During his confinement, Pei Ningyu tried his best to appear obedient at home. The Crown Prince who usually indulged him was no longer on the capital planet, and he truly feared that Pei Xu might once again make the harsh decision to force him to kneel and apologize to Xu Sidu.
Even while on the front lines, the Crown Prince didn’t forget to remind him to pay attention to his differentiation. To Pei Ningyu, the Crown Prince was a monarch who involved himself in every matter even the private affairs of the nobles who knelt before his magnificent ceremonial robes.
The Crown Prince would always hurriedly lift his gaze from the towering stacks of documents, casting a fleeting glance his way. That androgynous face, worn with fatigue from long hours devoted to military affairs, carried an air of exhaustion.
“The western front of the Empire cannot afford any delay. The Lysian Empire is obstinately attempting to cross the border into the inner star systems.”
“Those aging politicians are willing to betray their own nation for mere scraps of profit, even advocating for ‘peaceful evolution’ in the central star systems. Ningyu, you know this.”
“What I want are subjects I can trust.”
Pei Ningyu detected the implicit warning in the Crown Prince’s words. He knew recent events had reached the Crown Prince’s ears. Lowering his eyes, he “obediently” recounted the truth or at least his version of it.
In his telling, he had merely invited Xu Sidu to join him for some fun, but Xu Sidu had not only refused but also insulted him. He claimed he had done nothing wrong, yet Pei Xu insisted it was his fault and demanded he kneel in apology.
It was Xu Sidu who was ungrateful.
It was Pei Xu who was biased against him.
Though Pei Ningyu had not yet completed the six-year training at the base, he had long been known as the “Emperor’s favored subject.” It was the Crown Prince’s indulgence that allowed him to act so brazenly, shifting blame without batting an eye.
After listening, the Crown Prince finally looked up from the documents, resting his chin on his hand as his sharp gaze swept over Pei Ningyu.
Pei Ningyu met his eyes, but under the Crown Prince’s silence, his heart gradually tightened with unease.
Finally, the Crown Prince spoke: “Ningyu, I hope one day you can stand by my side.”
After a moment of contemplation, he added meaningfully, “Not just at banquets.”
The Crown Prince’s words signaled that the matter was over it would not be pursued further.
A glint flashed in Pei Ningyu’s eyes. He dropped to one knee, his youthful, straight shoulders and deep waistline fully visible. “I understand, Your Highness.”
“You will have your wish fulfilled.”
The Crown Prince observed Pei Ningyu’s uncharacteristic behavior but chose not to expose him. He knew Pei Ningyu only feigned obedience like this when guilty over his own misdeeds.
With an indifferent glance devoid of any emotion, the Crown Prince’s gaze passed through the holographic screen and landed on Pei Ningyu. “Dismissed.”
–
In the quiet afternoon, the bedroom was filled with an empty stillness. Sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting a glow on Pei Ningyu’s face. His eyes narrowed lazily into slits as he stared at the dimly lit display of the neural interface communication device. His consciousness drifted freely along the edges of reality like flowing water.
No playmates.
No going out.
These two things endlessly tested Pei Ningyu’s patience. Nearly half a month had passed, yet his confinement showed no sign of ending. Trapped at home, he felt like he was about to lose his mind.
These days, the communicator kept flashing with various messages and notifications, most of which were inquiries from Gu Shize and others.
Each time, he mercilessly chose to ignore them.
He seemed utterly indifferent to everything happening outside.
Yet, just as he was about to sink back into his thoughts, his eyes inadvertently caught the faint glow of the indicator light on the brain-computer interface communication device. Another message had arrived.
He glanced casually at the screen the sender was Yin Xishu. He frowned, but soon, a mix of confusion and curiosity quietly took root like multiplying bacteria. However, when he opened the message and saw its contents, his gaze froze.
It read: “Orders came in this morning. I’m to halt my training and take up the position of executive officer at the newly established military base in Lian Fortress.”
A single sentence, yet it struck Pei Ningyu’s heart like a thunderbolt.
A surge of complicated emotions welled up inside him. He knew this was undoubtedly Pei Xu’s doing.
With just a flick of his finger, Pei Xu could scatter his people, confine him to house arrest, or demand he toe the line at the base…
But he hadn’t expected Pei Xu to so effortlessly dispatch a base officer to the empire’s remote frontier.
After all, nominally, the base was under the direct jurisdiction of the imperial family. This was nothing short of an overreach a blatant defiance of imperial authority.
Wasn’t this also a mockery aimed at him?
A taunt at his powerlessness.
Pei Ningyu collapsed onto the bed, a wave of frustration rising within him. He pressed his fingers against his temples, enduring the sharp pain radiating from them.
Over the years, Pei Ningyu had never found a way to coexist with Pei Xu,he simply couldn’t stand him.
In families like theirs, once a child with inheritance potential was born, further pregnancies were usually avoided to prevent fraternal strife and internal conflict.
Perhaps because their parents were too deeply in love, he and Pei Xu were the closest of brothers, with barely any age gap between them.
This relationship was far too delicate.
If he were Pei Xu, he would have raised his younger brother in a gilded cage letting him bask in sweet, fragrant dreams of warmth and tenderness, rendering him useless. Then, as an adult, he’d assign him a comfortable, respectable bureaucratic role within the imperial cabinet, maintaining the illusion of brotherly harmony. At the very least, they wouldn’t reach the point of irreparable rupture.
That was the only peaceful solution to the problem of heirs born so close in age.
Yet Pei Xu had done none of that.
When a domineering control freak was given the title of family head or elder brother Pei Xu’s relentless scrutiny weighed on him like a suffocating burden. The more Pei Xu tightened his grip, the more rebellious Pei Ningyu became. It was a vicious cycle.
Just as Pei Ningyu lost himself in these thoughts, Yin Xishu sent another message: “I don’t want to go, Ningyu. Help me.”
“I want to stay at the base.”
“Even a general doesn’t have the authority to arbitrarily transfer base personnel.”
“I only ended up like this because I was acting on your behalf.”
The continuously scrolling messages from Yin Xishu struck Pei Ningyu’s heart like an electric current. A mocking smile curled at the corners of his lips, his eyes flashing with scorn and disdain.
Though he detested Pei Xu’s methods, he had no intention of helping Yin Xishu whatsoever.
“That place suits you perfectly,” he murmured, his voice faintly laced with sarcasm.
“Though it’s a backward border star system, it’s just right for a down-and-out noble like you from the Third System.” Pei Ningyu’s words dripped with derision and coldness as he muttered to himself, “Did you really think continuing training at the base would land you some prestigious assignment?”
The base’s training cycle lasted six years. Most graduates were assigned to various departments under the Imperial Military, with placements determined by cumulative ranking points and the sixth-year Dimensional Professional League commonly referred to as the “Final Exam.”
Yin Xishu’s competition records had always been mediocre, and his ranking wasn’t particularly high either.
“For someone of your background, becoming an executive officer at a military base is actually a blessing in disguise.”
Admittedly, though Yin Xishu had diligently done some dirty work for him, Pei Ningyu had no intention of taking any substantive action to help him.
Discarding useless tools after they’d served their purpose that was Pei Ningyu’s modus operandi.
Without offering any explanation, Pei Ningyu blocked Yin Xishu directly.
He remained seated, quietly watching the messages on his neural screen, complex emotions churning within him.
Though unmoved by Yin Xishu’s plea for help, the incident served as a wake-up call.
He thought it was time to demand that Pei Xu grant him access to the family’s core authority. Regarding the political legacy left by his parents, he needed to take control of at least part of it to prevent being powerless in similar situations in the future.
Meanwhile, Gu Shize’s messages kept popping up incessantly, irritating Pei Ningyu to no end. He wanted to drag Gu Shize straight to his trash folder, but accidentally opened the messages instead.
“Damn it.”
“Fu Chu has returned from the Mirrorhold Fortress.”
“Do you know why?”
“He presented early.”
“And the damnedest thing he presented as a beta.”
“Why are so many people suddenly presenting as betas?”
These simple words seemed to possess some magical power, instantly igniting turmoil in Pei Ningyu’s heart. He sat up abruptly, his previously indifferent eyes now sparkling with surprise and excitement. His heartbeat quickened as he leapt out of bed.
Fu Chu?
That Fu Chu who opposed him at every turn?
