TCPUAAV Chapter 32

 

 

When Rong Heng returned to his bedroom, he didn’t rest as he had claimed he would.

 

Instead, he sat on the balcony, gazing silently at the night sky, letting his thoughts wander.

 

The night in Sikkim was entirely different from that on B3024.

 

Sikkim, the Imperial capital planet, was what it was precisely because of its resemblance to the Empire’s original homeworld.

 

It orbited a star, slowly rotating, accompanied by natural satellites that revolved around it.

 

One revolution[mfn]I have no idea if it’s meant to be rotation?[/mfn] around the star marked a year; one rotation on its axis marked a day.

 

The seasons shifted naturally, and day alternated with night.

 

On such a planet, you could see the stars.

 

Above him stretched a vast curtain of darkness, dotted with countless shining stars.

 

But B3024 was far from any star. Its extreme climate had been forcibly transformed by the Empire’s colonial troops to make it habitable.

 

The Golden Crow I and Lunar I systems created artificial day and night cycles. Though the year was divided into four seasons, the entire planet’s climate was controlled by human intervention. Cold or warmth, light or darkness, wind or rain—all were distributed on demand.

 

On such a planet, you couldn’t see the stars.

 

It was a monotonous, unromantic, and desolate world.

 

Yet now, sitting under Sikkim’s starry sky, Rong Heng found himself wondering: among the countless beams of starlight traveling across the universe, could one of them have originated from B3024, traveled millions of light-years, and finally reached his eyes?

 

According to the galactic calendar, he had only left B3024 three days ago.

 

But in truth, he already missed its unchanging, tranquil life.

 

He mimicked Ruan Shiqing’s habits—changing into soft, comfortable sleepwear and sitting quietly in the night breeze, hoping for a sliver of inner peace.

 

But it was futile.

 

With a self-deprecating smile, Rong Heng picked up the smart brain device resting nearby and headed back indoors.

 

The device’s communication request indicator had been flashing for some time.

 

Changing into his crisp, formal military uniform, Rong Heng finally accepted the call.

 

A virtual projection filled the room, revealing an elderly man with snow-white hair who bowed respectfully. “Congratulations on your safe return, Your Highness.”

 

“Lucien,” Rong Heng said, his tone sharp. “How did you know I’ve arrived in Sikkim?”

 

Seated arrogantly, he crossed his long legs, resting his elbows on the armrests and interlocking his fingers into a tower-like shape. The rigid military uniform emphasized his imposing demeanor, making his sharp features seem even more stern.

 

“The Bai Pao Council[mfn]Okay, so they’re basically a protestant church??? They’re technically called the White Aligned Presbyterianism but honestly it’s way too long of a title so I just kept the pinyin instead[/mfn] remains loyal to Her Majesty the Queen. We have our ways of tracking your movements,” Lucien replied with a slight bow. “Rest assured, Your Highness, your arrival in Sikkim is known only to me.”

 

The Bai Pao Council was a secret organization established during Queen Farah’s reign.

 

Composed of only thirteen members, each an elite in their respective fields, the council operated independently of the Imperial Parliament and answered solely to the queen.

 

Rong Heng knew that his mother had formed the Bai Pao Council as the first step toward reforming the Empire.

 

Unfortunately, a sudden Zerg swarm outbreak in the Yanji District had forced her back to the battlefield to stabilize morale. She was ambushed and gravely injured during the campaign, ultimately sacrificing her life.

 

At the time, Rong Heng had barely been ten years old, still in the fragile stage of his Ymirian cubhood.

 

His mother’s sudden death left her plans incomplete, including her authority and influence, which were never fully passed on to him—among them, the Bai Pao Council.

 

Afterward, Siyan, as her consort, assumed regency and managed the Empire’s affairs. Meanwhile, Rong Heng, upon reaching adolescence, went to Yanji to fight the Zerg.

 

Lucien had maintained sporadic contact with him, but their relationship was fraught with mutual distrust.

 

The Bai Pao Council might have once been loyal to Queen Farah, but there was no guarantee it was still loyal to him.

 

“I don’t appreciate my movements being monitored, Lucien,” Rong Heng said, leaning forward slightly. His tone grew heavier, and his golden eyes glinted coldly.

 

“I meant no offense, Your Highness, but the situation is urgent,” Lucien said, bowing even lower. His age was apparent; his body seemed frail, and he coughed twice before clearing his throat and continuing. “The coronation is in three days. The Council advises Your Highness not to appear publicly and to observe the situation first.”

 

“Reason?”

 

Rong Heng arched his brow. The Council’s suggestion aligned with his own plans. He tapped his thumbs together thoughtfully.

 

“Sikkim’s current situation is… unusual,” Lucien explained. “According to our intelligence, the four major conglomerates and the Regent will finalize some kind of transaction during the coronation. We don’t know the specifics, but our agents have discovered something troubling: the presence of ‘Death Troopers’ in Palka Palace.”

 

Rong Heng’s expression darkened. Death Troopers.

 

These were the products of forbidden human experimentation—bodies of ancient humans modified into half-mechanical beings. Immortal and extraordinarily powerful, they had no self-awareness and obeyed only the commands of their control chips.

 

Such experiments had been explicitly outlawed by Imperial law.

 

The mere presence of Death Troopers in Palka Palace during such a sensitive time, with the four conglomerate heads gathered, indicated that something was gravely amiss.

 

To recklessly involve himself now would be unwise.

 

Rong Heng’s eyes narrowed. So this was Siyan’s trump card.

 

From the moment he read the Sikkim Daily’s reports, Rong Heng had sensed something off.

 

The four major conglomerates—Naxi Group, Quark Dockyards, Planck Energy, and Schwarz Transport—controlled the Empire’s economic lifelines. Though they appeared to stay out of politics, their leaders wielded enormous influence.

 

His mother had managed to suppress them during her reign through sheer strength and iron-fisted methods.

 

What was Siyan relying on to command their cooperation now?

 

It certainly wasn’t Siyan’s new father-in-law, Old Bart from Naxi Group. That man didn’t have the capability to unite the other three conglomerates.

 

Something else was at play here—something hidden.

 

And now, it seemed the Death Troopers were part of it.

 

Over a century ago, the Death Troopers had made their first appearance. The rapid decline in the ancient human population could be traced back to that era, when many lower-class ancient humans were persecuted and sacrificed as test subjects.

 

When the experiments were exposed, the Death Troopers were destroyed, and the Empire passed strict laws banning human experimentation.

 

This was why his mother had devoted her life to advancing racial equality—because the sealed records of that era were filled with horrors too atrocious to ignore.

 

According to his mother, even his grandmother had been a victim of the Death Trooper experiments. His grandfather, a mighty Ymir, had died prematurely, also connected to those atrocities.

 

Taking a deep breath, Rong Heng lowered his gaze, his thoughts turbulent.

 

“What does the Council intend to do?”

 

Lucien shook his head and replied gravely, “It’s not about what the Council intends to do. The question is: what does Your Highness intend to do?”

 

With deliberate slowness, he said, “Years ago, we followed Queen Farah for a shared dream. But after her death, with Your Highness still unready, the Council nearly disbanded. We persevered until now, waiting to ask: are you willing to inherit the Queen’s legacy and lead us to fulfill that dream?”

 

Rong Heng’s lips curled slightly in disdain. “My mother’s legacy is forever in my heart. But tell me, what dream does the Council uphold?”

 

Unperturbed by the cold response, Lucien asked instead, “Your Highness, do you know why Queen Farah gave you her own surname, ‘Rong,’ instead of your father’s or ‘Ymir’?”

 

Rong Heng remained silent.

 

He didn’t know. He had always assumed his surname reflected his mother’s commitment to racial equality.

 

But if that were the case, she could have given him his father’s surname.

 

Seeing his silence, Lucien explained, “It’s because the name ‘Ymir’ represents the royal family. From the beginning, Her Majesty never intended for you to inherit the throne.”

 

“My mother had only one child—me. Who else would inherit the throne?” Rong Heng scoffed.

 

“Why must there even be an inheritance?” Lucien countered.

 

For a moment, his aged eyes gleamed with wisdom as he stared directly at Rong Heng. “How long has the galaxy existed? How long has the Galactic Empire existed? The Empire wasn’t always here. It’s only been around for just over two thousand years, and yet it’s already rotten to its core. What’s worth inheriting?”

 

Overcome with emotion, Lucien coughed again but pressed on vehemently. “Was Her Majesty not wise enough? Yet even she couldn’t save this decaying Empire and instead fell in the darkness before dawn!”

 

“This nation doesn’t need a great emperor. It needs a revolution!”

 

Revolution.

 

To seek the happiness of civilization, one must endure its pain.

 

And that pain is revolution.

 

“The Empire will perish. Only the galaxy will endure,” Lucien declared, kneeling on one knee in a gesture of allegiance. “The time has come. Only by cutting away the rot and healing the wounds can we save this nation. This is the dream shared by Queen Farah and the Council.”

 

The elderly man bowed his head, every word piercing the heart with its raw intensity.

 

Rong Heng’s expression shifted.

 

So this was the dream his mother had never voiced.

 

She had left too soon—he had never truly come to understand her.

 

“What do you want to do?” Rong Heng stood, his casual demeanor replaced with seriousness.

 

“Watch the tigers fight and the mantis catch the cicada[mfn]So it’s a fancy way to say that it’s better to observe from the lines and let their enemies take out each other[/mfn],” Lucien replied. “Sikkim is in turmoil. If Your Highness reveals yourself now, it will only unite your enemies against you. Instead, conserve your strength, rally allies, and strike when the time is right.”

 

Rong Heng nodded slightly. This aligned with his own thoughts.

 

Sikkim was a tempestuous sea; it was better to remain in the shadows and observe the storm.

 

“I agree.”

 

Lucien let out a breath of relief, though he hesitated before adding, “There is one more matter that requires Your Highness’ assistance.”

 

?

 

“Just formed an alliance, and now you want to boss me around?”

 

Rong Heng frowned. “Tell me what this is about first.”

 

“After the coronation ceremony, Brigadier General Hector will be secretly transferred to Sijialan Star for execution. If possible, we hope Your Highness can intervene to save him.”

 

“Hector? Didn’t he die on the Otah frontlines?”

 

If he remembered correctly, Hector’s followers had even held a grand memorial for him on the holo-net.

 

“That was merely a fabricated story,” Lucien explained. “Brigadier General Hector apparently uncovered some kind of secret about Sijialan Star. To silence him, Sijialan Star fabricated his death on Otah. In truth, he was ambushed and is now being held in a secret prison. Once the coronation is over, he’ll be sent to Sijialan Star for execution.”

 

“The Dragon Clan doesn’t know about this?”

 

Hector was a dragon. While the four ancient clans often clashed, even the Dragons—with their internal power struggles—wouldn’t stand by and let Sijialan Star humiliate one of their own like this.

 

Lucien coughed awkwardly. “Your Highness might not know this, but Hector was exiled from the Dragon Clan over a century ago. He and the current clan leader are mortal enemies; their relationship is… tense.”

 

“Tense” was putting it mildly.

 

In reality, the two couldn’t be in the same room without trying to tear each other apart. If not for Sikkim’s strict laws against violent public brawls, they would’ve leveled entire cities by now. The conflict only eased after Hector was deployed to the Otah frontlines.

 

Ironically, when Hector’s “funeral” was held, the Dragon Clan leader had even made a rare appearance.

 

“Send me the flight route and ship details. I’ll handle it after the coronation.”

 

Hector was powerful, and recruiting him could only be advantageous. Rong Heng agreed without hesitation.

 

After cutting off the communication, Rong Heng massaged his temples in exhaustion and prepared to rest.

 

Before lying down, he hesitated, then changed back into his sleepwear.

 

The soft fabric reminded him of the peace and stillness of B3024.

 

*

 

Days passed, and still, there was no news of Snowball.

 

Ruan Shiqing’s last shred of hope was extinguished, leaving him visibly disheartened.

 

The cubs, sensitive to his mood, became increasingly cautious around him. They no longer played freely in the yard or sought his attention as openly as before. Even their usual affectionate gestures were now timid and restrained.

 

One day, as Ruan Shiqing stepped out of his workshop, he caught a glimpse of a flash of red disappearing around a corner.

 

Nota?

 

Curious, he walked toward the yard and saw the three cubs playing by the pool.

 

The little mermaid was sunbathing on the water’s surface, while the little dragon cub crouched by the pool, spraying water at the fox cub. The fox cub, in a fit of rage, lunged at him and knocked him into the water…

 

It all seemed perfectly normal.

 

But remembering the shadow he’d just seen, Ruan Shiqing suddenly realized something was off.

 

Frowning slightly, he pretended to return to his workshop but instead quietly hid by the window to observe.

 

As soon as he left, the playful noises stopped abruptly.

 

The little dragon cub climbed out of the water and lay on the edge of the pool, the little mermaid flopped beside him, and the fox cub perched on the armrest of a wicker chair.

 

The three cubs exchanged glances, their expressions downcast.

 

The lively play had all been a performance for his sake.

 

“When will Daddy cheer up? Can’t Heli replace Snowball?” the little dragon cub asked gloomily.

 

“You’re you, and Snowball is Snowball. It’s not the same,” the fox cub replied with surprising clarity.

 

The little mermaid let out a soft “Ah” of agreement, shaking his head as he gently patted the sulking dragon cub.

 

The three of them sat in silence, unable to come up with any ideas, looking utterly dejected.

 

Ruan Shiqing recalled how the cubs had become unusually well-behaved over the past few days, even the typically reckless Heli.

 

He realized with a pang of guilt that he had been so consumed by his own emotions that he had overlooked their struggles.

 

To him, Snowball wasn’t just a pet. Snowball was as much a part of the family as the cubs—perhaps even more so, given the special bond they had formed when he first arrived on B3024. Snowball had been his sole companion during those early, lonely days on the unfamiliar planet.

 

Losing Snowball was devastating, but that didn’t excuse neglecting the other cubs.

 

Determined to make amends, Ruan Shiqing stepped back into the yard, this time deliberately softening his footsteps. The cubs, lost in their thoughts, didn’t notice him until it was too late to pretend.

 

“Daddy wants to talk with you,” Ruan Shiqing said, picking up the fox cub and pulling a wicker chair closer to the pool. He sat down, clearly intent on having a heartfelt conversation.

 

The dragon cub immediately perked up, sitting upright with his tiny wings fluttering energetically. The little mermaid propped himself up on his tail, “standing” beside him, while the fox cub hopped down to sit between them.

 

All three looked incredibly well-behaved.

 

Unable to resist, Ruan Shiqing ruffled each of their heads in turn.

 

“These past few days, Daddy has been at fault,” he admitted gently. “I was so worried about Snowball that I ignored your feelings.”

 

“I’ll do better from now on. We’ll keep looking for Snowball, but I want you to be just as carefree and happy as you used to be. Okay?”

 

The cubs’ childhoods should be filled with joy, not overshadowed by sadness.

 

Notta tilted her head, hesitating before asking, “But Daddy won’t be sad anymore?”

 

The dragon cub and the little mermaid looked up at him eagerly.

 

“I won’t be sad,” Ruan Shiqing promised. “Because I know we’ll find Snowball, whether sooner or later. Until then, Daddy needs to take good care of you.”

 

He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the three cubs in a tight hug.

 

The cubs snuggled into his embrace, their spirits lifted.

 

The dragon cub regained his usual energy, chirping, “Heli will take care of Daddy too!”

 

“Alright,” Ruan Shiqing replied with a smile.

 

After their talk, Ruan Shiqing visited the inner city mall and spent a significant sum on fresh ingredients.

 

When the delivery arrived, he personally cooked a feast for the cubs.

 

In the interstellar era, fresh ingredients were a luxury reserved for the wealthy. Most people, including them until recently, relied on nutrient solutions.

 

Feeling the need to make up for his neglect, Ruan Shiqing put extra care into preparing the meal.

 

For the first time, the cubs tasted food cooked by their dad, and they couldn’t stop eating. Even the typically reserved little mermaid ended up with grease smudged around his mouth.

 

When Ruan Shiqing wiped his mouth with a napkin, the little mermaid stared blankly at the stained fabric before his pale cheeks flushed pink. His ear fins folded shyly.

 

Having grease on my mouth is so unbecoming… but Daddy wiping my mouth makes me so happy.

 

The little mermaid wagged his tail, smiling sweetly.

 

Seeing this, the dragon cub immediately shouted, “Daddy, wipe my mouth too!”

 

Nota, initially embarrassed by her unladylike behavior, quickly chimed in, “Nota wants her mouth wiped too!”

 

Both cubs tilted their faces up, their mouths similarly covered in grease.

 

Ruan Shiqing chuckled, wiping each of their mouths in turn.

 

By the end of the meal, the table was completely cleared.

 

The dragon cub flopped onto a cushion, limbs spread out, his belly round and full. He let out a satisfied belch.

 

The little mermaid lay by the edge of his water tank, wagging his tail to digest the extra food.

 

Nota, glancing between them, decided to join the dragon cub on the cushion, reasoning that it was fine to relax at home.

 

After all, Daddy would love her no matter what.

 

*

 

Thanks to Mo Li’s connections, the cubs’ ID cards were soon completed.

 

Ruan Shiqing personally visited Fragrance Tower Manor with a stack of blueprints—both to collect the IDs and to propose another business deal.

 

Lately, Mo Li had grown even more enthusiastic, likely due to his guilty conscience about the Crown Prince. Ruan Shiqing, now accustomed to his excessive hospitality, simply accepted it as normal.

 

After pocketing the ID cards, he opened his briefcase and pulled out a set of blueprints.

 

Mo Li initially thought they were designs for a new weapon. But after studying them for a moment, he exclaimed in surprise, “This is… a counter-surveillance device?”

 

“Correct.” Ruan Shiqing sipped his tea and said, “It’s still in the conceptual phase, and refining it will take some time. But I thought you might find it useful.”

 

With the first batch of energy blasters already in production, the weapons would soon be shipped to other planets for sale. Small-scale operations might go unnoticed at first, but as the business grew, it was inevitable that the monopolistic weapons manufacturers would take notice.

 

At that point, even remote B3024 would come under scrutiny.

 

Ruan Shiqing had already researched the market: nearly all military spacecraft, vehicles, robots, and weaponry in the Empire were controlled by Naxi Group and Quark Dockyards, while energy resources and transportation were monopolized by Planck Energy and Schwarz Transport Company.

 

These four conglomerates, with their countless subsidiaries, dominated the industry. Smaller competitors were either absorbed or crushed.

 

Without the strength to challenge them directly, the only option was to operate discreetly and stay hidden.

 

“My current design allows this counter-surveillance device to be installed on transport ships or integrated into B3024’s satellite system as a first line of defense. It can neutralize 90% of cloaking devices.”

 

Cloaking devices—or, more technically, sensor jammers—were essential in the space age, where advanced vehicles relied on sensors and scanners for navigation and combat. These devices disrupted electronic detection systems, rendering objects effectively invisible.

 

Ruan Shiqing’s system was designed to detect such cloaked objects.

 

His personal motivation for developing it, however, was to ensure that if a certain someone returned to B3024 with a cloaked ship, he would know immediately.

 

Of course, this little secret didn’t need to be shared with Mo Li.

 

As for integrating the system into B3024’s satellites, that would require Mo Li to negotiate with the inner city.

 

 

 

---

 

Just a little note regarding Mo Li, I kept the name as Mo Li because we know it’s not “Marlin”, but in Ruan Shiqing’s POV, it’s actually written “Marlin” in the raws, since he doesn’t know that he’s been replaced. I wanted to avoid the confusion, but keep that in mind ^^

 

This chapter was quite bittersweet. Not sure how to feel T_T

 

Thanks for reading!

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