TCPUAAV Chapter 6

 

Two crescent moons hung in the misty sky, their hazy halos spreading out like oversized nightlights, illuminating the deep blue of the night.

 

In reality, these two moons were artificial lighting satellites named Golden Crow No. 1 and Lunar No. 2. During the day, they functioned as suns; at night, as moons.

 

The junk planet B3024 was far from the capital star Sikkim and lacked any naturally luminous stars. When it was first discovered, it was a pitch-dark, lifeless planet. However, due to the presence of a nearby wormhole connected to Sikkim that facilitated warp travel, it was designated as a satellite of the capital star, serving as a dumping ground for metal waste produced by Sikkim’s industries.

 

These waste materials were continuously dumped into the junkyards by transport ships and then processed at the Energy Conversion Center, converting them into a steady stream of energy to be distributed elsewhere.

 

This was all Rong Heng knew about the planet from his memories: remote, barren, desolate.

 

But the reality was different. In addition to the original Energy Conversion Center and the staff assigned there, the planet was home to a significant population of undocumented people.

 

These gray-market inhabitants lived on the outskirts of the junkyards like mice, passing their lives from one generation to the next. Without identity cards, they left no trace in the vast Galactic Empire.

 

This overturned Rong Heng’s previous understanding.

 

Quietly getting up, Rong Heng glanced at the boy sleeping beside him.

 

Ruan Shiqing lay curled on his side, his legs slightly bent—an instinctive posture of someone lacking a sense of security. Rong Heng also knew there was a sharp-tipped metal rod hidden under the boy’s pillow.

 

This planet still adhered to the primal and brutal law of the jungle.

 

It reminded him of something his mother had once told him.

 

She had said the empire hid many corners she couldn’t see, and as its queen, she wanted to see further.

 

At the time, he had been just a cub and didn’t fully understand her words.

 

But after spending several days and nights on B3024, he now grasped their meaning deeply.

 

He took one last look at the sleeping boy before quietly stepping outside. In the moonlight, his shadow gradually elongated and twisted until it transformed into the silhouette of a tall man.

 

As his body shifted, the treated wound on his abdomen throbbed slightly. Rong Heng frowned and pressed against it to ensure it hadn’t reopened, then disappeared into the darkness like a shadow.

 

As an adult Ymir, Rong Heng moved with incredible speed. On this technologically backward planet, no one could detect his presence.

 

After swiftly traversing the outer city, Rong Heng arrived at the edge of the inner city.

 

The first thing he saw was a towering structure that seemed to reach the heavens—the Energy Conversion Center, the core of the entire inner city.

 

Unlike the outer city’s chaos and squalor, the inner city was clean and orderly. Its zones were neatly divided, its buildings aligned, and its streets wide. The city walls were equipped with the latest R-series Bee-Eye surveillance cameras.

 

It was a completely different world.

 

Originally, the inner city had been built as housing for the families of staff working at the Energy Conversion Center. Over the years, while undocumented people filled the once-desolate junk planet, the Energy Conversion Center had become a symbol of power and status on B3024. The walls bristling with Bee-Eye cameras segregated two starkly contrasting worlds: the chaos of the outer city and the order of the inner city.

 

Rong Heng sneered softly and effortlessly avoided the cameras, slipping into the inner city.

 

He randomly chose the most luxurious house, entered it silently, and found the owner fast asleep in the bedroom. The smart brain console in the living room was left on, resting casually on the coffee table. Its last browsed interface was still open.

 

Walking closer, Rong Heng saw it was a news article about him, with a sensational headline:

 

“Imperial Crown Prince Killed in Attack; Royal Bloodline Ends—Is the Galactic Empire Doomed?”

 

The article was accompanied by related recommendations, all with titles like, “Crown Prince Attacked: High Officials Held Accountable” and “Empire in Chaos: Collapse Imminent.” Familiar names flashed before Rong Heng’s eyes as he skimmed through the news, his gaze growing colder.

 

Just as he was about to close the page, a newly pushed article caught his attention.

 

“Regent Takes Charge Amid Crisis: Will He Ascend the Throne?”

 

His finger hesitated for a moment before he clicked on it.

 

The article, published by the Sikkim Daily, was brief and to the point. It summarized the internal turmoil caused by the Crown Prince’s assassination before pivoting to discuss the legitimacy of the Regent’s potential ascension to the throne.

 

Rong Heng stared at the article for a long time, committing every word to memory.

 

The Sikkim Daily was a royal enterprise. No news about the royal family could be released without the royal court’s approval. His mother, Queen Farah, had long since sacrificed herself on the front lines, and Rong Heng had severed all ties with Sikkim after the attack. The only person who could authorize this news to test public opinion was his father, the Regent.

 

“So, it’s you…”

 

The memory of the Battle of Baghdad surged vividly, the sound of explosions echoing in his ears, and his abdominal wound throbbed painfully. Rong Heng pressed on it hard, using the pain to clear his mind. He calmly shut down the smart brain interface and left as silently as he had arrived.

 

After mapping out the layout of the inner city, Rong Heng prepared to return.

 

As he passed by a school zone, he paused, recalling what he’d overheard earlier in the day. Without much hesitation, he slipped inside…

 

The next morning, soft light streamed through the skylight, waking Ruan Shiqing. He yawned and lazily got out of bed.

 

“09, what time is it?”

 

“Good morning, sir. It’s 8:15 a.m.,” replied the little robot from the corner.

 

“That’s early,” Ruan Shiqing mumbled, reaching over to pick up the pup.

 

Rong Heng opened one eye to glance at him before drooping his eyelids again—he was growing immune to the boy’s intrusive habits.

 

However, Ruan Shiqing felt something was off when the pup didn’t respond as energetically as usual. Flipping him over out of habit to check his wound, Ruan Shiqing was startled to see the bandaged wound had reopened. Blood had seeped out, matting the surrounding fur.

 

No wonder the pup seemed lethargic—it was probably in pain.

 

Ruan Shiqing didn’t stop to wonder why the wound had reopened. He carefully placed the pup back in its nest and hurriedly fetched disinfectant and ointment, his brow furrowed with worry as he treated the injury.

 

His movements were gentle as he cleaned the clotted fur and blew softly on the wound, his expression more pained than the pup’s.

 

Initially indifferent, Rong Heng began to feel a pang of guilt. After the boy finished treating his wound, Rong Heng hesitated before awkwardly leaning his head over to nudge the boy’s arm.

 

Don’t worry. I’m not in pain.

 

“From now on, you’re not allowed to move around,” Ruan Shiqing said sternly.

 

Ruan Shiqing felt a pang of guilt. He blamed himself for the pup’s wound reopening, thinking it must have happened because he had shifted too much in his sleep. If he had been more careful and kept the pup in his arms, preventing it from moving, it wouldn’t have had to endure such unnecessary pain.

 

Still feeling guilty, Rong Heng didn’t dare to move. He obediently lay back in his nest, pretending to be well-behaved.

 

Seeing Ruan Shiqing’s face still clouded with worry, Rong Heng glanced at the stack of books he’d brought back, which had so far gone unnoticed. Making up his mind, he reached out with a paw and tapped the pile.

 

Look, a gift!

 

“What’s this?” As expected, Ruan Shiqing’s attention was drawn to the books. He widened his eyes in disbelief, picking up the stack and flipping through them. Although he couldn’t read the text, the illustrations made it clear that these were exactly the kinds of books he needed.

 

“Where did these come from?” Questions swirled in Ruan Shiqing’s mind, but his excitement and curiosity got the better of him. Hugging the little robot close, he eagerly asked, “Can you translate these?”

 

“Of course, sir,” the robot replied, as polite as ever despite its shabby appearance. The scanning light swept over the books, and it read out the titles: Your First Galactic Common Language Learning Book, A Brief History of Galactic Empire Technology, Learn to Be a Master Mechanic in 100 Days, The Mechanic’s Handbook, and so on.

 

Eight books in total—all precisely what Ruan Shiqing needed.

 

At first, he thought the Xiong brothers might have found the books for him. But remembering how they’d said it was impossible just the day before, he ruled them out.

 

Turning toward the pup in the nest, he shook the books in his hand. “Did you see who brought these?”

 

I did. It was me.

 

Rong Heng gave him a sidelong glance, gradually growing more self-assured. Resting his head on his paws, he silently stared back, not deigning to respond.

 

After all, who would suspect an injured cub?

 

Seeing the pup’s ‘What are you talking about? I don’t understand’ expression, Ruan Shiqing realized further questioning would be pointless.

 

Whoever had brought these books—and for whatever purpose—hadn’t shown any malice so far. If the benefactor eventually came asking for a favor, Ruan Shiqing would repay this kindness then.

 

With his thoughts settled, Ruan Shiqing accepted the books without hesitation.

 

His excitement barely contained, he quickly ate a nutritional supplement, grabbed the little robot, and began laboriously working through Your First Galactic Common Language Learning Book.

 

For the entire day, he immersed himself in the books. Aside from taking brief breaks to share a nutritional supplement with the pup, he barely moved from his spot.

 

Had it not been for the next day’s auction, Rong Heng suspected Ruan Shiqing would have stayed up all night reading.

 

Indeed, Ruan Shiqing was reluctant to put the books down. As a researcher, curiosity and a drive to explore were second nature. Before, circumstances hadn’t allowed him to indulge in his curiosity, but now, someone had laid out a piece of this new world for him to study. The temptation was nearly irresistible.

 

Fortunately, his remaining rationality stopped him. Closing the book with care, he set it aside in a corner. Turning to lie down, he pulled the pup, nest and all, into his arms and closed his eyes, murmuring softly, “Time to sleep.”

 

Trapped in his arms, Rong Heng shifted uncomfortably but ultimately stayed still.

 

It’s just sleeping. Nothing to fuss about.

 

The next day, before dawn, the Xiong brothers came to wake Ruan Shiqing.

 

Xiong Yuanyuan crouched stealthily at the door, holding a large cloth sack and calling for him like a thief.

 

Half-asleep, Ruan Shiqing sat up, and the memory of the day’s plans jolted him awake. After a quick wash and a hasty gathering of supplies, he tucked the pup into his coat and stepped outside into the dim morning light.

 

They retrieved the hidden engine and drive and packed them securely. Once back, Ruan Shiqing managed to squeeze in some time to read before heading to the Subterranean Market.

 

This time, the Xiong brothers led him through a different route, revealing that the market had multiple entrances. Like a sprawling underground palace, the market was a maze of interconnected tunnels. The passage Ruan Shiqing had found earlier was merely one of its less conspicuous entries.

 

The auction drew a sizable crowd, making the market even livelier than usual.

 

The three of them, carrying an inconspicuous cloth sack, blended in without attracting any attention.

 

Following protocol, they paid their fees and received masks, cloaks, and a black box. After donning their disguises, they entered the auction hall.

 

The hall was another subterranean chamber, even larger and more magnificent than the market. In the grand central space, 24 stone pillars stood in a neat arrangement, exuding an imposing aura. At the very center was a raised circular auction platform, surrounded by tiered seating that radiated outward like ripples.

 

The three of them found seats at random and waited for the auction to begin.

 

The auction was divided into two parts. The first part was a fixed auction, featuring pre-announced items. The second part was the true free auction, where participants could put up any items deemed valuable.

 

It was for this second part that Ruan Shiqing had come.

 

 

 

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Aww our lil cub is already working hard for his future hubby lol! Though I feel sad for the late Queen, her husband sure doesn’t seem like a nice guy…

 

Thanks for reading!