SZAR Chapter 113

Qu Xia had returned from the banquet, slightly tipsy, and had picked up the scents of the other females. He didn’t notice it himself, but to Erwen, it was overwhelming.

Erwen’s irritation was inexplicable, and he slowly shifted the egg, trying to roll away.

Qu Xia didn’t understand why he was suddenly disliked. He gestured around the egg with his fingers and asked, “Not letting me hold you?”

His tone carried a strange hint of grievance.

The egg was soft, warm, and slightly heated. Qu Xia treated it like a pillow and had gotten used to hugging it every night.

Erwen sighed: “You can hold me.”

He nudged Qu Xia with the tip of the eggshell: “But you have to take a shower first.”

Qu Xia obediently responded, “Okay.”

He washed away the mixed scents, replacing them with the clean smell of shower gel, then climbed into bed, cradled the egg, and turned off the light.

About twenty minutes later, Erwen stirred slightly, hearing Qu Xia muttering in his sleep.

The little male slept in a half-dream, mumbling something indistinct. Listening carefully, Erwen barely made out, “I like it so much.”

He tried to frown, but that was nearly impossible for an egg, so he simply perked up.

Like what?

One of the females at the banquet?

Qu Xia had just undergone his second awakening, still in the phase of youthful admiration, and most of the females at the royal banquet were pretty and well-born. If he had liked one, it would have been normal.

Through the electrode patch on the eggshell, Erwen asked softly, “Who do you like?”

Qu Xia unconsciously reached out, pressing the upright egg down, cradling it properly, and murmured, “I like the egg.”

Erwen froze, caught between disbelief and amusement. He asked, “You like any egg?”

He knew there were plenty of eggs in Sylph’s lab and that Qu Xia often observed them. If these past days of closeness were only because he had become an egg, Erwen didn’t know how to handle it.

Fortunately, Qu Xia shook his head lightly.

He hugged the egg tighter, mumbling, “I only like this one.”

“…I hope I can always hug it.”

Erwen’s feelings were complicated. Undoubtedly, he had earned the male’s affection, a treasure many females could only dream of, but Qu Xia’s preference… was for an egg.

He said, “Xia Xia, this form won’t last long.”

A struggle was imminent. Whether he succeeded in helping Qu Xia ascend the throne or failed and got hunted down, he would soon return to his true form.

Qu Xia didn’t care. He held the egg tightly, like a young dragon perched on its treasure, mumbling, “Any form is fine.”

— Likes the chest muscles the most.

“…I want to hold it forever.”

— Best if I could bury into it.

The male made little smacking noises, and the egg perked up again.

Any form is fine? Want to hold it forever?

Qu Xia slept in a daze, as if in a state of answering any question asked. Erwen was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, “Xia Xia, have you ever thought about what kind of female you’d want to marry?”

Erwen was no longer a naive young female. When he had rejected the other females’ pheromones on Qu Xia, he had long stepped out of the role of a mere sponsor. A female developing possessiveness toward a male is a dangerous signal; if Qu Xia’s type strayed too far from what Erwen would approve, he would quietly withdraw, leaving a dignified exit.

Qu Xia didn’t answer immediately this time.

He seemed confused by the question, or perhaps deeply asleep. Just as Erwen thought he wouldn’t answer, the male muttered plaintively, “He wouldn’t agree.”

Though he longed for that waist and abs so badly, Qu Xia didn’t dare touch. The strict and serious Erwen would never tolerate such an offense, and would certainly not agree to break age restrictions to arrange a marriage match like between Qin and Jin¹ with a male he was sponsoring.

After saying this, Qu Xia fell silent. The egg in his arms rolled from tip to tail, and his mind was consumed with a single thought: He wouldn’t agree… who?

Erwen calmly went through all the females Qu Xia knew. If an A-rank male had invited a female but might refuse, it showed his position was extraordinary. Qu Xia didn’t even try, yet knew the female would not agree, meaning he had clearly expressed a disinterest in marriage.

There were many females of extraordinary status, but very few who explicitly refused marriage. After careful calculation, only three fit the description: one was Erwen himself; another was Qu Xia’s boss, Yi Xi, who had recently been forced into marriage after a noble male was hospitalized. Though as a boss, he had little contact with ordinary researchers; and the third…

The head of the Tylando family: Sylph.

Erwen asked softly, “Xia Xia, do you like Sylph?”

Qu Xia didn’t hesitate. He nodded. “Yes, I do.”

Sylph was witty, humorous, and highly capable. He cared for students, personally guiding them through publishing papers. Even if a senior in the lab made a foolish mistake, he merely scolded them, never withholding student funds or obstructing graduation. From any angle, Sylph was a professor worth liking.

The male’s attitude was so natural that Erwen’s brow twitched, a rare show of emotion. “Why do you like him?”

Qu Xia was excited: “He’s amazing! He’s published over ten top-tier papers, with insanely high impact factors, and has all kinds of connections with research institutes. Any expensive instrument can be borrowed, even unpublished papers can be read. My mentor is incredible!”

Erwen: “…?”

That answer was far from what he had expected. He let out a quiet sigh, then asked, “So… do you want to marry him?”

Qu Xia’s expression went blank.

He stammered, eyes widening in alarm: “…Ma-marry?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, no, no, absolutely not!”

Who would ever want to marry their mentor? What if saying so jeopardized graduation or got them in trouble!

Even though Sylph wouldn’t deliberately cause trouble, just a few whispered words from him could ensure that no institute would lend Qu Xia any equipment ever again.

Erwen paused for a moment. Three possibilities, two ruled out, only one remained.

He asked softly, “What about me? Do you like me?”

This time Qu Xia didn’t answer immediately. He hesitated, stayed silent, slightly recoiled, like a startled rabbit whose heart had been poked. Then he said, “…I do like you.”

He really, really liked him, saying the words carefully, almost weighing them.

Erwen exhaled slightly in relief.

He lay down, letting the egg return to a flat position, pressing it into Qu Xia’s arms, and asked, “Why?”

Erwen had been married before, with a personality far from easy to like. On Qu Xia’s first day, he had even made him cry. Later, the male had quickly moved out of the villa, then crossed to the desolate star, avoiding him as much as possible.

But this time, no matter how he asked, Qu Xia refused to speak.

The male tilted his head, resting on the pillow, and fell asleep.

………………

For the next half month, Qu Xia kept a pace of dating every three days.

He frequently met with Sylph, Lin En, and other key figures, giving the impression that he was choosing a female monarch among them. Many people were green with envy and sent him envious glances, while Qu Xia’s senior classmates teased Sylph in private, saying the old tree was blooming again, about to enter a second spring.

Only Sylph knew how bitter his heart really was.

For the sake of the male’s dates, Sylph was forced to dress up elaborately every day, then open the private room door to meet a pure white egg.

The egg was often placed on velvet silk, looking down on Sylph from above. Plump and clearly adorable, it nonetheless carried an inexplicable sense of authority. Whenever they met, Qu Xia stood obediently to the side, zoning out and pretending to be a decorative vase.

The so-called “irresistibly charming unmarried mature female” and “young, cute, delicate male” dates were nothing more than a serious exchange between Sylph and an egg.

Qu Xia didn’t understand the matters discussed between Sylph and Erwen, nor did he ask. But on one occasion, Sylph brought a syringe and drew a tube of Qu Xia’s blood.

He explained: “I’ve already contacted the council elders. First, we need to restore Qu Xia’s royal identity.” He lowered his voice: “Count Sigran is willing to assist, the media is already arranged. We’ll start with the blood test, and once confirmed, we can proceed with the formalities.”

Count Sigran was a distant cousin of the late Emperor Glore and had been well cared for before, considered a hidden member of the Glore faction.

Qu Xia didn’t pay much attention to what the formalities entailed. Three days after the blood test, he signed the required form on the blood donation matching sheet and submitted it, becoming one of the few males in the empire to voluntarily donate blood.

Because of the presence of pheromones, male blood was rare and precious, and delicate males were even less willing to donate. When interviewed, Qu Xia smiled and recited his prepared explanation:

“Because Sylph is doing research, he said his study on pheromones had hit a bottleneck. A major problem is the lack of male blood. I was brought back from the desolate star, and now I live happily. I am grateful for my current life and want to give back to the people of the capital star, so I decided to donate blood.”

On camera, the young male was shy and adorable, friendly without pretension, and netizens quickly felt a wave of affection.

Qu Xia’s act of donating blood for Sylph made everyone think Sylph was almost guaranteed to become the male’s female monarch. People sent their blessings in droves, leaving Sylph unable to lift his head in front of the egg.

About half a month later, another major event shook the empire.

Count Sigran suffered a plane crash while participating in outdoor sports, lost too much blood, and was in critical condition.

Count Sigran was a C-rank male, a member of the royal family. He was usually witty and humorous, not too stiff about his rank. Although his rank was somewhat low, he still had plenty of female fans.

People silently prayed, lighting candles to bless Count Sigran, but news came from the hospital: the Count was severely injured and unconscious. Without suitable blood transfusions, he was on the brink of death.

Pheromones were both a blessing and a curse. Their presence meant that males could not freely use female blood. Apart from some low-rank males donating blood to earn contribution points, there was no other way to donate. And since Sigran was a royal, his pheromones were unique, making matches with ordinary low-rank males almost impossible. Without blood delivery, Sigran was almost certain to die.

The life and death of a royal male captured the attention of the entire network. Amid waves of discussion, the hospital, heavy-hearted, drew from its limited blood bank. The medical staff had little hope, but to their surprise, a match was made.

This miraculous survival was full of drama. News reports poured in, spreading quickly across the capital star. The matched male once again entered the public eye.

【 Is it that young male they just recovered a few days ago? 】

【 Count Sigran really has incredible luck. If he had been found a few months later, he’d have been dead for sure. 】

【 But… doesn’t anyone find it strange that this male matched with the Count? I thought royal pheromones were special? 】

Meanwhile, Qu Xia sat in the hospital room eating dessert.

Officially, he was supposed to be preparing to donate blood, but in reality, his donation recipient was lively and sitting cross-legged on the sofa, playing a game.

Count Sigran and Qu Xia had actually met once before, the male who had pulled him away at the ball. The other party had cooperated with Erwen and the others to stage a scene, successfully creating doubt among everyone on the capital star about Qu Xia’s identity.

How could a male picked up from a junk planet directly match with a Count of the Empire?

Erwen did not attempt to force Qu Xia to show identification. The prince had a hundred ways to suppress the matter and could even stage a fake accident to make him disappear. But now that the news was everywhere, it was no longer so easy to cover up.

Glore’s direct line had never disappeared; it had only temporarily gone silent. Many council members frowned upon receiving the news, and at the same time, one thought of a certain male.

The late Emperor Glore’s direct son, the crown prince who had died young, there had long been rumors he was not really dead, but had been taken to the desolate star.

The elders of the Tylando family intervened, placing tight protection around Qu Xia in the hospital. Then, a reporter from the family handed the microphone to Qu Xia:

“An A-rank male was lost on a desolate star. This is truly unbelievable. Do you have doubts about your own origins?”

In front of the camera, the young male showed just the right amount of confusion and helplessness. He recited the lines given by Sylph, pressing his lips together and softly saying,

“I don’t know my origins. Ever since I can remember, I’ve lived on the garbage star. But I’ve always had this with me.”

He held up a piece of black metal. “This thing has been with me for as long as I can remember. It seems like some kind of ID, but I don’t know if anyone recognizes it.”

Qu Xia stared steadily at the camera, his voice carrying a hint of hope: “If anyone does, please tell me. I really want to know about my family… to know if I have a mother or father, and whether they are doing well…”

He bowed slowly. “Please.”

The young male’s eyes were as beautiful as a fawn’s, wet and glistening. No one could resist being looked at like that.

The director cut to a close-up, focusing on the metal seal.

The crowd drew in a collective gasp.

The black metal was engraved with a pattern of thorned roses, the gold-inlaid flowers glittering. In the lower right corner of the plate, there was even a serial number, showing traces of gilded oxidation.

Isn’t this a symbol of royal identity?