Chapter Sixteen: Shen Qingyi, What's Wrong With You?

The sun rose once again in the east, its rays streaming through the window and filling the room with light. Awakened by the brightness, Shaoyu Liu opened his eyes and found himself in his own bedroom. It was only then he remembered that he had drunk himself into oblivion the night before, and had no recollection of how he’d made it home. Pressing his hand against his still aching head, Shaoyu Liu got up and climbed out of bed.

After changing into comfortable clothes and finishing his morning routine, Shaoyu Liu walked out into the garden behind the villa.

The morning sun was still gentle, not yet harsh. Shaoyu Liu stood firmly, knees slightly bent, raising his left hand as his right swept in front of him, while his left foot traced an arc outward. His movements changed swiftly, limbs dancing with increasing speed, until only the traces of motion could be glimpsed. At last, he drew his hands back, returning to a standing posture.

He exhaled deeply, standing tall once more.

For eighteen years, day after day, wherever he was, Shaoyu Liu had never missed his morning practice of this body technique.

If any of his former competitors in mecha combat had been present, they would have recognized many of his movements.

But now, after completing his routine, Shaoyu Liu closed his eyes, sensing something subtly new within this familiar set of exercises. He repeated the movements where this feeling emerged.

No wonder he’d always felt awkward at this part—now he understood why. Clearly, Shaoyu Liu had gained new insight from his practice.

Opening his eyes, he looked around and noticed that the light curtain of the neighboring courtyard had turned transparent. In a small pavilion, an elderly man reclined on a lounge chair, eyes closed in quiet meditation. A cane and some clothing rested on the table beside him.

This piqued Shaoyu Liu’s curiosity. With today’s technology, it was entirely possible to regenerate body tissue—even severed limbs could be restored rapidly using DNA templates from the gene bank. There was simply no need for a cane.

Perhaps sensing Shaoyu Liu’s gaze, the old man slowly opened his eyes. The moment their eyes met, Shaoyu Liu felt a pressure upon his spirit—a fleeting sense of suppression, which vanished almost instantly.

What kind of gaze could cause a soldier’s mind to falter so briefly?

Once the elder realized who was watching him, his expression returned to normal. Feeling embarrassed by his own boldness, Shaoyu Liu offered an apologetic smile and nodded awkwardly.

The old man responded with a faint smile, nodded gently, and closed his eyes once more.

Though still puzzled, Shaoyu Liu turned and went back inside.

After all that activity, his stomach was starting to growl.

As soon as he entered, his sensitive nose caught a delicious aroma.

“Come have breakfast!” called Taozi from the dining room. Shaoyu Liu strode over and saw Taozi carrying a plate out from the kitchen, sticking out her tongue playfully when she saw him.

“Did you cook this?” Shaoyu Liu asked as Taozi set her plate on the table.

“Are you kidding? Sister Qingyi made it. This one’s mine—yours, you’ll have to get yourself.” With that, Taozi began eating as if afraid someone would snatch her meal away.

Walking into the kitchen, Shaoyu Liu found Qingyi Xin busy at work. Her hair, which had been let down yesterday, was now neatly pinned up, giving her the look of a proper housewife—quite unlike the Qingyi Xin he knew from their missions.

“You should let the robots handle breakfast. Why do it yourself?” Shaoyu Liu said to the busy Qingyi Xin.

In truth, not only breakfast, but even a full imperial banquet could be prepared by modern housekeeping robots. With precise material ratios and energy monitoring, robotic chefs could rival the finest hotel kitchens. On their missions, the starship’s mess hall was staffed by specialized logistics robots. Thus, Shaoyu Liu’s comment was offhand.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll just throw it out,” Qingyi Xin suddenly reverted to her icy demeanor, making as if to dump the food in the trash.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Shaoyu Liu quickly grabbed her plate. Women, he thought, could change expressions faster than the weather. He wondered what he’d done to offend her. It seemed that, no matter the time or place, a woman’s thoughts were always a mystery to men—best not to guess.

Meanwhile, Qingyi Xin was thinking, “I rarely cook myself, and he doesn’t even thank me. Instead, he suggests letting the robots do it. Does he look down on me? Is my food really worse than theirs?” The more she thought, the more she resolved to consult the family chef for advice—an actual chef, not a robot.

Unaware of Qingyi Xin’s inner turmoil, Shaoyu Liu, thinking he’d upset her, sat beside Taozi and quietly asked, “Is Qingyi in a bad mood today?”

He received only a glare in reply, after which Taozi continued demolishing her breakfast.

“Could it really be that good?” Shaoyu Liu wondered, seeing Taozi so absorbed she couldn’t even speak. “I suppose I should try it myself.”

It wasn’t that the food was exceptional—Taozi simply didn’t want to bother with him. “He can’t even see something so obvious. Does our captain really only have missions on his mind? Poor guy. Our little scribe is much better,” she thought, blushing to herself.

Shaoyu Liu, busy tackling his heart-shaped fried egg, had no idea Taozi already considered him a pitiful soul. If he’d seen the strange smile she wore at the end, he’d have been quite unsettled.

At that moment, Qingyi Xin came out with her plate and sat on Shaoyu Liu’s other side. Seeing him focused on her cooking, she nodded with satisfaction.

“How is it?” Qingyi Xin asked.

“Mmm… Mmmph…” Fortunately, Qingyi Xin’s keen hearing could make out his muffled answer, which pleased her greatly. All traces of her earlier icy demeanor vanished.

“Oh, waking up to breakfast is just perfect—hey!” A hand tried to sneak into Taozi’s plate, only to be met with fierce resistance.

“Filthy hands! Don’t touch my food!” Taozi defended her breakfast with all her might.

The intruder was Ruyuan Long, number two artillery officer of the Young Dragon Squad, and the undisputed champion of verbal sparring—even Ping Luo couldn’t last a round against him. Handsome and tall at one meter ninety-five, he was the third young master of the Long family: the epitome of tall, rich, and handsome. In academy days, he was idolized by the female cadets, a stark contrast to the discreet traditions of the ancient Long clan. Yet, as the saying goes, every dragon’s offspring is different—even Old Master Long never understood how he produced such a character.

Despite his reputation as a flirt, Ruyuan Long never managed to catch the interest of the squad’s two female members. Taozi only cared for her scribe brother and her food, while Qingyi Xin remained perpetually aloof. For various reasons, Ruyuan Long never pressed his luck.

After failing to steal a bite, the dragon prince slunk off to the kitchen to scavenge for himself.

During breakfast, the members of the Young Dragon Squad trickled in. Despite the army’s strict regulations—and the fact that everyone had been dead drunk the night before—their ingrained biological clocks insisted it was time for breakfast. Afterward, the two girls decided to go shopping, while the remaining boys, at Ruyuan Long’s suggestion, went out to unwind. The scribe, however, was summoned by Taozi’s gaze to carry her bags. The rest could only offer him sympathetic looks, while he, seeing them, adopted a heroic “If not me, then who?” attitude and embarked on his journey as porter.

Falling out of the top ten like this—no, I must push forward! Double update today. There’s more to come!