Chapter 212
The forest of peach blossoms stretched for miles, the trees blooming even more vividly than before. A gentle breeze swept through, scattering pale pink petals in a mesmerizing rain.
It was impossible to tell how much time had passed.
Su Ci reclined lazily in A-Yan’s arms, the blush on his face fading slightly. His pale golden hair, glowing faintly as if kissed by sunlight, radiated a beauty more intoxicating than the blossoms around them.
His robes were disheveled, loosely draped over him, barely covering the porcelain white of his skin beneath. His long legs bent slightly, causing the soft silk fabric to slip further down, revealing glimpses of dazzlingly fair skin.
Unaware of the sight he presented, his bare feet rested lightly on the green grass, offering even more of the enchanting view.
A-Yan stared at him for a moment, unable to look away. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he pulled the robe up, covering him.
Noticing his movements, Su Ci lazily lifted his eyes to meet A-Yan’s gaze, the youth’s inverted face filling his view.
Disheveled and barefoot, Su Ci looked every bit the opposite of A-Yan, who was immaculate in his appearance. His platinum hair was neatly tied back with a jade crown, and his ancient-style robes, perfectly tailored to his frame, enhanced his noble, striking demeanor.
For a fleeting moment, Su Ci felt as though he had truly been transported back to a bygone era.
But then again, for beings like them, did it even matter whether something was real or not?
“You’ve already stared, kissed, and even…” Su Ci’s gaze fell on A-Yan’s slightly reddened lips. He paused for a moment before continuing, “…so why bother covering me now?”
A-Yan’s hands, which had been adjusting his robe, froze briefly before resuming their task as if nothing had happened.
If he didn’t cover him, he feared he might lose control.
Yet the silky fabric refused to cooperate. Every slight movement from Su Ci caused it to slip again, rendering A-Yan’s efforts futile.
Irritated by his fidgeting, Su Ci casually waved a hand, and a pair of undergarments lying nearby flew into his grasp. Just as he was about to put them on, a hand suddenly reached out and grasped his slender wrist.
He blinked, looking up at A-Yan.
A-Yan’s gaze flickered, his ears turning a deep red. Even so, with unwavering determination, he took the snow-white undergarments from Su Ci’s hand and flung them far away.
Su Ci shot him a glance, clicking his tongue in mild annoyance.
A-Yan’s ears seemed to redden even further. He cleared his throat, as though about to speak, but ultimately said nothing.
In the end, he thought to himself, This is fine as it is.
A breeze swept through, scattering peach blossoms once more in a gentle cascade.
Su Ci’s attention was momentarily drawn away. As he gazed at the peach blossom forest, identical to the one in his memories, he felt a subtle shift in his emotions.
After a moment of silence, he spoke softly, “The next time I see a peach blossom forest, I’ll probably think of today.”
A-Yan hadn’t expected such words, and his heart filled with joy, knowing his efforts hadn’t been in vain.
However, there wasn’t much delight in Su Ci’s languid tone, which made A-Yan feel a twinge of unease.
“How do you feel about today?” A-Yan asked cautiously.
He hadn’t forgotten Su Ci’s earlier anger when they first entered the illusion. Even though the tension seemed to have dissipated, he didn’t dare let his guard down. The last thing he wanted was for Su Su to push him away again.
Su Ci tilted his head up, lying in the shadow cast by A-Yan’s figure. Although A-Yan’s face was backlit, his platinum eyes were clear, filled with a tentative nervousness.
A moment ago, he had been so bold and unrestrained, yet now he looked as innocent as could be, as though he were the one being taken advantage of.
Su Ci knew this demeanor was probably an act, but he couldn’t help feeling a little soft-hearted.
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he raised his hand to A-Yan’s cheek, letting his thumb lightly graze the youth’s lips, which were still slightly red and swollen. “What about you? Are you uncomfortable?”
A-Yan froze briefly before a warm smile spread across his face. Tilting his head, he pressed his cheek closer to Su Ci’s palm, radiating joy like a dog being petted as a reward.
“Of course not,” he murmured, his gaze full of affection. “The more, the better.”
Su Ci was momentarily dazzled by his smile.
Clicking his tongue, he said, “A mouth is for eating, not this.”
“Mm, I—”
Before A-Yan could finish, Su Ci was suddenly overcome with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. He slapped a hand over A-Yan’s mouth and glared at him. “Enough. Don’t say another word.”
A-Yan stopped obediently, his innocent gaze fixed on Su Ci.
The two of them remained locked in a silent stare. Neither moved, but as A-Yan’s breathing grew heavier, Su Ci could feel the heat of his palm intensify. The warmth seemed to flow straight from his hand into his chest, spreading a strange and inexplicable heat within him.
Something between them had shifted.
Su Ci was aware of the change, though he couldn’t fully comprehend it. The only thing he knew for certain was that he felt truly happy in this moment.
As time stretched on, the nature of their gaze gradually changed. At some point, Su Ci broke the spell, averting his eyes and withdrawing his hand.
A-Yan felt a flicker of disappointment but reminded himself to be patient.
The next moment, however, Su Ci looped an arm around his neck and tugged him downward. A-Yan was caught off guard, forced to lean closer as Su Ci, still nestled in his embrace, lifted himself up.
Their lips met, and this time, it was Su Ci who initiated the kiss.
A-Yan froze for a split second, then couldn’t help but curve his lips into a faint smile. He returned the kiss gently, refraining from the earlier eagerness to claim. Instead, he coaxed Su Ci’s tongue into his own domain, drawing him in with a subtle yet deliberate pull.
Their lips and teeth intertwined, pale golden and platinum hair tangling together.
Su Ci’s loosely draped robe slipped off one shoulder, and he guided A-Yan’s slightly calloused palm deeper beneath the fabric…
He loved kissing A-Yan and loved doing other things with him.
Peach blossoms continued to fall, and the increasingly lush vegetation grew to obscure their entwined figures.
*
Base. 5
After resting, the cubs, led by the base commander Chui Le, toured the base.
Of course, their exploration was confined to within the base’s perimeter. With tight military defenses, even if monsters managed to breach, they would be swiftly eliminated. However, after planting the purification grass, the base had become significantly more peaceful.
The cubs were quite pleased with the greenbelts lining the roads.
This base had kept its promise—high praise!
Seeing their satisfaction, Chui Le’s smile grew even kinder. He asked if the children would like to stay for lunch.
“Thank you, Uncle, but we’ll head back to eat,” Lang Ze was the first to respond.
While they enjoyed touring and receiving gifts from the bases, they preferred to return to the Nursery center for meals. No matter how good the base’s food might be, it couldn’t compare to the dishes prepared by Brother A-Yan or even by Mommy Yan Ya and Wen Wen. Meals made with care simply surpassed anything a food processor could produce.
The other cubs nodded in agreement.
Chui Le assumed they planned to eat on the ship and felt it would be an oversight not to properly host these young warriors.
Just two days ago, the Cub Squad had officially passed its review and was formally established. These children—none older than their early teens—were now recognized as a legitimate junior corps.
While there had been historical precedents for junior corps during times of national crisis, such practices were abolished after the founding of the Star Alliance.
Military academies across the Star Alliance only accepted adult students aged 18 or older, and the military recruited exclusively from these academies. The participation of minors in military service had long been eliminated.
However, the cubs from the Nursery center were an exception. Their achievements were so extraordinary that to deny them recognition would have been unacceptable. Thus, the Cub Squad was born.
On the day of its establishment, these children were automatically granted military status. Their victories against the monsters would now be recorded in their service files.
Although the Cub Squad was temporarily under the jurisdiction of Prison Star and the cubs wouldn’t be transferred to other units before adulthood, the restrictions preventing them, as children of convicts, from leaving the planet were lifted.
Upon reaching adulthood, if they passed the final review, they could transition directly into full military service, carrying with them a stellar record.
In short, as long as they maintained their current performance—or even just sustained the status quo—their future prospects were limitless.
Anyone with foresight would avoid antagonizing the Cub Squad. Moreover, these children were genuinely well-behaved and disciplined, thanks to their caretakers.
The Cub Squad had breathed new life into the stagnant atmosphere of Prison Star. People now loved to talk about the cubs over meals and during breaks.
However, the squad’s formation also introduced some challenges. For instance, as Chui Le was aware, certain influential families within the Star Alliance had begun scheming upon learning about the squad’s establishment.
Some families intended to place their talented and capable children into the Cub Squad, viewing it as both a training opportunity and a way to accumulate military merits in advance.
However, due to the dire conditions on Prison Star, most of these families remained hesitant.
After all, the children they were considering sending were those the families had heavily invested in. If something went wrong on Prison Star, the consequences would be too much for them to bear.
Chui Le scoffed at these families.
Did they think the soldiers of Prison Star were just for show? Any random child hoping to join the Cub Squad? Even if they had beast-blood lineage, so what?
Though beast-blood warriors were rare on Prison Star, they did exist—and they had yet to display the kind of power the cubs from the nurturing center did.
Why did those pampered little heirs think they were qualified to join the Cub Squad? If anything, they’d likely slow the team down or, worse, get injured and become a liability for Prison Star to deal with.
Of course, no matter how strongly he opposed the idea, the final decision wasn’t his to make.
If he had that much authority, he wouldn’t have been assigned to Prison Star as a low-ranking base commander in the first place.
Still, it raised a lingering question: What made the cubs from the nurturing center so special? Why were they even more formidable than adult beast-blood warriors?
This was a question that puzzled many officers and soldiers who had witnessed the cubs’ combat achievements.
Could it be related to the research institute at Base 24? Had they discovered a way to strengthen beast-blood cubs? Speculation abounded, but so far, no one had uncovered the truth.
At that moment, after the cubs repeatedly declined his offer to stay for lunch, Chui Le couldn’t help but glance at the flute the little wolf cub was toying with. His curiosity finally got the better of him.
He knew that the little wolf, Lang Ze, possessed the bloodline of the Midnight Wolf, a species known for wind manipulation. The only trait remotely related to sound was their howl, which could travel great distances to alert others of their kind.
But using flute music to control monsters? That was completely unheard of!
After much deliberation, Chui Le decided to ask directly, “Lang Ze, your flute music can control monsters—how do you do it?”
