Chapter 5

Chapter 5

As the two descended the stairs, a bustling breakfast stall had already sprung up around the corner. Yet, the lingering scent of last night's revelry hadn't entirely faded; the strong aroma of alcohol still permeated the air, carrying the decadent essence of the bar.

From a distance, the owner, Charlie, spotted Bai Luming. As soon as he entered, Charlie warmly called out, "Luming, here for breakfast?"

"Morning, Charlie," Bai Luming replied with a smile. He expertly pulled up a chair near the entrance, sat down, and let out another weary yawn.

Seeing Bai Luming's listless demeanor, Charlie's first thought was that he was still grieving over Lu Wuchen's death. He was about to offer some comforting words when he noticed He Yilan following closely behind.

It took Charlie a moment to realize that the two had come downstairs one right after the other.

As for the upper floors of their building—the apartment where Old Lu used to live had long been sold to cover funeral expenses, leaving only Bai Luming's top-floor attic occupied.

Had these two spent the night together?

Charlie couldn't help but cast a few more glances at He Yilan.

An unfamiliar face, someone he'd never seen before—a man whose origins were unknown.

In that brief moment, countless operatic scenarios flashed through his mind.

Bai Luming had already placed his order nearby: "Charlie, just my usual three, thanks."

Noticing He Yilan sitting beside him, he picked up a menu and handed it over: "See what you'd like."

He Yilan took the menu, flipped through it briefly, then closed it again: "I'll have the same as you."

Bai Luming gave him a faint, knowing smile: "Are you sure?"

He Yilan nodded, "Mm."

Bai Luming had intended to tell him that his usual order might not be to his taste, but after a moment's thought, he decided against it and simply asked Charlie to prepare another set.

Soon after, Bai Luming's "usual three" arrived: a glass of synthetic milk, a whole-grain bread roll, and a carefully processed grilled sausage.

An identical set was placed in front of He Yilan.

Charlie had been wanting to speak for a long time before finally seizing the opportunity to address Bai Luming while serving the meal: "Speaking of which, have you thought about what I asked you before? Old Lu left suddenly, but life must go on. Whenever you're willing, you can come work at my bar. The regulars here have always liked you, and as you know, this is a respectable place—I guarantee no one will lay a hand on you if you're not comfortable."

The words sounded familiar, and it took Bai Luming a moment to recall that he'd recently received quite a few similar offers of concern.

He smiled at Charlie: "Thanks, bro, but really, no need. Just yesterday, Brother Wang offered to introduce me to a club in the Upper City, and I turned him down too. I don't have the talent for it—can't handle drinking with guests."

Perhaps hearing the words "drinking with guests," Bai Luming noticed He Yilan glance in his direction.

"A club in the Upper City? That's definitely better than my place," Charlie replied, the words leaving him momentarily speechless and even more confused by Bai Luming's choices. "You don't even want to go to the Upper City? What are you planning to do next?"

Someone nearby chimed in, "You're not thinking of signing up for the military draft, are you?"

Charlie exclaimed, "Oh, now that you mention it, Draft Day is coming up soon! Seems like quite a few people from our area are planning to sign up this year, right? If anyone actually makes it into the military, it'd be the chance of a lifetime—something that'd make our entire district proud!"

"Haha, just joking, just joking. With Luming's slender build, he'd better not. The hardship of military life isn't for everyone."

Bai Luming laughed, "That's true, I couldn't handle the rigors of being a soldier."

The people eating breakfast at the stall consisted mostly of local neighbors, and once the conversation started, everyone began chattering enthusiastically.

Bai Luming exchanged a few more words with others, then picked up his bread roll and took a bite.

Come to think of it, the annual Draft Day was indeed approaching again.

How time flies.

Bai Luming still remembered how he'd been rescued by Old Lu after a sudden transition accident years ago. Now, in the blink of an eye, Old Lu had passed away first, and he himself had already been on this shabby little planet for three full years.

This would be his third Draft Day since arriving here.

The so-called Draft Day was when the Four Great Legions opened recruitment for new soldiers.

On that day, recruitment channels officially opened, and all citizens between the ages of 16 and 35, regardless of background or gender, could sign up at their local registration points. Those who passed the rigorous selection process and made it onto the final enlistment list would officially join the Four Great Legions.

Since its inception, Draft Day had become the sole screening channel for entering the Imperial Military. It was a ladder to success for many from the middle and upper classes seeking military careers, and for those in the lower districts where hope was scarce, it was practically the only chance to leap through the dragon's gate.

"The founding Four Great Legions…" someone couldn't help but sigh with longing, "If anyone from here actually made it in, their ancestors' graves would probably be smoking with pride."

"Absolutely. If only I'd been around when the insect swarms first emerged—I'd definitely have earned my share of the founding military honors."

"Get out of here, it's not even dark yet and you haven't had a drink, and already you're dreaming."

"Anyway, regardless, I bet plenty of people from here will sign up this year. Who knows, maybe one will make it."

"Want the truth? Those upper-class young masters all have family backing. Pure passion alone probably won't be enough to break through."

"Don't be so pessimistic. There's always a chance."

Bai Luming listened to their conversation and smiled along, "Yeah, there's always a chance."

Charlie glanced over, "What, listening to this, are you actually thinking of giving it a try?"

"Not me," Bai Luming waved his hand dismissively. "I doubt I'll ever have any connection to those legions. Such a great opportunity should be left to those with drive."

As he spoke, he slowly took a bite of the warm grilled sausage.

If one were to trace it back, this Draft Day was actually something Bai Luming had fought for with His Majesty the Emperor.

It was a sunny afternoon five years ago, clear skies with not a cloud in sight. He was strolling side by side with the esteemed Emperor in the rear garden, watching things fly by overhead… Well, although the empire had entered an era of peace after interstellar stability was achieved, the imperial star still prohibited any flying objects—not just birds, but all modern aircraft as well.

Bai Luming's proposal for Draft Day was simple: in his view, people of all social classes deserved a chance to realize their value. Perhaps those from the middle and upper classes indeed had easier access to better education and richer knowledge, but that didn't mean they alone could shape the entire future of the interstellar realm.

He didn't resent the wealthy; he simply believed that everyone deserved to have "hope." In his life, that word had always been shining and important.

At the time, he and His Majesty hit it off immediately, and Draft Day was born. Unconsciously, it had continued for so many years, and even the upcoming Four Legions exercise had been planned together back then.

Thinking of the past, Bai Luming felt a rare sense of nostalgia for his old friends.

Though they were all founding heroes who had earned great military merits on the battlefield, those others had clearly adapted better to post-founding life. Aside from him, each was still diligently working in their respective positions.

At the very least, their names frequently appeared in military reports.

Unfortunately, Bai Luming wasn't one to apply battlefield tactics to politics. In his view, rather than being forced to play political games with the cabinet every day, finding the right moment to retreat was perfect.

As the saying goes, lying flat feels great, and lying flat forever feels even better.

Compared to those elusive honors and merits, a life without having to go to work suited him far better.

Bai Luming took a sip of the synthetic milk from his cup and looked up to notice He Yilan's gaze fixed elsewhere, his breakfast on the table untouched.

He couldn't help but ask, "What are you looking for?"

He Yilan replied, "Fork and knife."

Bai Luming: "..."

Should I arrange a napkin and candles for you to have a candlelit breakfast?

"This is a bar; we don't stand on ceremony here." As Bai Luming spoke, he picked up the remaining bread and put it into his mouth. The way he took a bite clearly said—watch me, this is how we eat here.

He Yilan's gaze lingered on the breadcrumbs at the corner of Bai Luming's mouth for a long time before he finally picked up a napkin, slowly wiped his hands, and then tore the bread in front of him evenly into portions. He brought one of them to his mouth and took a bite.

Bai Luming swallowed the last of his bread and applauded in his head, utterly amazed.

Elegant, truly elegant.

From the start of the meal to the end, Bai Luming noticed He Yilan looking his way again and again.

Just as he was about to ask, he saw the man suddenly stand up, walk over to him, and lean in slightly.

Bai Luming clearly felt He Yilan's fingers gently brush the corner of his mouth. A magnetic voice whispered close to his ear: "You didn't wipe it clean."

The touch was fleeting but left a lingering warmth.

It took Bai Luming a long time to come back to himself after his vision cleared: "Ah, thank you."

Because of those breadcrumbs, He Yilan had been holding back for a long time, but ultimately, he couldn't resist his compulsion. After completing this series of actions, he was somewhat surprised by his own behavior: "...You're welcome."

Bai Luming got up and went to the front desk to pay the tab.

As he was about to leave, Charlie called out to him again: "Still not interested in working at my bar?"

"Really not." Bai Luming didn't know whether to laugh or cry at Charlie's persistence. After replying, he saw the other man shake his head regretfully, his gaze shifting from Bai Luming to a spot a few meters behind him.

Right where He Yilan was standing.

Charlie lowered his voice slightly: "What about this one? He's new around here. What's your relationship with him? Close? A few of my customers have already asked about him. They said he looks quite good. Whether it's you or him, if you want to work here, I'd welcome you with open arms!"

"This one…" Bai Luming imagined the scene of the head of Zhongsheng Machinery appearing in full formal attire at the bar and said sincerely, "If you want our entire lower district to be leveled, then by all means, keep welcoming him."

Charlie: "What?"

Bai Luming didn't explain Charlie's confusion. Before this gentleman could extend an invitation to He Yilan himself, he quickly ushered He Yilan out.

He had no intention of going upstairs together. Once they reached the downstairs area, he stuck a piece of paper into He Yilan's hand: "It's getting late. I have a lot of orders to handle at my shop, so I won't go up with you. The door upstairs isn't locked. Go up, pack your things, and head back on your own. Just remember to pay what's on here before you leave."

"Bills?" He Yilan opened the slip that had been thrust into his hand and saw a clear list of items, though he had no idea when the man had recorded them.

Aside from miscellaneous fees like cleaning, bandaging, coaxing to sleep, accommodation, electricity, and water, there were also medical supplies such as painkillers, Lasersu, a-g234 reagent, bandages, and even the cost of the synthetic milk, meal bread, and grilled sausage just purchased at the restaurant. Nothing was left out.

All spelled out, clear as day.

He Yilan handed the bill back to Bai Luming and pointed to one of the items with his fingertip: "I understand everything else, but what does 'conscience fee' mean?"

"Just what it says." Bai Luming smiled and explained, "After all, since I ran into you last night, I've been tied up dealing with you nonstop and haven't had a proper rest. As the saying goes, a debt of gratitude should be repaid… oh wait, no—a drop of kindness should be repaid with a gushing spring of gratitude. You know how much I've done for you. How much you think is appropriate to pay as thanks is entirely up to your conscience."

He Yilan understood: "Trying to cash in a favor?"

Bai Luming waved his hand: "No need to put it so elegantly. At most, this is just simple guilt-tripping."

Saving someone is a good deed, but of course, it shouldn't be done for free. When you're scraping by, if someone voluntarily offers extra tips, why turn it down?

"The account number is the one written on the paper, so I'll get going now. Goodbye."

Bai Luming glanced at the time, then turned and left just like that.

He Yilan watched Bai Luming's figure disappearing into the distance, standing still for a moment, and found it somewhat amusing.

To say this person pinches every penny, yet he left so decisively, not worried at all about being stiffed.

He Yilan returned to the attic, looked around, and spotted the clothes he had changed out of in the corner, with his particle gun and communicator laid out neatly on top.

The communicator was probably broken, but even if it weren’t, it wasn't going to be usable anyway.

Judging from last night’s events, his communication devices had likely been monitored—otherwise, those people couldn’t have gotten wind of his completely secret private plans so accurately.

There was a mole within Zhongsheng Machinery trying to take him down.

He Yilan pondered for a moment and felt this could actually work in his favor.

If he were to suddenly disappear, how would his family react?

The chaos that would unfold within the household was something he began to look forward to.

Perhaps he could drop his old identity and stay a while longer on this backwater, barren planet.

Speaking of dropping his old identity…

He Yilan suddenly remembered something.

He looked down at the paper still clutched in his hand.

His personal account was definitely unusable now, which meant, broke as he was, he was probably going to stiff this bill.

He Yilan: "…"

It had never crossed his mind that he would one day be stuck with such "huge" debt.

The only consolation was that the guy he owed money to seemed pretty interesting.

Might be fun to mess with.