SZAR Chapter 100

Qu Xia turned his back, carefully covering the tattoo on the back of his neck.

Before the second awakening, the markings that distinguished males and females weren’t obvious. But after awakening, the difference was clear at a glance.

He smoothed out the edges carefully, blending the tattoo with his skin. Then he put on a high-collared shirt. Once satisfied, he opened his light-brain to reply to Erwen.

Sliding open the message panel, he saw another notice,a group email from the office of the Stellar Group.

⟦ Hi, fellow colleagues of the Neuroscience Team, the Crown Prince will hold a masked ball tonight. His Highness greatly respects your achievements in your fields. If you wish to attend, please let me know. ⟧ 

From the royal records he had studied, Qu Xia knew the crown prince was foolish and the throne unstable. His prince brother often held large events in the younger brother’s name, using them to curry favor. Experts from all fields were included. The venue was large anyway, and Qu Xia was simply invited along.

He had no intention of attending these gatherings and wanted to refuse immediately.

At that moment, a new message from Erwen arrived.

【 Sorry, Lock, I have a banquet tonight. I’ll cook for you tomorrow. 】

Qu Xia’s hand paused mid-refusal, then he clicked 【Agree.】

There were thirty to fifty invited researchers from Stellar Group, including a few of Qu Xia’s colleagues. They gathered downstairs at the Stellar Group building and went to the banquet together.

The company, generous with expenses, reimbursed the cost of the masquerade outfits. Qu Xia chose a subtle one, then put on a mask covered in feather patterns.

He looked in the mirror. Once the mask covered his still-youthful cheeks, just looking at his jawline, he could barely say he looked handsome and charming. He nodded in satisfaction, thinking, “If I invite Erwen to dance at the banquet and then lift the mask, what would his reaction be?”

Would he be surprised that the little female he was raising had suddenly grown taller overnight?

A colleague nearby noticed his expression and shook his head with a smile. “We won’t need that mask.”

Qu Xia asked, “Why? Isn’t it a masquerade ball?”

The colleague said, “Because we’re just going for the free food. The nobles’ males won’t invite you to dance.”

He looked Qu Xia over again and added, “Well… maybe not. You’re good-looking, maybe someone will want to play. But!”

He lowered his voice. “If anyone invites you to dance, you absolutely must not. Understand?”

Seeing Qu Xia’s stunned expression, he shook his head and sighed with pity. “Anyway, you’ll see once you’re there.”

Let the facts burst the little colleague’s sweet illusions.

The banquet was held in the palace’s inner courtyard. The hall had been freshly decorated; tables lined the perimeter, forming a circle of empty space in the center for the dance floor. Qu Xia and his colleagues were seated at the edge of the hall. Researchers rarely attended such events, so they seemed a little stiff and uneasy. No one spoke for a moment, while Qu Xia scanned the room, looking for Erwen.

Erwen arrived fashionably late, halfway through the banquet.

He came with the Prince, and behind them trailed that inconspicuous fool of a younger brother. The Prince wore opulent clothing, followed by more than twenty attendants. The moment they opened the door, all eyes turned toward them.

The Prince raised his hand to quiet the room, then cleared his throat slightly and smiled. “Everyone, the reason I am holding this banquet today is to celebrate our Admiral.”

He gestured toward Erwen. “Our Admiral, after a long period of treatment, has regained his vision. He is qualified to return to the battlefield. Congratulations!”

Sparse applause followed.

This was not the military headquarters. Most of the guests were nobles, merchants, and politicians. Their respect for the Admiral was limited or even nonexistent. Qu Xia joined the applause quietly, frowning slightly.

He did not like this feeling.

Qu Xia reviewed the records of his Admiral chef. Erwen’s resume was extensive: hundreds of battles and campaigns had shaped him into the man he was today. The encounter on junk planet appeared in the records as only a single, simple line:

⟦ Stellar Year 2597, Winter. During the Eighth Expedition, the spacecraft crashed on Planet B-486. Erwen acted alone among local gangs. Rescued months later, blind.⟧

The line seemed plain and unremarkable, but Qu Xia knew how severe the injuries had been, how dangerous Erwen’s mental state was, and what he would have faced if Qu Xia had not bought him out.

The gang would have treated him as the lowest-class slave, forcing him into hard labor or, noticing his cold, sharp features, would have strapped him with suppression rings, broke his limbs, and toyed with him at will.

Though Qu Xia trusted that Erwen would have found a way out, his heart still ached.

Yet all these dangers, reduced to a line on a resume, read as if nothing had happened.

Qu Xia took a deep breath.

Besides that incident, there were other major and minor injuries; damaged wings, broken ribs. Qu Xia didn’t need to see the images; just reading the words made him tremble with discomfort.

The chef had been through so much, yet his temper was so good. Aside from when Qu Xia first arrived, he had never scolded him. To comfort Qu Xia, he was even willing to cook.

But these harrowing experiences, and the suffering behind them, were worth nothing in the eyes of the nobles at the banquet. They were even stingy with applause.

Erwen, however, remained calm: “Your Highness flatters me.”

They took their seats and had two rounds of tea and snacks. After three rounds of wine, the Prince clapped his hands. The hall dimmed, bright spotlights focused on the center of the dance floor, and the music shifted. The Prince raised his cup toward the audience: “Everyone, enjoy the ball!”

Dancing at a banquet was a common social custom among the Empire’s nobles. Many nobles came with partners, one female, one male, wearing masks. They would spin into the dance floor and, at each change of music beat, exchange partners. Some banquets even tacitly allowed that if a male partner agreed, he could spend a night with the newly exchanged partner.

This dance was the real reason the nobles attended; the earlier food and drink had been mere appetizers.

Qu Xia stood from his seat and started toward Erwen, hesitating whether to greet the Admiral.

The banquet was huge, the crowd thick, and Erwen didn’t notice him at all.

The Prince sat above, clapping in enjoyment, then turned to Erwen and suddenly smiled: “I heard that when you were at school, you even got an A+ in social courses. Would you like to go down and try?”

Erwen remained unmoved, like a mountain: “Not necessary.”

The Prince didn’t mind his reaction and only smiled: “But I also heard that your mental sea condition is severe, requiring large injections for suppression. This is a rare opportunity.”

He gestured to the floor below: “The males here are at least B-rank, and all the ones attending my banquet are handsome. Admiral, really not going to take this chance?”

Erwen’s expression remained unreadable as he glanced at him: “Not necessary. I don’t need pheromones.”

Strangely enough, his mental sea, long troubled by chronic illness, had recently started showing signs of improvement. Aside from increasingly bizarre dreams and the occasional annoyance of having to frequently change the sheets, everything else was moving in a better direction.

The Prince was not annoyed and smiled faintly: “Well, even if the Admiral steps down, he might still have trouble finding a suitable dance partner.”

He blinked, implying something: “After all, the males I invited have quite high standards.”

Erwen was very strong, but no matter how strong, without a male to comfort him, relying only on injections to barely survive, unable to find even one male to spare pheromones for treatment, stripped of his Admiral’s identity, he was just a female whose prime had passed, once served under a male lord.

Erwen didn’t respond.

The Prince was unconcerned and continued smiling to himself: “Even if age comes, it doesn’t mean you can’t find someone to take over. Like that one from Stellar Group next door, someone still has their eye on him. But they’re rich, unlike you, Admiral. After these years of treatment and recovery, you’ve probably spent enough, right?”

The Prince and Erwen belonged to different factions. The Prince’s status was naturally high, and he was a male; he could tease verbally, and no one could intervene.

Erwen replied evenly: “These personal matters are none of your concern.”

Neither of them noticed that, along the usual path by the dining tables, a figure paused mid-step before turning off along another route.

Qu Xia went straight to the bathroom.

He understood what his colleague meant: At the banquet, males were few and females many; those who entered the dance floor had partners. If he entered rashly, he would stand alone, and when partners were exchanged, he would still have none.

He faced the mirror and peeled off his tattoo sticker.

The insect pattern peeled away from his neck, revealing smooth skin beneath. Qu Xia then took out his mask and covered his cheeks with the feathered decoration, leaving only a handsome jawline exposed.

He calmly examined his appearance. The male in the mirror wasn’t as tall as Erwen, but among males, his height was sufficient. He lacked chest and abdominal muscles, but his bone structure was symmetrical and well-proportioned. The feathered mask hid most of his facial features, but from the jawline and the striking eyes, one could easily guess that the face beneath was refined and attractive.

Although researchers didn’t care much about fashion or grooming, this appearance would certainly not embarrass Erwen!

Thinking this, he walked straight toward the main table.

The Prince was still speaking at length. He seemed delighted at the thought of Erwen being embarrassed. Though the Admiral’s expression remained calm, the Prince enumerated the reasons no one invited Erwen to dance: too high in status, too stern, cold and uninteresting, muscles solid but not elegant… until finally, he feigned sudden realization: “Oh, of course! The most important reason, Admiral, you once had a male lord!”

Erwen gripped the armrest of his chair.

That marriage was a past too painful to revisit, one that had nearly crushed his spine. At any time, Erwen never wanted to recall it.

By now, Qu Xia had reached nearby.

The servants tried to stop him, but upon seeing the back of his neck, they all stepped aside. A distinguished male naturally had the right to meet the Prince. They moved aside, clearing a path for Qu Xia.

The Prince paused slightly, then turned his gaze this way. This was a male of notable bearing. From the servants’ reactions, it was clear he was a male.

He scanned the room, unable to identify the feather-masked noble, but seeing that all present males were either wealthy or high-ranking, the Prince smiled: “This noble…”

Qu Xia ignored him and stopped in front of Erwen. He awkwardly bowed: “Sir… may I have the honor of inviting you for a dance?”

Erwen hesitated. Instinctively, he wanted to refuse. The male before him was still young. He couldn’t tell whether the invitation came from pure kindness, pity stirred by the Prince’s ridicule, or some ill intent, attempting to make him follow the unsavory rules of the ball.

If it was the former, the Empire’s Admiral did not need pity. If it was the latter, he would refuse all the more.

Yet at that moment, he caught an inexplicable scent.

Minty, like the freshness of a cool summer.

Female zergs are always more sensitive to males whose pheromones they’ve come into contact with, especially those of high rank. Amid the mixed scents on the floor, other insects might not notice it, but Erwen could accurately pick out the hint of mint among all the cloying sweetness.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he instantly recalled the owner of that scent.

It was the strategist from the junk star.