ISMW Chapter 30

Yun Xunlan maintained an optimistic attitude about this.

 

Coincidentally, he didn’t really want to see Mu Xingyu, so Yun Xunlan used Dr. Edmund’s medical advice as an excuse to seclude himself in his room for two days. During these two days, he didn’t see anyone, including Yu Chen—this was unavoidable.

 

Because Yun Xunlan feared that if he saw Yu Chen, not only would he be unable to have tutoring sessions or sleep together temporarily, but Mu Xingyu might also insist on seeing him. So he simply nipped it in the bud, eliminating this possibility entirely.

 

The attendants like Ni Chun, who had served Yun Xunlan for years, were long accustomed to the youth’s habit of sudden self-isolation and thought nothing of it. However, the newly arrived guards like Fu Yanxi, Gui Yan, Lu You, and the Song brothers couldn’t quite suppress their worry.

 

Especially on Monday, when they saw Second Prince Mu Xingyu, whose susceptible period had ended and who was about to return to the border battlefield, come to bid farewell to Yun Xunlan. Yun Xunlan didn’t even open the door, remaining in his bedroom and only exchanging a few polite words with Mu Xingyu, who stood outside, through a communicator. This increased their concern.

 

So during dinner, Song Tingxiao couldn’t help discussing this with his brother Song Tingyan: “Brother, he’s supposed to be resting, but the Third Highness is ‘resting’ to the point of hardly seeing anyone… is this normal?”

 

“I don’t know,” Song Tingyan turned his gaze to the blue-eyed alpha with wolf-tail black hair to his left rear, asking him, “Yu Chen, you were there when the Third Highness summoned Dr. Edmund, right? Is the Third Highness really alright?”

 

Yu Chen didn’t even lift his eyelids, but his motion of poking at the meat with his chopsticks paused slightly: “Dr. Edmund said there was nothing wrong.”

 

“Right, don’t worry, the Third Highness should be fine.”

 

The usually quiet Lu You joined their conversation: “I heard the inner attendants say that the Third Highness often does this. When he doesn’t want to see people, even the Crown Princess can’t pry open his door.”

 

Song Tingxiao continued to inquire: “Did the attendants say why the Third Highness does this?”

 

Lu You shook his head: “They didn’t say, they don’t know the reason either.”

 

“Strange… but it’s good that the Third Highness is alright.” Gui Yan mumbled, then elbowed Fu Yanxi beside him, “Brother Xi, are you approaching your susceptible period? Why aren’t you showing any concern for the Third Highness?”

 

Fu Yanxi had been focused on eating the whole time, not expressing any sentiments about “protecting” the Third Highness, very unlike his usual self.

 

“It’s not my susceptible period,” Fu Yanxi explained when asked, “I’ve always been concerned about the Third Highness.”

 

Gui Yan challenged him: “You’re concerned but silent? Superficial concern?”

 

“Even if I don’t say it out loud, I’m definitely concerned in my heart.” Fu Yanxi wouldn’t allow anyone to question his loyalty to Yun Xunlan. He raised his chin proudly and said, “I’ve been concerned about the Third Highness since I was fifteen. What about you?”

 

Gui Yan indeed couldn’t match Fu Yanxi on this point. His voice faltered: “I, I was only seventeen when…”

 

“You decided to devote your lives to the Third Highness so early?”

 

Ji Bai, overhearing Fu Yanxi and Gui Yan’s conversation, immediately came over with his bowl, curious to inquire.

 

But his movement was a bit too large, and as he got up to change seats, he accidentally knocked over Yu Chen’s coffee cup. The brown liquid instantly spilled across the table.

 

“Ji Bai.” The blue-eyed alpha raised an eyebrow, put down his chopsticks, and called Ji Bai’s name. His consistently deep voice sounded like a cold warning before scolding someone, “You spilled my coffee.”

 

Ji Bai didn’t want to experience the full force of Yu Chen’s verbal attack, so he quickly apologized: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll pour you a new cup.”

 

Yu Chen moved to a new seat with his tray: “No need, just be careful next time.”

 

Ji Bai was surprised at Yu Chen’s easy-going response: “Alright, Brother Yu, I definitely will next time. Thanks a lot.”

 

Gui Yan, however, tilted his head in confusion: “Yu Chen, why does your cursing have an accent now?”

 

Yu Chen: “?”

 

He frowned: “When did I curse?”

 

Yu Chen felt he had been quite civil lately, not cursing anyone except that wild online pervert called “Newbie Fish Keeper.” How could Gui Yan slander him like this?

 

Gui Yan pointed at Ji Bai and explained: “Didn’t you just curse at him?”

 

Yu Chen was exasperated: “I didn’t curse at him, I was just calling his name.”

 

Fu Yanxi was also puzzled: “Isn’t he called ‘Chicken Neck’?”

 

Ji Bai raised his hand: “Don’t worry about that, just call me by my number ‘Eighth’ is fine. Please don’t use my full name, preferably not even my surname.”

 

But Gui Yan persisted, determined to get to the bottom of it: “But Eighth, is the ‘Bai’ in your name pronounced ‘bǎi’ or ‘bó'[mfn]This line is a play on words related to Ji Bai’s name. In Chinese, the character ‘柏’ in names can be pronounced two ways:

 

‘bǎi’ (third tone) – which sounds similar to ‘bái’ (second tone), meaning “white” or “pure”

 

‘bó’ (second tone) – which means “cypress” or “cedar”

 

The joke here is that Ji Bai’s name could potentially sound like “Chicken White” (鸡白 – jī bái) or “Chicken Cypress” (鸡柏 – jī bó), both of which are somewhat awkward or funny-sounding names. This is why Ji Bai prefers to be called by his number “Eighth” instead of his actual name.[/mfn]?”

 

Ji Bai said: “It’s pronounced ‘Eighth’.”

 

Gui Yan: “…”

 

“Eighth, you’ve had it tough,” Fu Yanxi patted Ji Bai’s shoulder, comforting him. “But you don’t need to worry too much. Your name either sounds very masculine or very delicious. It’s a good name no matter how it’s called.”

 

Ji Bai: “…Thank you, I feel much better now.”

 

Fu Yanxi waved his hand: “No need to thank me. We’re all colleagues, the Third Highness’s most loyal guards. We should love and support each other. If you really want to thank me, just call me ‘Brother’ more often.”

 

“Alright, Brother Xi,” Ji Bai readily complied. “Then can you tell me how you all decided so early to devote your lives to the Third Highness?”

 

Fu Yanxi didn’t refuse. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, his eyes were shining with nostalgia: “Because when I was fifteen… I once saw His Highness.”

 

Even today, Fu Yanxi still clearly remembered every frame of his encounter with the Third Highness at the Galactic Empire Military Medical Research Institute in late May, twelve years ago.

 

That morning, Fu Yanxi had just woken up when he received a call from his father General Fu Yingxuan’s deputy.

 

The deputy told him that Fu Yingxuan had returned to the Capital Star, but due to severe injuries, he had to stay in the hospital for a month. If Fu Yanxi wanted to see his father, he would have to go to the Military Medical Research Institute.

 

Did Fu Yanxi want to see Fu Yingxuan?

 

Before receiving this call, Fu Yanxi thought he didn’t, even though it had been two full years since he last saw Fu Yingxuan in person.

 

Because his father—the illustrious General Fu of the Galactic Empire, a great hero in the hearts of countless citizens—was not a good husband or father.

 

But after hanging up the phone, Fu Yanxi still went to the Military Medical Research Institute.

 

In the end, they had a fierce argument at the hospital.

 

The conflict was triggered when Fu Yanxi asked Fu Yingxuan how long he could stay in the Capital Star.

 

“Just for this month of hospitalization,” Fu Yingxuan replied to Fu Yanxi. “Once I’m healed, I’ll immediately return to the border battlefield.”

 

Fu Yanxi asked again: “Leaving so soon? Don’t you still have annual leave?”

 

Fu Yingxuan said: “I won’t take it. The border battlefield needs me.”

 

After hearing this, Fu Yanxi wanted to ask another question: What about your family? Doesn’t your family need you anymore?

 

But in the end, he didn’t ask. It seemed unnecessary.

 

If Fu Yingxuan knew his family needed him and could balance work and family, his mother wouldn’t have divorced Fu Yingxuan, and he wouldn’t have gone from being a child who seemed to have no father to an “orphan” who didn’t even have a mother.

 

Fu Yanxi never thought Fu Yingxuan had done anything wrong.

 

—Since ancient times, it’s been difficult to be both loyal and filial.

 

Fu Yanxi understood this principle.

 

But after not seeing each other for two years, finally meeting again, Fu Yingxuan didn’t ask or show any concern about how he had been doing these two years, whether anyone bullied him at school, or if he had encountered any unresolvable sorrows. Even though he was so ill he could barely speak coherently, the first thing out of his mouth was still the same old admonitions: “When I’m not around, don’t neglect your physical training. I heard from your trainer that your recent… *cough cough*… condition is very poor. Anlos Military Academy has very high physical requirements for alpha students. If you can’t pass the physical exam, I’ll have to find someone to help, to find a way to…”

 

As the son of an Imperial General, Fu Yanxi had received deeper moral education than ordinary people since childhood. He had always viewed becoming a soldier like his father, shedding sweat and blood on the battlefield until death, as the most glorious ideal.

 

However, at this moment, looking at his cold and stern father on the hospital bed, he thought of his pale and emaciated mother who had waited by the window day after day for over a decade, of his grandparents who passed away without seeing their grandson one last time, of the now empty and deathly quiet home with only himself left—if it could still be called a “home.”

 

A feeling of powerless anger and grievance suddenly welled up in Fu Yanxi’s heart, making his eyes sting and swell.

 

So Fu Yanxi, who had never defied his father before, experienced his first and only rebellion in life: “Dad, you don’t need to find someone to help. If I can’t pass the physical exam, can’t I just not go to Anlos Military Academy?”

 

Fu Yingxuan questioned him: “You’re my son. If you don’t go to Anlos Military Academy, where will you go?”

 

“Just because I’m your son, do I have to join the army and go to the border battlefield like you?” Fu Yanxi countered. “Can’t I choose to do other things I can do or want to do?”

 

“Is this why your physical training results have declined? You don’t want to join the army? Then tell me, what do you want to do?”

 

Fu Yingxuan’s tone was calm at first, but as he spoke, he suddenly raised his voice: “You’ve enjoyed education and resources superior to the vast majority of people in this world. You should go out there to contribute, to sacrifice, to fight enemies and repay your country! I never expected you to necessarily achieve great things, but I don’t want you to be a coward! If you had said earlier that you didn’t want to join the army, I would never have arranged trainers to waste time, so you could do whatever you truly wanted to do!”

 

 

“Hope, hope!”

 

Fu Yanxi also raised his voice, shouting hoarsely: “Mom hoped you could come back to see her occasionally, did you do that? The pain she endured to remove the permanent mark was no less than what you’re feeling lying here! Grandpa and Grandma always supported your career, never asking you to come home, but before they died, they mistook me for you, tightly holding my hand and saying ‘It’s good that you’re back.’ But did you really come home? Do you know how much they hoped to see you one last time?”

 

“…Are we all just emotionless robots?”

 

“What can’t you do… yet what right do you have to make me do what you hope for?!”

 

“If possible, I wish I hadn’t been born into the Fu family. If you want to be a great Imperial General, if you want a son who isn’t a coward, then you shouldn’t have married Mom, shouldn’t have given birth to me who can also feel fear and sadness!”

 

After venting all the anger and bitterness in his heart, Fu Yanxi couldn’t see clearly, nor did he want to see Fu Yingxuan’s expression anymore. He turned and rushed out of the hospital room.

 

He ran wildly down the corridor with his head down, stumbling to a deserted corner of the Military Medical Research Institute’s garden before slowly stopping, sitting on a bench to wipe his eyes.

 

“Big brother, are you crying?”

 

Fu Yanxi thought he was alone here, but just as he was halfway through wiping his tears, he suddenly heard a child calling him “big brother.”

 

Fu Yanxi raised his head and looked around, then discovered the child who had asked if he was crying behind a clump of evening primroses.

 

He peeked out half his head from the evening primrose bushes, with silver hair and snow-white skin, so bright it was almost dazzling, nearly melting into the light. Only the black sunglasses perched on his nose were the sole deep and vivid color on him.

 

When he didn’t hear a response, he didn’t pursue the question further. Instead, he clumsily felt the sunglasses on his face like a blind person and asked for help: “Big brother, can you help me see if these evening primroses have bloomed? I just had eye surgery.”

 

…Is he unable to see? No wonder he’s wearing such thick sunglasses, Fu Yanxi thought.

 

Such a small favor, not even worth lifting a finger for, Fu Yanxi naturally wouldn’t refuse. Thinking that this child couldn’t see anything anyway, he simply didn’t bother wiping away his tears and said in a hoarse voice, his face still a mess: “There are buds, but they haven’t bloomed yet. They should open in the evening.”

 

Evening primroses generally start blooming in the evening, which is why they’re also called “wait-for-night flowers.”

 

“Thank you,” the silver-haired child thanked him. “The surgery was very painful, I cried for a long time. Every day I thought about coming to see these flowers once I could see. Big brother, are you crying because you had surgery and it hurt?”

 

“…No, I didn’t have surgery.”

 

Fu Yanxi answered the silver-haired child while looking down at his own hands—these hands weren’t beautiful, rough and dry, with thick calluses embedded in the palms, traces of years of training, also armor protecting the palm flesh from further abrasion. However, for some reason, when wiping his own tears, Fu Yanxi felt his palms were incredibly painful.

 

He told the silver-haired child the reason in a daze: “I… had an argument with my dad.”

 

“Then big brother, you can sit here for a while and wait for these evening primroses to bloom,” the silver-haired child comforted him after hearing this. “They’re very beautiful. Maybe if you look at them, your mood will improve too.”

 

Perhaps when people are vulnerable, they are extremely easily moved by a word of care, especially when that caring word comes from the mouth of a young child he’d just met by chance, while his own father would never say such things.

 

Previously, Fu Yanxi wanted to become an Imperial general and a hero to the people, just like Fu Yingxuan.

 

But now, Fu Yanxi feared becoming the next Fu Yingxuan.

 

He didn’t understand, was Fu Yingxuan always like this?

 

Then why, in his grandparents’ words, was he once a son they were proud of? Why, in his mother’s words, was he once a husband she was proud of? Did the passing years change Fu Yingxuan? Or was it the cruelty of the border battlefield that changed Fu Yingxuan?

 

If it was the latter, what kind of person would he become if he went to that cruel border battlefield? And if he didn’t go, what kind of person would he become?

 

The young man, not yet grown up, could never find the answers, but his psychological state and physical training results kept getting worse day by day amidst these confused thoughts.

 

“My dream was once to become a soldier, to fight for the people and the Empire. But now… I find that I might not be able to do it anymore.”

 

Fu Yanxi slowly raised his head, gazing at the evening primrose bushes waiting for sunset in front of him, murmuring: “Today I can cheer up by watching flowers bloom, but what about tomorrow?”

 

Evening primroses can steadfastly bloom towards the direction of the silver moon.

 

But he couldn’t see clearly where his tomorrow, his future, was heading.

 

“I don’t know what my tomorrow will be like either, but I know why the evening primrose is the national flower of the Empire,” the silver-haired child then asked him, “Big brother, do you know?”

 

Of course Fu Yanxi knew, he said: “Because it symbolizes an ever-unyielding and free heart.”

 

This flower often grows on open, barren slopes by the roadside, naturally robust, cold-resistant, drought-resistant, tolerant of poor soil, able to survive almost anywhere on the ground, incredibly tenacious, so it’s honored as the national flower of the Galactic Empire.

 

The silver-haired child laughed softly: “Yes, as long as it can take root, sprout, and bloom, it’s a great life—no matter where this flower blooms.”

 

“The same goes for people.”

 

“The glory of the Galactic Empire doesn’t just shine on the border battlefield, just like there are still stars in the galactic halo at the very edge of the galaxy.”

 

The silver-haired child turned his head straight, facing in Fu Yanxi’s direction, and said frankly and firmly: “Big brother, I believe you’re the same—no matter where you ultimately choose to go.”

 

Before Fu Yanxi could be surprised that such a small child could say such a long string of profound words, he was slightly flushed by the silver-haired child’s undisguised praise at the end, stammering not very confidently: “Can I… can I really?”

 

He lowered his head again, looking at his callused hands.

 

But this time, Fu Yanxi saw the witness of years of unremitting struggle for his dream.

 

He looked back at the evening primrose bushes in front of him, took a deep breath, and closed his fingers: “I don’t know if I can do it… but I’ll try my best.”

 

The silver-haired child, however, said with certainty: “The gun calluses on your hands are thicker than my second brother’s, and he’s about your age. You’ve worked so hard, with your perseverance, you can definitely do it.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Fu Yanxi’s ears turned red, instinctively thanking him first, then realizing something seemed off, he looked up at the sunglasses on the silver-haired child’s face and said in bewilderment: “Wait, didn’t you say you… couldn’t see?”

 

“I never said that,” the silver-haired child flatly denied, “I just had eye surgery, and can’t be exposed to strong light, that’s why I’m wearing sunglasses.”

 

Fu Yanxi: “…”

 

The silver-haired child waved at him: “I think I hear the head nurse calling my name. I have to go, goodbye.”

 

Fu Yanxi also waved: “Good-goodbye.”

 

“By the way, can you tell me your name…”

 

But the white figure turned around after saying goodbye, moving swiftly and nimbly, disappearing around the corner of the path in just a few seconds, not even giving Fu Yanxi time to ask for a name. He could only sit back on the bench, waiting for the evening primroses to bloom.

 

Finally, when the first ray of sunset appeared from the clouds in the evening, the evening primroses unfurled their golden petals—in the night as light fell, they rose like a cluster of stars.

 

Fu Yanxi sat in that corner for several hours, only leaving when Fu Yingxuan’s deputy came to find him.

 

The next day, he came to the Military Medical Research Institute again, but didn’t visit Fu Yingxuan. Instead, he went to the corner of the garden full of evening primroses, hoping to try his luck and see if he could meet the silver-haired child again.

 

Unfortunately, this time, Fu Yanxi’s luck didn’t seem very good.

 

Unable to chance upon the child, he went to ask the nurses—

 

“A child with silver hair?”

 

“That’s the Third Highness.”

 

Fu Yanxi widened his eyes in surprise: “The Third Highness?!”

 

He felt a bit disappointed: “Then… can I see him again?”

 

The nurse looked troubled and helpless: “The Third Highness rarely leaves his room. Even when His Majesty, the Empress, and the Crown Princess come, they might not be able to see him, let alone…”

 

—The Third Highness isn’t someone you can see just because you want to.

 

The nurse certainly wouldn’t say the latter part out loud, but who wouldn’t understand the implication?

 

Fu Yanxi went to look at the patch of evening primroses one last time.

 

Amidst the waves of floral fragrance, Fu Yanxi looked up at the brilliant stars in the sky, his voice soft but firm: “I can definitely do it.”

 

He wanted to get into Anlos Military Academy, to join the army, to defend his country and people—this was his personal dream and pursuit. Along the way, he might feel lost and confused, but he would never give up. Even if he couldn’t get anyone’s care and attention on this path, he would still walk on steadfastly.

 

“His Highness was like the North Star guiding my way, leading me out of confusion, towards the place of light and glory,” Fu Yanxi said. “I’m very grateful to him, always hoping to do something for him, so when I heard the royal family was reorganizing the guard, I immediately signed up.”

 

“So Brother Xi, you met the Third Highness when you were young,” Ji Bai listened and looked at Fu Yanxi, his eyes now filled with envy and jealousy. “The Third Highness even called you ‘big brother’.”

 

Song Tingxiao, the younger Song brother, directly admitted: “I’m so jealous, I can’t even swallow my food.”

 

“Aren’t you all jealous?” He looked around at the other guards still eating in the cafeteria. “How can you still eat?”

 

Fu Yanxi comforted him: “There’s no need to be jealous. We can all see the Third Highness often now.”

 

Lu You hit the nail on the head, adding: “Song Tingxiao is jealous that the Third Highness called you ‘big brother’.”

 

“That is indeed something to be jealous about,” Fu Yanxi sighed. “The Third Highness insists on calling me that, I can’t control it.”

 

The guards: “…”

 

They really wanted to call Yu Chen to beat up Fu Yanxi again.

 

Thinking of this, Ji Bai stole a glance at Yu Chen, and found that Yu Chen completely ignored Fu Yanxi, continuing to eat his meal with a normal expression. He couldn’t help but marvel: Yu Chen truly deserved to be the only one in their class to score full marks in “War Psychology”, his psychological quality was indeed extraordinary.

 

He turned his gaze back and asked Gui Yan: “What about you, Brother Gui? Could it be that you’re like Brother Xi, having seen His Highness once when you were seventeen?”

 

“I’m because…”

 

Gui Yan had just started speaking when Ni Chun suddenly entered the cafeteria, telling Yu Chen that Yun Xunlan wanted to see him alone after he finished eating.

 

As soon as Ni Chun left after delivering the message, Fu Yanxi’s envious and jealous gaze immediately fell on Yu Chen.

 

Yu Chen lifted his eyelids, folded his arms and looked back at Fu Yanxi, his tone teasing: “What? Jealous of me?”

 

Fu Yanxi said nothing, but silently clenched his fist.

 

“You can say it directly, it’s okay. This is indeed something to be jealous about,” Yu Chen also sighed softly. “The Third Highness insists on seeing me alone, I can’t control it.”

 

Fu Yanxi clenched his fist even tighter, starting to make “crack crack” sounds.

 

Gui Yan quickly pressed on his right shoulder, reminding Fu Yanxi not to forget what he had said: “Brother Xi, love and care for each other, remember?”

 

Ji Bai also pressed on his left shoulder, earnestly advising: “Brother Xi, support each other, right?”

 

Fu Yanxi: “…”

 

No! He couldn’t love at all!

 

He was still so jealous!

 

He had only seen the Third Highness alone once, and that was when he was young. How many times had Yu Chen seen him alone now?

 

---