TCPUAAV Chapter 84

 

Excited beyond measure, Ruan Shiqing began adjusting the instruments again. His eyes remained locked on the display, not missing even the slightest fluctuation. “It’s definitely leaking from the wormhole. We need to get closer.”

 

His cheeks flushed with excitement, tinged with a faint rosy hue. His dark eyes gleamed brightly, as if he were radiating light.

 

Rong Heng glanced at him from the side, feeling the heat from his earlobes spread all the way to his chest.

 

His heart pounded fast and strong, the rhythmic thumping loud and clear in his ears.

 

Secretly, he recalled the feeling of embracing the other man. It was as if some long-empty void within him had been filled, wrapping his entire being in warmth and joy.

 

The sensation was too strange—like tiny electric currents crawling up from the soles of his feet, leaving his mouth dry and his pulse racing.

 

Feeling a bit restless, Rong Heng shifted slightly, turned his face away, and increased speed, steering toward the wormhole.

 

The closer they got, the more erratic the readings on the detector became.

 

By the time the shuttle reached the wormhole’s entrance, the fluctuations had peaked.

 

Ruan Shiqing rapidly analyzed the recorded data. “When we first passed by this wormhole, I can confirm there was no activity around it. But now, these sudden massive fluctuations suggest something on the other side has changed.”

 

“Should we go in and take a look?” Rong Heng asked.

 

“Would it be too dangerous?” Ruan Shiqing hesitated.

 

If he were alone, he wouldn’t hesitate to enter. But now, with Mr. Rong here, he couldn’t help but worry that bringing him along might put him in danger.

 

Mr. Rong had already helped him so much.

 

“Even if it’s dangerous, that’s fine,” Rong Heng said. He wanted to remain composed and humble, but under Ruan Shiqing’s slightly anxious gaze, he found himself unable to resist showing a more capable side.

 

“I can protect you.”

 

Even though a semi-collapsed wormhole was filled with instability, it wasn’t as if the Crown Prince had never traversed one before.

 

Hearing his words, Ruan Shiqing chuckled, realizing that Rong Heng had misunderstood his concern. But in the end, he didn’t explain.

 

After a brief moment of thought, he decided to proceed.

 

If this phenomenon was just a fleeting anomaly, waiting until they were fully prepared before returning might mean missing this opportunity altogether.

 

He wasn’t willing to let it slip away.

 

Upon receiving Ruan Shiqing’s approval, Rong Heng reminded him to hold on tight before accelerating and entering the wormhole.

 

Inside, darkness reigned. Looking through the viewport, there was nothing but an endless void. If not for the dashboard confirming their forward motion, one might feel as though even time itself had come to a standstill.

 

Staying inside for too long could easily lead to cognitive dissonance and extreme psychological stress.

 

That was why most pilots engaged autopilot during wormhole jumps, setting a timer before retreating to the rest chamber for sleep.

 

But this semi-collapsed wormhole was unstable, and Ruan Shiqing needed to monitor the data in real time. So, Rong Heng remained seated in the pilot’s chair, keeping the shuttle steady.

 

The journey inside the wormhole was dull and monotonous. With nothing else to focus on, his gaze naturally drifted toward Ruan Shiqing.

 

The other man had his head lowered, engrossed in analyzing the data. Fine strands of black hair fell along the sides of his face, and the overhead light cast shifting shadows over his features, making his sharp, refined contours appear even more striking.

 

He was always serious and focused when he worked.

 

A stark contrast from his usual self—and utterly captivating.

 

Rong Heng’s fingers twitched slightly on the control panel, an inexplicable itch at his fingertips.

 

If not for the risk of disrupting Ruan Shiqing’s work, he would have traced those delicate features with his fingers, engraving this moment into his memory.

 

But in the end, the Crown Prince could only gaze at him in silence, eyes deep and intent.

 

Completely absorbed in his work, Ruan Shiqing finally sensed something amiss. He lifted his head—only to meet those piercing eyes.

 

He froze for a moment, vaguely feeling that there was something different in Rong Heng’s gaze. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

 

“…What’s wrong?”

 

Rong Heng averted his gaze uncomfortably, his Adam’s apple shifting under the collar of his uniform as he hastily searched for an excuse. “It’s nothing. Just bored, so I was watching you work.”

 

The moment the words left his mouth, he pressed his lips together in regret. That almost sounded like a complaint.

 

But Ruan Shiqing didn’t think much of it. He chuckled and said, “Then let’s chat for a bit.”

 

Since entering the wormhole, the fluctuations in the readings had gradually stabilized, showing a steady increase—indicating they were approaching the source. There was no longer a need for him to stay glued to the data, so he could afford to relax.

 

“I forgot to ask earlier, but I saw that live broadcast clip circulating on the holo-net,” Ruan Shiqing said. “Those so-called ‘Eastern Alliance’ space pirates—was that you and Merrell in disguise?”

 

Though they wore masks, anyone familiar with them could recognize them at a glance.

 

At first, he had been surprised—Mr. Rong always seemed so serious and composed, yet he had pulled off something this unconventional. But thinking about it carefully, it was actually the best course of action.

 

Not only did it expose Sijialan’s crimes and alert the public, but it also helped conceal their true identities.

 

Since Mr. Rong and his team were part of the military, they were bound by restrictions. But if they acted under the guise of space pirates, they could move with far fewer obstacles.

 

Rong Heng’s expression stiffened slightly. It took him a long moment before he finally let out a low “Mm.”

 

Wearing that mask wasn’t exactly flattering. In a muffled voice, the Crown Prince muttered, “That was Merrell’s idea.”

 

Had he known Ruan Shiqing would see it, he would have at least worn something more presentable.

 

Ruan Shiqing, however, completely understood. “His Majesty is preparing for war against Sijialan. That must put you all in a difficult position, right?”

 

Otherwise, they wouldn’t have needed to hide their identities and leak the intel online. With Mr. Rong’s capabilities, he could have reported the matter directly to the military and forced the Empire to take action.

 

But in the end, they had chosen this method—which meant that appealing to the Empire was a dead end.

 

A hint of concern flickered in Ruan Shiqing’s expression. “Do you think the Empire will really go to war with Sijialan?”

 

“It’s highly likely.” Rong Heng’s face darkened at the mention of the topic, his gaze deep and unreadable. “Both the Emperor and Sijialan are ambitious. A clash between them is inevitable—it’s just a matter of who has the better cards and the higher chances of winning.”

 

“Will you be joining the war?”

 

Rong Heng shook his head. “The frontline soldiers fight against the Zerg. We don’t point our guns at our own people.”

 

No matter how the Emperor, Siyan, tried to provoke an internal war, the Yanji forces would hold the southeastern defenses.

 

Ruan Shiqing sighed softly. “But once war breaks out, none of us will be able to stay uninvolved.”

 

That was precisely why he had been so excited when he discovered antimatter. In a chaotic nation like this, only overwhelming power could guarantee survival.

 

If war erupted, B3024 would inevitably be affected. If he wanted to protect himself—if he wanted to protect more people—he had to grow stronger.

 

Rong Heng seemed to see through his thoughts and said in a low voice, “We won’t let the war drag on for too long.”

 

“Mm.”

 

Ruan Shiqing responded lightly. In truth, he had never felt a deep sense of belonging to the Galactic Empire. Its outdated feudal system and ingrained racial discrimination made him uncomfortable.

 

But B3024, Mr. Rong, and Dares—they were the reasons he still held hope for this world.

 

The universe was not entirely dark. Even in the night, fireflies still glowed.

 

And because of that, he was willing to fight for a better future.

 

“Up ahead—I think I see light.”

 

The sudden appearance of light cut their conversation short. Ruan Shiqing’s attention snapped to the viewport.

 

The once pitch-black expanse now showed a faint, flickering glow.

 

Rong Heng quickly refocused and accelerated toward the light source.

 

As they drew closer, the vague glow became clearer.

 

And when they finally saw what lay ahead, their expressions shifted to astonishment—

 

A battlefield.

 

Explosions erupted in the starry void, lighting up the cosmos with bursts of fire and debris.

 

The starfield before them was incredibly dense, shaped like a vast, disc-shaped saucer. Brilliant nebulas shrouded countless celestial bodies of varying sizes, orbiting one another in intricate paths. It was as if some invisible magnetic force bound them together, suspending them within the darkness of the wormhole.

 

At the outer edge of this starfield, explosions erupted one after another.

 

Blinding bursts of light illuminated the nebulae and planets, only for them to be reduced to cosmic dust in the aftermath. Most of this matter, pulled by gravity, remained within the starfield, gradually coalescing. Given time, these fragments might condense into new nebulae—or even new planets.

 

But some of the stardust drifted away into the surrounding void.

 

Ruan Shiqing stared at the data streaming in from the detectors, his voice trembling slightly. “These explosions… they’re caused by annihilation reactions.”

 

A fiery light flared in his eyes as he nearly pressed himself against the viewport. “This starfield—it’s likely an entire antimatter source.”

 

An antimatter source—as the name implied, a concentrated mass of antimatter.

 

In his original world, there was a theoretical proposition: since matter and antimatter exist in opposition, then if a universe made of matter exists, there must also be one made of antimatter. However, in the observable universe, matter was dominant; otherwise, large-scale annihilation reactions would have triggered cataclysmic explosions long ago.

 

Still, that didn’t mean antimatter was completely absent from the material universe. Some theorized that undetected regions of space might harbor antimatter sources.

 

The minuscule traces of antimatter detected in the cosmos were believed to have leaked from such sources.

 

But this theory had never been proven—because no one had ever found an actual antimatter source.

 

His hands, braced against the viewport, clenched tightly. Ruan Shiqing inhaled deeply, exhaled, and forced himself to stay calm. Turning to Rong Heng, he said, “Let’s get closer. I want to try capturing some antimatter.”

 

He had designed a specialized magnetic containment vessel, mimicking Zerg exoskeletons to safely store antimatter.

 

The Zerg’s natural armor could isolate antimatter, and a controlled magnetic field would keep it stabilized, preventing uncontrolled dispersal.

 

Carefully, he retrieved an oddly shaped metallic container from a secure case, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Find a relatively safe spot to hover—I’m going out.”

 

The prototype containment unit required precise manual handling. It wasn’t something a robotic arm could manage. He had to do this himself.

 

Rong Heng frowned in disapproval. “It’s too dangerous outside. Show me how to use it—I’ll go instead.”

 

But this time, Ruan Shiqing was resolute, his face alight with exhilaration. “I want to do it myself.”

 

This was historic.

 

A discovery like this—he wanted to be the one to see it through.

 

“It’s more dangerous than you think,” Rong Heng warned, pointing at the drifting asteroids. “You can’t feel it from inside the shuttle, but the explosions generate powerful shockwaves. Those asteroids may seem slow-moving, but in reality, they’re traveling at extreme speeds.”

 

Seeing that Ruan Shiqing refused to back down, Rong Heng took a step back and made a compromise. “If you insist on going, then I’m going with you. I won’t let you go alone.”

 

His expression was serious, his tone unwavering. His golden eyes were filled with disapproval, yet in the end, he relented slightly under Ruan Shiqing’s determination.

 

Ruan Shiqing wasn’t reckless. After a moment’s thought, he placed the containment unit in Rong Heng’s hands. “Alright. We’ll go together.”

 

Only then did Rong Heng’s tightly furrowed brows ease. While Ruan Shiqing went to change into a spacesuit, Rong Heng handed over control of the shuttle to Noah.

 

Once suited up, the two of them tethered themselves together with an ultra-lightweight Wolm metal chain.

 

Ruan Shiqing cradled the containment unit in one hand and clasped Rong Heng’s hand with the other. “Let’s go.”

 

The rear airlock slowly opened. Rong Heng led the way, pulling him into the void.

 

His movements were fluid and practiced, using the micro-thrusters attached to his suit’s limbs to control direction and speed.

 

Ruan Shiqing, on the other hand, was much less graceful, dragged along somewhat clumsily. Only now did he realize just how reckless his initial plan had been.

 

He had no formal training. If he had rushed out alone, he probably would’ve ended up floating aimlessly in space, waiting for Mr. Rong to retrieve him.

 

His cheeks burned. Watching Rong Heng navigate the zero-gravity environment with effortless precision, he couldn’t help but feel envious.

 

Even in the weightlessness of space, his posture was impeccable. A truly exceptional soldier.

 

“Is this spot good?” Rong Heng asked cautiously, bringing them to a halt.

 

The further they went, the stronger the resistance. The explosive shockwaves expanded outward like ocean waves, pushing against them relentlessly. One misstep, and they could be swept away into the vast, inescapable abyss of space.

 

“I’ll give it a try.”

 

Still tethered to him, Ruan Shiqing found maneuvering with one hand cumbersome. After struggling for a moment, he looked at Rong Heng and said, “Hold me for a second.”

 

！！！！

 

For a brief moment, Rong Heng felt a flicker of elation—only to quickly realize Ruan Shiqing meant it purely for convenience.

 

Carefully, he wrapped an arm around Ruan Shiqing’s waist, holding him securely.

 

Like he was cradling something precious.

 

Even though the thick spacesuits prevented him from actually feeling anything, he still couldn’t suppress the small, secret smile tugging at his lips—one he made sure Ruan Shiqing wouldn’t see.

 

 

---

 

One is busy with scientific breakthrough

One is busy with emotional breakthrough

 

(Ruan Ruan recognized him so “easily” despite the mask he wore, and he has so much faith in him that’s so cute lol lol)

 

(Also I nearly had a hard attack with the title!! I got a bit baited!!!)

 

 

Thanks for reading!

For every three ko-fis, I will upload a bonus chapter~