The night was quiet, the sweet aroma of desserts drifting from the backyard of the small villa.
Gu Qing and Milton sat at the stone table—one insect sipping tea, the other holding the round, contented, burping little Celestial Spirit. The little spirit nestled in Milton’s arms, soft and floppy, murmuring happily, “Next time, make it starfruit flavor—hic! I could eat ten bowls of that Silver Dew Heart Custard~”
Suddenly—
“BANG!”
The villa’s main door was kicked open.
“Gu! Qing!!”
A purple-haired, red-eyed youth stormed in like a gust of wind, face alight with excitement, voice soaring, “You came for me because your conscience finally kicked in, and you’re going to take responsibility for Star Court again, right?! I knew it—you’re just a love-struck fool temporarily!”
Gu Qing looked up calmly. “No.”
The youth froze as if doused in ice water. Three seconds later, his hair practically stood on end.
“You—damn it! Don’t just sit around in love! You, love—struck! Fool!” He pointed at Gu Qing, then turned to Milton. “And you, really necessary? Besides, in the future, you might have other females anyway—”
His words were cut off by Gu Qing’s piercing gaze.
“Among the myriad waters, I only drink from one scoop,” Gu Qing said calmly, without leaving room for argument. “Milton is my only one.”
The youth looked as if struck by lightning, frozen in place. “You’re… joking, right?!”
“You can kill star beasts, survive the intrigue of the nobility unscathed, and yet bind yourself to only one female?!”
Gu Qing’s eyes curved with a faint, knowing smile. “Problem?”
“Of course! You’re in the late stages of love-brain syndrome, incurable!”
Gu Qing stood, walked to the garden wall, and casually took down a wooden sword from a hook, tossing it to him.
The youth instinctively caught it. “And…?”
“Been a while since you trained?” Gu Qing’s voice was cool, like an icy edge.
The youth stiffened. “I’ve just been busy lately! That’s called strategic rest!”
Gu Qing’s tone remained flat. “Star Court is only the beginning. If you want to go further, you need strength and capability. Starting tomorrow, handle your daytime affairs, and come to me at night for training.”
The youth’s mouth twitched. “…You’re a demon, right? Daytime work, nighttime drills? I’m a male insect! Why must I train so hard?”
Gu Qing merely glanced at him, the look saying, “One more word and I’ll pin you to the wall.”
“I’ll train! I’ll train!” he quickly relented.
“Physical training is just the start,” Gu Qing continued like a mountain, immovable. “You also need to cultivate your spiritual strength.”
The youth frowned. “Huh? I’m not a female insect, why train spiritual strength?”
“The strength and application of the mind determines whether an insect can control its own destiny,” Gu Qing said sharply. “You cannot live relying solely on your birthright; you must learn to command your own power.”
The youth fell silent, seemingly hearing this for the first time. He turned away, muttering, “…I’m not convinced by you. I’m just doing it for Star Court’s sake…”
“Start with five warm-up rounds,” Gu Qing commanded, his tone cutting.
“Huh—now? What kind of demon instructor plot is this… I’m a male insect, not suited for—”
“Three.”
“I’m starting! I’m starting!!”
Fearing Gu Qing’s wrath, he rushed into the yard, groaning as he swung the wooden sword.
The backyard quickly filled with the sounds of clashing blades and youthful cries under the moonlight.
Milton sat nearby, holding the now-limp little spirit, eyes following the moonlit youth, then Gu Qing returning calmly, softly remarking, “You are strict with him.”
Gu Qing didn’t answer immediately. After a long moment, he smiled lightly, eyes on the young male in the yard. “It depends on how far he wants to go.”
The little Celestial Spirit peeked out, chattering mischievously: “Hehe~ this is so family-like! Gu Qing is the strict father, Milton the gentle mate, and he’s the stubborn, unruly little child—pfft hahahaha!”
The moon hung quietly, a soft night breeze brushing through.
Exhausted, the youth collapsed on the grass, gasping. From the corner of his eye, he saw the pair at the table quietly speaking, the brief exchange of glances making it seem as though the entire galaxy existed for just them.
He wanted to roll his eyes and quip about “love being scary,” but didn’t. That closeness, that natural intimacy, was something he had never seen in any noble household.
He recalled his own home—where his female parent, despite being the matriarch, was perpetually restrained; even meals were standing affairs, smiles were almost crimes. That was considered “standard.”
Now, seeing these two, he found himself at a loss for words.
“…Nothing to envy,” he muttered.
“Love doesn’t last forever anyway… they’re sweet now, but eventually—”
He stopped mid-sentence, realizing the truth. Perhaps being with only one female insect wasn’t so bad after all.
Though he wouldn’t admit it, a small flicker of longing had arisen in his chest.
Deep into the night, a soft lamp glowed in the room.
Loes lay in bed, back to the light, silently crying. Tears slid down his face, dampening a corner of the pillow.
His mind replayed the daytime scene—Gu Qing and Milton walking side by side, fingers intertwined, the ease and natural closeness surpassing a thousand words.
He knew—they were born for each other.
Milton, though from a humble background, had risen to the peak of the empire, confident and poised. Beside Gu Qing, he shone even brighter.
And he? Just a lowly female insect, carrying the hopes of his companions, never free to pursue his own desires. That light was never meant for him.
“…Just this once,” he whispered.
This would be the last time he wept for a love that could never be. He had responsibilities, many insects to protect—those who had once been trampled, now barely standing, all watching him.
Moreover—Gu Qing had said he was an “important partner.”
He had to uphold that trust, for the sake of those insects’ futures.
Loes took a deep breath, buried his face in the blanket, steadying himself. After a while, he lifted his head; though his eyes were still red, the confusion was gone.
He rose, approaching the desk. The dessert box delivered by Ace earlier in the day still sat there, unopened.
He opened it carefully. The sweet aroma hit him—animal-shaped cookies, golden and crisp, little pixiu with goofy smiles on their faces, absurdly cute, somehow warming the heart.
Popular with children, even female insects scrambled for them.
He couldn’t help recalling the youth who shouted “love-brain” yet obediently followed orders. The scene was indescribable.
“Pfft—”
Loes laughed softly, truly, like a flower quietly blooming in the deepest part of his heart.
Perhaps feelings don’t need reciprocation. Perhaps liking someone isn’t about possession, but wishing them to go further.
He placed a cookie in his mouth, savoring the crisp sweetness. A quiet, hidden affection, finally properly let go.
Here was the largest, most secretive, and most feared black market core in the entire galaxy—one the military itself dared not act against.
It was said to hold countless forbidden weapons, high-level arms, and a mercenary force capable of challenging a formal army. Military expeditions had been sent thrice to eliminate it, each time failing, ultimately acknowledging its existence and even trading covertly.
Now, in this nest where even the military hesitated, a group of battle-hardened female insects knelt—every one pale, sweating, terrified. Faces scarred, some missing teeth, bodies like bears, yet all prostrate.
They seemed like beasts stripped of fangs, lying at the feet of the sole king.
Above, Caesar leaned lazily in his chair, fingers playing with a still-bleeding insect head, twisted features frozen in terror—it was the former black market leader.
“As expected, first secure a few forces,” he said flatly, low, like discussing the weather, “so future troubles are minimized.”
On the floating screen, Liyou spoke calmly: “Young master, please exercise restraint. Destroying this force too much may require new pawns.”
Caesar chuckled, unconcerned.
Then his expression darkened, eyes sharp:
“The one you investigated for Star Court—are we sure who the real boss is?”
“Ace Mel,” Liyou replied.
Caesar narrowed his eyes, voice colder: “Mel… that was a surname I personally granted.”
Liyou added: “C-class male insect, long oppressed by nobility, living in hardship, repeatedly struggling on the edge of life and death.”
Caesar fell silent, briefly recalling a scene from a thousand years ago—his early days on the throne.
Throne hall awash in crimson, the smell of blood lingering. Seven corrupt officials slain at his hand, sword planted in stone. All subjects frozen in fear.
From the ranks, a solitary military female stepped forward, kneeling:
“Your Majesty, I oppose this expedition. Forcing it risks resource imbalance, border instability, and internal turmoil.”
The hall was silent, all eyes on her.
Caesar descended, figure like a blade, gaze cold as frost.
“You dare oppose me? Fear I’ll behead you?”
Her voice steady, eyes fearless:
“If I were corrupt, I would accept punishment. But my actions and words serve the empire, no deceit. Why fear?”
“Your Majesty rewards justice, distinguishes merit, issues commands firmly. Among countless rulers, only you….”
“What is your name?”
“Asuo, not yet ennobled.”
“Then from today, I grant you the surname ‘Mel,’ symbolizing courage and wisdom. This campaign is yours. Success brings reward; failure—you bring your own head.”
Asuo bowed: “Understood, Your Majesty.”
After the campaign, Asuo Mel founded the family, becoming a pillar of the empire.
Caesar smiled faintly: “Time passes, people change…”
Liyou asked: “Young master, do you wish to restore the Mel family?”
“No,” Caesar said coldly. “Only Asuo was worthy. Their descendants? Fallen to third-class nobility, rotten through and through.”
A sneer: “A group of scheming fools—how could they inherit the Mel name?”
His gaze hardened. “Star Court’s young male is not alone. Watch him and his contacts. The real hidden insect should surface soon.”
Liyou: “Monitoring network deployed.”
Caesar stood, eyes like blades, surveying the still-kneeling black market leaders.
“Now—who tells me: who killed your guards in the black market?”
“What caused the C-109 barren planet’s magnetic anomaly, paralyzing all starships and cutting communications?”
His voice fell, and red targeting lasers from the auto-defense system locked onto every insect.
Caesar smiled slightly, chin in hand, tone casual yet lethal:
“Speak properly—I have all the time in the world.”