Wang Luan idly flipped through the structural diagrams and parts schematics of various transport ships on her terminal, building models in her mind.
Ever since dismantling spacecraft on the wasteland planet, she had developed more interest in dismantling and repairing this kind of machinery; if she had the chance to dismantle a few more ships, that would be even better.
If she could return to the Wang family, this would be a very simple matter. Even if they didn’t like her having such a low-level hobby, in order to get her to cooperate in more matters, they would still satisfy this small request.
It was just that at the thought of returning to the Wang family, she still felt resistant. They were pressing her step by step to become a qualified noble heir, but she herself knew clearly that there were some things she would never be willing to do.
When the conflict fully erupted that day, what would she become?
A sound of footsteps came from behind. She turned her head and saw Yan Qiongyu; he extended his palm toward her. “We should go.”
Go? Where to? Wang Luan subconsciously placed her hand on his, and with a slight pull from him, she was drawn up from the seat.
Yan Qiongyu’s steps were a bit fast. Holding her hand, he strode through the red-carpeted corridor, passed through the empty palace, and headed straight for the underground docking bay.
Boarding the ship bearing the crest of Prince Luxin, Wang Luan saw the steward Yun Li. Apart from her, there were only a handful of omegas here, and the looks they gave her were all a bit strange.
Yan Qiongyu dragged her through those ambiguous gazes and arrived at a cabin.
He turned back and smiled as he said, “Prince Luxin fears the war that is about to spread to Luxin Star, so he’s preparing to take some omegas aboard a ship to flee to a safe place. I don’t think he would mind taking us along.”
If she hadn’t seen Prince Luxin bound into a ball in the corner of this cabin, Wang Luan would have believed him.
Prince Luxin looked as if he had been bound very suddenly; he hadn’t even finished dressing, his robe rolled up, exposing two bare legs in his struggles. Seeing him like this made Yan Qiongyu’s words sound rather teasing; at the very least, Prince Luxin was already panting heavily in the corner.
Wang Luan: “…So right now, this is abducting a hostage and running?”
Yan Qiongyu smiled without answering, only saying, “Our time is very tight. The ship is about to make a space jump, and before we reach the destination, there’s one more thing that needs to be done.”
He pushed open a door and shoved Wang Luan inside. Suddenly pushed into a small room, Wang Luan turned her head and saw Yan Qiongyu lock the door with a “click.”
Yan Qiongyu walked toward her, undid one cuff with one hand, rolled up his sleeves, and said to her, “Take off your clothes first.”
Looking at the only bed in the small room, cold sweat immediately broke out on Wang Luan’s back. “Calm down… ah… aren’t we supposed to be abducting a hostage and fleeing?”
Yan Qiongyu stepped past her and took out some tools from a small case. With his back to her, he put on thin surgical gloves, his tone carrying obvious amusement. “So I need to first find the micro positioning chip the Wang family injected into you and remove it, to avoid being tracked.”
Children of great noble families are mostly injected with this kind of private chip from a young age, used for monitoring, or for protection, to prevent them from going missing if something happens.
Wang Luan: “…………”
Wang Luan expressionlessly wiped away the cold sweat. “Where is the chip?”
Yan Qiongyu: “Not sure, so we have to look for it.”
A chip like this couldn’t possibly be in the brain or vital areas; anywhere else was possible. Wang Luan had no related memories of this from the original body, so under Yan Qiongyu’s urging gaze, she took off her outer clothes, wore a tank top, and sat woodenly on the bed.
Yan Qiongyu stopped talking. The slight smile in his eyes fully receded. He checked Wang Luan’s upper arm for a moment without any results, then moved behind her, his fingertips touching along her shoulders and back one by one—still nothing.
His gaze moved downward. He lifted the tank top slightly, his fingers searching upward along her waist.
Wang Luan endured without dodging. She didn’t know whether it was ticklish or something else; she felt her waist was about to cramp. Was this guy playing with her again? Wang Luan glanced back, saw his expression—so focused it was a bit cold—and silently turned her head back.
“Found it.” Hearing this, Wang Luan was pushed forward, her whole body pressed down onto the bedding.
She closed her eyes from wherever she fell, letting Yan Qiongyu arrange her however he wanted.
Yan Qiongyu didn’t even give her a heads-up. After finding the chip, he picked up the tools and began disinfecting the area at her lower back, then took up a small cutting instrument, efficient as if casually dealing with a lab mouse.
A sudden coolness spread across her lower back, followed by a faint sting. In just a few minutes, Yan Qiongyu successfully removed the chip and treated the tiny wound.
Wang Luan reached out to touch it, but he stopped her. “You can’t touch it for now.”
He tore off the gloves and carried the tools away. “Rest first. I’ll come back for you in thirty minutes.”
Wang Luan sat up. Draping her outer garment over herself, she fastened the buttons and thought: removing the chip meant she was no longer planning to return to the Wang family. Could she go anywhere now? Where was Yan Qiongyu going to take her?
Prince Luxin’s ship flew all the way toward star regions farther and farther from the Imperial Capital Star. Just as Yan Qiongyu had said, with the situation around the Imperial Capital Star Circle becoming critical, no one cared where this useless prince was hiding.
Under Yun Li’s arrangements, the Wang family fleet that had been following Wang Luan still didn’t know she had been taken away; they had probably only just discovered she was missing and were chasing over from Luxin Star. But they were already too late.
When Prince Luxin’s eye-catching ship passed through a space transfer node that connected in all directions, an inconspicuous spacecraft quietly detached from the fleet.
On this spacecraft, there were only Yan Qiongyu and Wang Luan, as well as Yun Li and Prince Luxin—the four of them.
Having switched to another means of transport again in such a short time, Wang Luan sized up the spacecraft and found a place to sit.
Yan Qiongyu and Prince Luxin were not present; here there were only her and Yun Li. After leaving Luxin Star, Yun Li no longer had that humble servant’s demeanor on her face.
“I really didn’t expect Miss Wang to be willing to give up her family and leave with us,” Yun Li said, her tone no longer polite. “When you get to our place, you won’t be a high-status alpha enjoying privileges anymore.”
“Oh?” Wang Luan asked. “Then what kind of place are you talking about?”
Yan Qiongyu appeared at the doorway. Seeing him come over, Yun Li immediately shut up.
Yan Qiongyu seemed not to have heard their conversation at all. He walked to Yun Li’s side, patted her shoulder, and said gently, “Go keep an eye on Prince Luxin. Don’t let anything happen to him.”
Yun Li nodded and stood up. After taking just two steps outside, her body suddenly swayed, and she collapsed to the ground.
What was this development now? A sudden illness? Wang Luan froze, looking at the unmoving Yan Qiongyu.
Yan Qiongyu poured himself some water at the side, took two sips, and said lightly, “It’s fine. A sedative. It’ll be better for her to pass out next.”
He poured another glass of water for Wang Luan and pushed it toward her. “Thank you very much for your help during this period, Miss Wang Luan.”
Wang Luan looked at Yun Li lying on the ground, then at the water Yan Qiongyu had poured for her, and reasonably suspected there might be something added to it. With only the two of them awake in the space, the air felt stifling.
After a while, Yan Qiongyu stood up, took hold of Wang Luan’s hand, and without saying a word, led her to stand in front of the hatch.
Many planets flickered near and far. Their craft skimmed past clusters of stars one by one, plunging into a space node. After the white light, they completed another jump.
The spacecraft docked at a somewhat rudimentary spaceport, and the hatch slid open before their eyes.
Wang Luan moved the hand Yan Qiongyu was holding, puzzled. “This is the destination?”
Yan Qiongyu was looking at her. Hearing this, he replied, “This is your destination.”
“I’ve done what I promised you.” He released her hand, placed his hands on her shoulders, and with a slight push sent her forward. “Go. Live the life you want.”
With one foot stepping onto the external docking bridge, Wang Luan turned back to look at him in a daze, not understanding how the parting had come so suddenly.
Then a relieved smile suddenly appeared on her face. She took a few steps forward on her own, held the railing, waved toward Yan Qiongyu standing inside the hatch, and said in Huaxia language, “Then, goodbye. I wish you a smooth journey.”
“And also, I’m very grateful for your care during this time.”
The hatch closed. The craft flew away and soon vanished into the universe, disappearing from Wang Luan’s sight.
Yan Qiongyu leaned against the hatch, lowering his gaze to watch the river of stars outside, his expression calm.
Wang Luan was a very ordinary person. From the information she had inadvertently revealed, one could infer that she lived an ordinary yet free life in another world.
She had no outstanding talent, no surging ambition, and possessed an overly soft heart. Even wrapped in the shell of an alpha, she could never become a true alpha.
Such a person could not adapt to the noble world, and even less so to another cruel land. “Utopia” was an omega’s Utopia, but for alphas it was not a good place.
He left the hatch, stepping over Yun Li lying on the ground. She would probably remain unconscious for quite a long time. There was no helping it—after all, if she were awake and knew where Wang Luan had left from and leaked her whereabouts, that would trouble him.
Entering the room where Prince Luxin was held, Prince Luxin was bound to a chair, his head fixed in place by a support frame.
Yan Qiongyu sat down opposite him. At first, he adopted his habitually elegant sitting posture, but after a pause, he changed to a more casual, less elegant position and reached out to remove Prince Luxin’s mouth gag.
Having just regained his freedom, Prince Luxin forcibly rallied his spirits and shouted, “What are you going to do to me? Let me go at once!”
Yan Qiongyu revealed a falsely apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I need to send your head to my mother as a first-meeting gift, so I can’t let you go.”
“Y-you—what did you say? You actually want to kill me? I’m an imperial prince, you can’t kill me!” Seeing his unmoved smile, Prince Luxin suddenly began to struggle, speaking incoherently. “Didn’t you call me Father? That’s right, I’m your father! I gave you life, you should repay my kindness, you can’t kill me!”
Yan Qiongyu smiled as he picked up the surgical tools placed to the side. “This is my repayment. I’m giving you another chance to be reincarnated—wouldn’t you say that’s the grace of rebirth?”
“Be grateful to me for granting you death, just as I am grateful to you for granting me life.”
With the cold, sharp blade pressed against his neck, Prince Luxin felt the pain at his throat and let out a string of shrill screams, struggling even more violently.
Yan Qiongyu covered his mouth and pinned down his thrashing body. “Shh… shh, it’s all right. Father and Mother, I will repay both of you. You’re merely taking the first step.”
The room was filled with a heavy, rusty stench. Yan Qiongyu tossed aside the bloodstained knife, ran a hand through his meticulously groomed hair, and let out a long sigh.
He sat in place, examining the carefully prepared “gift,” and suddenly laughed with pleasure.
