Chapter 293: Sky

Chapter 293 Sky

Ye Wang held Jiang Qi's hand as they stepped into the civil registration office.

The hand in his grasp was firm yet evenly fleshed, its fingertips bearing thick gun calluses, and upon closer inspection, myriad minute scars left behind from healed wounds.

These were the very hands that had wielded firearms, repelling the Federation's forces outside the Empire's borders for a full six months.

In the countless battles between them, Ye Wang had imagined countless times snapping those very bones with his own hands.

Lowering his gaze, Ye Wang absentmindedly rubbed the skin of his fingertips.

It wasn’t intentional—just a habitual gesture when deep in thought.

Jiang Qi stiffened instantly, his fingers tensing slightly before forcing them flat.

Noticing this, Ye Wang tilted his head to glance at him.

The Empire’s golden boy, the living weapon that struck fear into Federation soldiers, was now walking calmly beside him. His head was slightly bowed, the slender nape of his neck forming a gaunt curve, his lowered lashes veiling his icy eyes. Clad in a well-fitted uniform, his lean yet upright frame made him look more like a bookish intellectual than a fighter.

But Ye Wang recognized Jiang Qi’s earlier movement all too well—it was the finger positioning for a quick draw.

Had this been the battlefield, Jiang Qi’s barrel would already be pressed against Ye Wang’s temple.

The commander appraised his marriage candidate with amusement. Unfortunately, the holster at Jiang Qi’s waist was empty—no gun in sight.

Ye Wang and Jiang Qi were sworn enemies. If Jiang Qi was uncomfortable, Ye Wang was pleased.

What could be more entertaining than messing with your worst enemy?

Then, Ye Wang forcefully forced his fingers between Jiang Qi's and locked their fingers together. Jiang Qi's brows darkened as he instinctively tried to shake free, but before he could exert any force, Ye Wang pressed down on his shoulder and chuckled, "Sweetheart, there are surveillance cameras above the marriage registration office. If I recall correctly, you're still on military probation, aren't you?"

"..."

Jiang Qi stiffened for a moment before he gave in, his voice icy. "Yes, sir."

He allowed Ye Wang to lead him into the room.

There was no affection between them—this was purely a marriage under military coercion, and thus required neither a ceremony nor witnesses. The staff handed them two documents, which Ye Wang and Jiang Qi each signed, completing the marriage paperwork.

Subsequently, the staff entered the documents into the system, synchronizing and uploading them to the database. Once the update was complete, the marriage was legally binding.

Ye Wang brought up his ID on the communicator, where Jiang Qi's information now appeared right beneath his own.

Ye Wang scanned it quickly.

Name: Jiang Qi

Gender: Male

Citizen Rank: Third-Class Citizen (Note: Granted upper-city residency privileges through genetic modification.)

Place of Birth: Lower District, Capital Planet, Block B426

The Empire's capital planet was divided into upper and lower levels. The upper level soaked in sunlight, filled with birdsong and floral fragrance, reserved for first- and second-class citizens. The lower level, however, was drowning in industrial waste, its skies constantly covered in lead-gray pollutants, devoid of sunlight—home to third- and fourth-class citizens.

Though both were residents of the capital planet, they lived in heaven and hell.

Ye Wang closed his communicator.

He took Jiang Qi by the hand and said, "Let's go, let's go home."

The aircraft ignited and took off, trailing a vivid blue exhaust, then traveled a quarter of the planet’s circumference before stopping in front of a villa.

The villa had three full floors, with two gardens—one in the front and one in the back. The front garden was lush with green grass, centered around a fountain, while the back garden featured a small circular lake with a few ornamental fish swimming inside.

Ye Wang hovered the aircraft above the villa and clicked his tongue, thinking, *Now that’s extravagant.*

66 perched on his head. "Is it really that extravagant?"

Many of its past hosts lived in even bigger places. The emperors, of course, were no exception, while the Demon Sect Leader, Elven King, and Duke had way grander mansions. Even the homes of a few wealthy modern individuals were bigger.

Ye Wang replied, "Your previous worlds are different from ours. Whether in the Federation or the Empire, land resources are extremely scarce. Huge swaths of land are polluted or bathed in cosmic radiation, so there’s barely any livable space left."

As he spoke, he maneuvered the aircraft into the aerial garage. Once it was securely parked, he climbed down the ladder. "Please, come inside."

Pei Gu was an Imperial general in charge of interrogation and coercion, and the interior design of his residence reflected his personality—harsh, rigid, and lifeless, with cement-gray walls and shapeless metal lines, like something out of a prison.

Ye Wang scanned the room and finally spotted the only soft piece of furniture—a plush down-filled sofa. The commander flopped onto it, letting his body sink into the fluffy cushions, then looked up at Jiang Qi.

Jiang Qi hadn’t moved since entering the house. He stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the ornamental lake in the back garden, like a statue—utterly still.

Ye Wang asked, "Jiang Qi, I heard you took some self-cultivation courses in Monitoring Room 7312 and passed the psychological evaluation. True?"

66 gave a silent little clap.

This was part of the original script. Pei Gu’s purpose in marrying Jiang Qi was to control and monitor him, so he had to ensure Jiang Qi’s mental stability. Thus, the moment they returned home, he jumped straight to suspicion and questioning.

Jiang Qi turned his head slightly. "Yes, sir."

Ye Wang probed, intrigued, "Then what did you learn?"

This was scripted dialogue, but Ye Wang was genuinely curious—what kind of self-cultivation lessons had the Empire’s so-called ‘God of Slaughter’ taken?

Jiang Qi lowered his eyes, letting his lashes obscure his gaze. The pose dialed back his edge, making him appear gentle and submissive. "Floral arrangement, tea ceremony, and culinary arts."

Ye Wang’s eyebrow shot up. "You can cook?"

Jiang Qi replied, "Yes, sir."

Ye Wang propped his chin on his hand. "The kitchen is over there. There are ingredients in the fridge. Wanna show me?"

He had to admit—he was curious about the culinary skills of the Empire’s golden boy.

Jiang Qi paused, then stepped into the kitchen, his movements stiff and methodical.

The Empire had mechanized kitchen-integrated systems where one only needed to place raw ingredients into a port, and the machine would automatically cook the meal. However, high society still swore by hand-cooked meals, much like how people in industrial societies favored handmade goods—it was just another way to flex their status.

Pei Gu’s home wasn’t equipped with an integrated system but had an old-fashioned stove instead. Jiang Qi lit the burner, eyes downcast, and poured oil into the pan.

Ye Wang snagged a beer from the fridge and leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching Jiang Qi work.

Even though Jiang Qi was deliberately restraining himself, Ye Wang could still sense a dangerous aura around him. His expression was focused, his movements precise, and his slender fingers glided over the counter. For a moment, Ye Wang even felt like he wasn’t turning on a stove but manning a starship’s console.

He watched with growing interest.

Then, Jiang Qi took out the ingredients and selected a long, narrow kitchen knife from the rack. Ye Wang’s gaze lingered on Jiang Qi’s fingertips, noticing how steady his grip on the knife was—just as steady as when he held a gun.

And so, Ye Wang itched to mess with him again.

The commander took a sip of beer, scanned the kitchen, and suddenly said, "Hey, Jiang Qi?"

Jiang Qi stood rigidly with his back turned, silent and tense. "Yes, sir."

Ye Wang pointed with his beer can from a distance. "Put on that apron over there."

Jiang Qi paused, unmoving, his back tensing.

When he married Pei Gu, he’d braced for tests and taunts—but not for apron-clad kitchen duty.

Ye Wang: "Just put it on. Your white clothes will be hard to clean if oil splashes on them."

"..."

66 fretted nervously: "Host, Jiang Qi's fingers are gripping the knife tightly!"

Ye Wang: "It's fine. He won’t risk slicing me up—yet."

Two seconds later, Jiang Qi strode to the edge of the kitchen, took down the apron, swiftly put it on, and returned to the stove.

With a swift motion, he sliced clean through the rib cartilage.

Ye Wang took a lazy swig of beer and quietly opened his communicator again.

66 perked up: "...What now?"

The commander smirked. "Taking a few photos. 'The Empire's Star' wearing an apron and cooking—now that’s a keepsake. Next time we face off against Jiang Qi on the battlefield, I'll loop these photos in the comms channel. Bet he’ll fumble his rifle after this."

66: "..."

Fine.

Ye Wang found the comms channel, selected a close-up of Jiang Qi holding the knife, and clicked send.

The adjutants were all busy with their own tasks, especially with their commander Ye Wang absent. Yet, their curiosity overpowered everything. The moment Ye Wang sent the photo, the adjutants immediately opened it and began commenting.

"'The Empire's Star'—what's he doing?"

"Chopping meat? The way he holds that knife is kinda terrifying."

"Boss, you okay? I feel like after he's done with the meat, he's coming for you next."

Ye Wang: "He won't get me—yet. Wen Muyuan, didn’t he chase you all over the place back then? I’m avenging you."

Wen Muyuan sent an eye-roll emoji: "Commander Ye, thanks, but I’d rather get my own revenge."

As they chattered nonsense, Jiang Qi finished his prep work. He placed the ribs into hot oil to fry, then lowered his gaze and began stir-frying.

White smoke rose from the pan, the exhaust fan roaring overhead. Flames licked up with the hot oil, the pungent smell assaulting their noses.

Jiang Qi's eyes reflected the blue-purple flames. The cast-iron wok resembled a lightless universe devoured by darkness. For a moment, he was lost in memory.

"B326 cockpit on fire, requesting backup, requesting backup!"

"B784 cockpit on fire, requesting backup, requesting backup!"

"C2389..."

Flames licked at his body, the heat enough to melt metal. Smoke invaded his lungs through his nostrils, stealing oxygen, bringing suffocating agony. The public comms channel echoed with countless screams of despair. With no retreat, on the brink of death, just a step away from the inferno, Jiang Qi could only clutch his communicator, repeating the coordinates over and over, begging for rescue.

Too many ships were on fire, making it impossible to rescue them all. The commander's voice in the channel was cold and steady.

"All Priority One pilots, report your coordinates immediately! Priority rescue for first-class citizens!"

"B784 pilot is a first-class citizen, coordinates..."

"D1354 pilot is a first-class citizen, coordinates..."

Thus, dozens of voices flooded the comms—some wailing, some begging, some in unbearable agony, some weeping with joy. But Jiang Qi, gripping the receiver, heard only a shrill, earsplitting static.

To prevent interference with the communication channel, they cut his feed.

As oxygen thinned and heat blistered, Jiang Qi's mind drifted back to the skies of his childhood—coal dust mixed with sulfurous gases turning the sky the color of a grease fire, layers of cumulus clouds always hanging like a colossal vortex over the lower districts. As a child, Jiang Qi had imagined those swirling clouds as some goddamn demon's eyeball, watching over every soul in the city.

Once caught in its gaze, no one could escape their inborn fate.

The sky drew nearer and nearer, tightening like shackles. Jiang Qi stared fixedly at it, unable to breathe.

But the next moment, before the ashen sky could fully coalesce, a tremendous force jerked him backward by the collar.

Ye Wang pulled him away from the stove, slamming the lid onto the wok with his other hand. He cranked the vent to full blast to disperse the smoke, then turned and snapped, "Jiang Qi, what the hell are you doing? You trying to fucking kill us?"

Author's Note:

Ye Wang (muttering): "I just asked him to wear an apron and cook! Is this his idea of vicious revenge?"