Chapter 316: Warning

Chapter 316 Warning

The room Ye Wang rented was completely empty. The old professor’s family had long since moved to a commercial-residential complex outside the school, leaving behind only furniture like desks, chairs, and beds—things too cumbersome to move—in the teacher’s dormitory.

Ye Wang took out his phone and began ordering essential daily necessities.

Bed sheets, a quilt, a toothbrush cup—he absentmindedly tossed a bunch of items into his cart. Finally, he switched to the food category and added a few cartons of milk.

He also bought an electric hot pot.

After finishing his purchases, Ye Wang thought for a moment, then added two VIP tickets to a concert—the same ones he’d seen in that guy’s breast pocket earlier.

Thirty minutes later, a drone dropped off the packages in the hallway outside, while the tickets were dropped into the mailbox.

Even in the Interstellar Era, some people still held onto old-school habits.

Ye Wang hauled everything inside and started warming the milk in the hot pot.

Jiang Qi next door was still up. He’d turned on the TV but wasn’t watching anything. The antenna futilely picked up meaningless electromagnetic waves, covering the screen in staticky snow. The speakers hissed with static.

The soundproofing in the old building was terrible. Ye Wang could hear every little thing next door—if Jiang Qi so much as shuffled or muttered, Ye Wang would catch it.

But Jiang Qi remained silent for a long time.

He seemed to be sitting on the sofa, staring at the static-filled screen, zoned out.

—Even at Pei Gu’s home, Jiang Qi had never been in such a state.

Ye Wang thought, *What’s his deal?*

Just then, the hot pot dinged, signaling that the milk was ready.

Ye Wang poured the milk into a mug—a pink one with a cartoon teddy bear on it.

He walked to Jiang Qi’s door.

The teacher’s dorm was set up like school classrooms, with several rooms lined up in a row along a long hallway. Each door had a glass window beside it, so anyone in the hall could peek inside.

Ye Wang took a look through the window.

Jiang Qi hadn’t turned on the lights.

He was indeed sitting on the sofa, the TV still displaying nothing but static. The staticky glow flickered in his eyes as he lowered his lashes, lost in thought.

Ye Wang rapped on the window. “Professor Jiang?”

Jiang Qi glanced up at him, then coldly averted his gaze.

Ye Wang chuckled. “Prof Jiang, you hardly touched your dinner. Aren’t you hungry? You’re gonna get hungry later.”

He held up the pink mug. “Professor Jiang? Want some milk?”

Jiang Qi stood up expressionlessly.

He walked to the door. Ye Wang thought he was going to open it, but instead, Jiang Qi met his gaze evenly—then suddenly jerked the curtains closed with a sharp *swish*.

Ye Wang: “...”

He asked, "You hate me that much?"

Footsteps sounded as Jiang Qi sat back on the sofa, couldn’t even be bothered to look at Ye Wang.

Ye Wang: "Oh come on, you *really* hate me that much?"

Jiang Qi refused to open the door, and Ye Wang couldn’t exactly break in—if Jiang Qi ended up beating him up, he’d have no leg to stand on. So he took a sip of the milk himself.

It was rich and sweet, a close match to Jiang Qi’s old favorite, strawberry milk.

The night had grown late, and with Jiang Qi ignoring him, Ye Wang had no choice but to retreat to his own bedroom. After showering, he sat on the bed and scrolled through his communicator, reviewing the files he’d missed over the past few months. Midway through, he suddenly heard a creak from next door.

It was the sound of rusted metal bed frame scraping.

The two rooms had a symmetrical layout, separated only by a wall with zero soundproofing. On the other side was Jiang Qi’s bedroom.

If he knocked on the wall now, Jiang Qi would probably leap out of his skin.

Without hesitation, Ye Wang raised his hand and rapped three times, chuckling, "Jiang Qi, sure you don’t want milk? You ate so little—you’ll regret it when your stomach acts up."

Next door, there was a sudden cough, followed by complete silence, like he’d been turned to stone.

Having lived alone for so long, Jiang Qi probably hadn’t realized just how thin the wall was—thin enough that Ye Wang’s knocking sent vibrations straight to his bed frame.

Ye Wang could hear every movement from Jiang Qi’s side, and Jiang Qi could hear Ye Wang just as clearly.

The commander’s incessant voice needled Jiang Qi like psychic static, grating on his nerves. He bit out, "No."

Ever since returning from the Empire, Jiang Qi had sworn off milk.

Ye Wang heard the rustling of fabric and the creaking of the metal bed.

As expected, Jiang Qi had likely decided to move to the sofa to avoid him.

Ye Wang’s voice dripped with teasing amusement, carrying through the wall, lingering pointedly: "The sofa’s so hard, can you really sleep well? And it’s cold—sleeping there might make you catch cold."

"..."

The tone was familiar—or rather, Ye Wang’s whole demeanor was *too* familiar—itchingly so.

Jiang Qi thought even the Empire’s interrogators weren’t as goddamn grating as Commander Ye. His legendary patience was hanging by a thread.

He really, really, *really* wanted to drag the man over from next door and beat him up.

The footsteps leaving grew faster.

Ye Wang’s mouth quirked. This version of Jiang Qi was way better than his frosty act. He took another sip of milk. "By the way, Jiang Qi, really not having any milk? It’s strawberry-flavored."

The subtext was practically neon-lit.

The footsteps stopped abruptly.

Jiang Qi’s voice came through the wall, like shaved ice: "Ye Wang."

It was the first time he’d addressed his superior by full name.

Ye Wang: "Yeah?"

Jiang Qi: "I know the Federation dug into me—and my husband too, no doubt. I don’t know how much you’ve learned or what you’re trying to get from me. But cut the crap. It’s not funny. Not even a little."

"Wait a minute," Ye Wang echoed strangely, "Did you say...your husband?"

...Who was he referring to?

That worthless Pei Gu?

Ye Wang was both annoyed and amused, thinking to himself, "You actually claim him as your husband?"

Jiang Qi's tone calmed down. He let out a self-deprecating laugh, laced with numbness and resignation. "I can't imagine what worth I still have that warrants such tactics from you. If this is a trial by the Federation, just tell me directly what you want me to do. I will obey unconditionally."

"...?"

Somehow, an ordinary flirtation had turned into a trial. Ye Wang pondered for a moment, then felt the two concert tickets in his sleeve. After a pause, he asked, "How about a concert, Professor Jiang? Care to join me?"

After a long silence, he finally heard Jiang Qi’s weary reply: "...I'll go."

It didn’t sound like an agreement to go out for fun, but more like a reluctant choice after giving up resistance.

So the next day, they took a flier together, heading to the Federation Concert Hall.

Jiang Qi looked listless, showing no trace of enjoyment. He sat stiffly beside the commander, weariness creased his brow. Ye Wang thought about it and felt that, given their current dynamic, he felt like some rich bully coercing a proper lady to accompany him, while Jiang Qi was the unwilling victim.

Though he enjoyed teasing Jiang Qi, this drained expression wasn't entertaining at all.

Ye Wang didn’t understand why, even after coming to the Federation—with siblings, sunlight, a soft bed, and sweetened milk in every flavor—Jiang Qi could still end up like this.

They settled into their seats in the VIP box.

The front of the box was one-way mirror, allowing the audience to see the stage clearly while protecting their privacy from prying eyes. The staff had considerately provided a fruit platter.

Ye Wang wasn’t picky, but he steered clear of sugary fruits due to his fitness regimen. So when the staff asked for his preferences, he chose based on Jiang Qi’s tastes.

"Strawberries, oranges, peaches. Two lemon-mint cocktails, one without the base alcohol." Ye Wang handed the menu to Jiang Qi. "Want anything else?"

Jiang Qi didn’t speak, but for some reason, his hand trembled slightly as he took the menu.

"No need," he replied hoarsely. "This'll do."

The concert soon began, featuring classical pieces from before the Interstellar Era. For a commander with mediocre appreciation for music, it was a perfect sleep aid.

The fruit platter and drinks arrived quickly. The commander lifted his glass and took a leisurely sip.

Like Pei Gu, Ye Wang came from a privileged background—his father was one of the current regional military commanders. Social graces, right down to wine etiquette, had been drilled into him since childhood. Even as he slouched casually on the sofa, his grip on the glass remained elegant and restrained.

Jiang Qi’s gaze lingered on his fingertips.

Pei Gu also liked curling up on the sofa like this, drinking in the same posture—the similarity was striking.

The difference was that Commander Ye was more striking, his fingers longer and more refined, with subtle gun calluses on the pads. When holding the glass, his hands looked like exquisite artworks.

But in the end, he wasn’t Pei Gu.

Jiang Qi remained motionless for a long time, so Ye Wang pushed the non-alcoholic cocktail toward him. "Give it a taste?"

Jiang Qi took it and sipped.

His face twisted in distaste.

The taste of the drink was also painfully familiar.

In the underground pool hall, Pei Gu had once pushed a drink toward him like this, also lemon-mint flavored.

But the lemon and mint of the Empire couldn’t taste exactly the same as those in the Federation, just as the drinks in a high-end concert hall couldn’t be identical to those in a lower-district pool hall. After his enhancements, Jiang Qi’s senses were sharp—if he wanted, he could even detect the most minute differences between lemons from different regions.

These two drinks were similar—yet not.

Just like Pei Gu and Ye Wang—similar, uncannily so, yet they were clearly not the same person.

In psychology, there was the uncanny valley effect. When things were either completely identical or entirely different, they could still be appealing. But if they were similar yet not the same, those slight differences would become glaring, jarring, triggering the brain's alarm bells, leaving one with a choking, sickening discomfort.

Like these two drinks, or perhaps…

Pei Gu and Ye Wang.

The refreshing taste of lemon and mint exploded across his palate, yet Jiang Qi was suddenly overcome with the urge to vomit. His stomach cramped and twisted, and though he endured in silence for a long time, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Excuse me, Commander Ye.” Jiang Qi stood. “I need to use the restroom.”

Downstairs, the orchestra was building to its crescendo, the conductor flailing passionately as violins and woodwinds merged into a sweeping crescendo.

Ye Wang nodded.

But even as the piece ended and the cello took over the bass’s position, preparing for the next performance, Jiang Qi still hadn’t returned.

Ye Wang checked his watch—he'd been gone twenty full minutes.

Ye Wang rose and walked down the corridor, pushing open the restroom door.

The VIP lounge shared a single luxurious restroom, and at the moment, aside from the empty counter, the only sound was faint retching from one of the stalls.

He hadn’t eaten much to begin with, yet the violence of his retching suggested he was trying to expel stomach acid.

Ye Wang paused, then knocked on the stall door. “Come on, Jiang Qi? That drink I gave you had no alcohol in it. How are you still throwing up—”

Before he could finish, the world spun.

Jiang Qi had somehow opened the stall door, seized Ye Wang by the shoulders, and yanked him inside. In one swift motion, he pinned the commander against the door, half his body pressing down to roughly immobilize Ye Wang’s limbs. His expression was downright ferocious, jarring against his delicate features, creating a disturbingly beautiful menace.

Jiang Qi spoke slowly, his voice low and dangerous. “Ye Wang, I’m warning you—stop mimicking him around me.”

“...”

The commander blinked once, then again.

He asked, “Imitate who?”