo Ge frowned pitifully, staring down at his socks. “Love will disappear, won’t it?”
“It won’t.”
Lie Beishuang lifted the boy onto his lap, his gaze serious.
“No matter who you are or why you’re here, my feelings for you will never change.”
Bo Ge looked up and softly kissed the man’s cheek. “I’m just your little Gu Gu.”
Lie Beishuang smiled helplessly and patted Bo Ge’s back. “Sleep now. You have to get up early tomorrow.”
“You’re letting me continue my rehearsals?” Bo Ge asked in surprise.
“You are a human with independent will, not my possession. Whatever you want to do, I won’t use love as an excuse to keep you bound,” Lie Beishuang sighed. “Just… don’t make me a widower too soon.”
“No problem!” Bo Ge excitedly raised three fingers. “I’ll definitely take care of myself!”
“Mm.”
The big cat gently kissed Bo Ge’s cheek, the soft touch like flower petals brushing against him, making Bo Ge squirm from the ticklish sensation.
“Do you want to…” Bo Ge licked his lips and flirtatiously blinked at the big cat.
Lie Beishuang coughed lightly, lowering the bedroom lights.
At first, it was quite enjoyable, but later on, Bo Ge realized their goals had completely diverged.
Bo Ge had been thinking about eating a hotdog, but the big cat was thinking about making a hotdog.
Once there was a misalignment in expectations, misunderstandings arose. While Gu Gu was carefully eating his hotdog, the big cat reached for the bun holding the sausage, attempting to explore deeper inside.
Bo Ge was stunned. Stunned to the point where he had no idea what to do next. When the big cat continued trying to expand the space inside the bun, Gu Gu felt a sharp pain. The overwhelming sense of crisis made his eyes well up with tears the moment he felt that stinging sensation.
Tear-filled eyes.
“It hurts.”
The big cat quickly turned up the lights, wanting to check his little human’s injuries. Bo Ge pouted, clutching his sore spot, and shuffled toward the bathroom with teary eyes and tightly pressed legs.
The man sat on the bed, silently reflecting on his actions.
Did I go overboard?
—
I wasn’t careful enough. Humans are so fragile, and yet I didn’t prepare properly. My moment of impatience ended up hurting my little human.
Why was I better at this during my heat period than I am now when I’m completely rational?
Could it be… instinct?
Bo Ge stayed in the bathroom for a long time. On the surface, there was no visible issue, but he could still feel that foreign sensation—one that was both embarrassing and strange.
After lingering for a while, he listened carefully. The room outside was silent. Guessing that the big cat had already fallen asleep, he cautiously opened the door. Peeking out, he saw the man lying flat on the bed.
On tiptoe, Bo Ge sneaked back onto the bed—this time, as far from the man as possible.
“I’m sorry.”
In the quiet room, the man’s voice suddenly broke the silence.
[mfn]If you enjoy my translations, you can show your support by leaving a comment or donating to my Ko-fi. It will be much appreciated. Thank you! -TL: YSIAD[/mfn]
