Chapter 23 Ten Thousand Chapters

Chapter 23: Wan Zhang

Yisang stood by the window, watching Idris step through the main gate through the glazed glass. With the visitor gone, the manor fell silent once more, leaving only the soft rustling of the breeze passing through the courtyard.

*Creak.*

The butler pushed the manor's heavy door shut, the seam where it met like the closing teeth of a giant beast, securing the manor within.

Through the glazed glass, Yisang stared fixedly at the golden, intricately carved gate. The vertical bars of the gate grew longer in the deepening night, their gray shadows extending several times over, transforming into countless claws surging toward him.

*Click.*

The manor's lights automatically turned on.

Warm yellow lights came on one by one. Yisang, half-bowing his head with long lashes lowered, concealed the reluctance in his eyes within the interplay of light and shadow.

After an unknown length of time, the golden gate was pushed open again from the outside. A white-haired, red-eyed male hurried past the butler who was about to speak, heading straight for the entrance. The moment he stepped inside, his red eyes sharpened, keenly detecting a few unique traces of scent.

Ivar's heart tightened. He strode toward the window, and only relaxed internally once he was closer to the male.

"Master." Ivar wrapped his arms around Yisang from behind. Feeling Yisang's hands were slightly cool, he immediately took off his coat, wrapping Yisang in his embrace. Pressing against his back, he asked softly, "How was your day?"

Yisang continued looking out the window without turning his head, replying lightly that it was fine.

Seeing Idris naturally made him happy.

It was just that the little one stayed too short a time, leaving after only a few words.

He wondered when they would meet again.

Ivar was accustomed to Yisang's lukewarm attitude and still eagerly asked for more details. Yisang remained detached but patiently answered each question one by one.

Although the responses were brief, the back-and-forth between the two of them created a relatively harmonious atmosphere.

Until Ivar asked if there had been any visitors today.

The room fell into a heavy silence.

Yisang's silence was like a sharp blade, piercing the corner Ivar feared most.

If he wasn't mistaken, the faint, lingering scent in the room should belong to a male.

Ivar felt a pang of regret. He shouldn't have gone out alone. He was only gone for half a day, and already a male had come into the house. If he were gone a whole day...

The thought tightened Ivar's throat. Suppressing the jealousy churning within, he put on a gentle and virtuous facade and asked, "If Master doesn't want to answer, I won't ask. However, if you feel the manor is too quiet and want more company, you must tell me. I will help you select concubines. You know, I am most skilled at choosing males."

He had said this countless times, and Yisang had never believed him. Ivar was unhinged; at his worst, he had nearly killed a soldier who wanted to become his concubine.

But even in his madness, Ivar shouldn't fail to recognize the source of the scent.

"Ivar, can you truly not distinguish whose scent this is?" Yisang tilted his head, his tone calm.

Yisang's retort struck like lightning, almost causing Ivar to lose his composed facade. He quickly analyzed: the visitor must be someone he was familiar with.

But how could that be? Over the years, Yisang had been confined to the manor, rarely going out to attend events. He knew the background of everyone Yisang knew.

Could Yisang have recently become acquainted with a male familiar to him?

Ivar ran through all the familiar males in his mind, comparing them one by one, but still had no clue.

He felt a twinge of annoyance. He should have secretly reinstalled the surveillance, but recalling Yisang's warning, the thought was instantly thrown to the back of his mind.

"How would I know your guest?" Ivar turned his head to kiss Yisang's neck, suppressing his jealousy, softening his voice as he said, "Master, you still haven't said, do you wish to take on concubines?"

"Since you're so virtuous, then go and apply for a match for me tomorrow," Yisang went along with it.

Ivar instantly stiffened: "Master, are you truly going to apply for a match?"

Yisang nodded, smiling as he patted Ivar's hand, even thoughtfully reminding him not to forget, saying he was waiting for new males to move into the manor, and then he could invite friends over for a lively gathering.

"Then what kind of concubine does Master want me to help you select? One like today's visitor? But you have to tell me who the visitor was, what they were like..." Ivar's red eyes suddenly narrowed, but his voice grew even softer, while the arm encircling Yisang's waist tightened more and more, almost wanting to embed him into his own body.

Ivar rested his chin on top of Yisang's head, murmured darkly, "You tell me, and I'll help you bring him back, alright?"

"Do you want him alive, or dead?" Ivar's smile grew increasingly cold and twisted. "How about alive? I'll discipline him for you personally, alright? I know best what you like..."

"Ivar, let go!" The pain in his side made Yisang extremely uncomfortable. He gripped Ivar's wrist, trying to pull it away, but Ivar's strength was immense; he couldn't budge it at all. "Ivar, it hurts..."

The moment the word "hurt" left his mouth, Ivar's arm reflexively relaxed. Seizing the chance, Yisang pulled away the arm restraining his waist, pushed Ivar away, and swiftly moved closer to the window.

Ivar's emotional fluctuations tonight were too great, very unusual.

After Yisang moved away, Ivar stood frozen in place. Maintaining the embracing posture, he looked at Yisang in panic, wanting to approach but nailed to the spot by the natural wariness the male displayed.

The same look had appeared many years ago as well.

"Master..." Ivar *thumped* to his knees on the floor. He slightly raised his head, his tone fearful, his red eyes, moistened with unshed tears, appearing even brighter. "I didn't mean to... You know, I haven't lost control in a long time. If you're angry, you can punish me, just don't drive me out of the manor again. I would go mad without seeing you."

Yisang rubbed his throbbing, sore side, stepped past the male, and sat on the sofa. Receiving no response, Ivar's face instantly paled. He shouldn't have been overconfident, shouldn't have asked more, shouldn't have brought up concubines again.

He had angered the Master.

"Master..." Ivar bit his lip tightly, and soon bright red blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

"Ivar." Yisang called out sternly. "Come here."

Yisang's voice was like a pardon. Ivar quickly snapped back to attention, turned around, and crawled on his knees to the side of the sofa. Looking up at Yisang, suppressing the unease in his eyes, he obediently knelt beside him. "Master..."

Yisang leaned expressionlessly against the sofa armrest. Raising his hand, he used his thumb to wipe away the unsightly blood from the male's lips. Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, it was suddenly grabbed.

Ivar gazed silently at Yisang. Seeing the one before him showed no sign of disgust, he relaxed his stiffened spine, leaned down, and meticulously licked the bloodstain from the fingertip clean. Then, burying his face in those hands he had meticulously cared for, he rubbed against them like a dog.

Yisang liked his harmless, docile appearance best.

He would win forgiveness.

"Let go." Yisang withdrew his hand, glanced at the moisture left on it, then lazily extended it back, propping his head as he ordered, "Wipe it clean."

Ivar replied 'yes' and was about to get up to fetch water when Yisang's command of "don't move" nailed him back to the spot.

Left with no choice, he pulled a wet wipe from the table and meticulously cleaned each of Yisang's flower-stem-like, knuckle-defined fingers one by one.

Finally, he deftly took the hand cream from the guest table drawer and carefully applied it evenly to those pale, fine hands. Throughout the entire process, Ivar acted with utmost care and attentiveness, as if holding the world's most precious treasure.

Yisang looked down at this scene, his expression gradually softening. After both hands were cleaned, he used his current posture to stroke Ivar's cheek, as if fondling a cherished collection piece.

After a while, he slowly spoke: "Ivar, I'll say this for the last time. I don't need concubines. If you still can't remember, then I will grant your wish and fill this manor with males."

"No—" Ivar cupped Yisang's hand, urgently turned his face to press against it, rubbing a few times like a small animal, then planting a flurry of kisses on Yisang's palm. "I won't do it again. Master, forgive me one more time, alright~"

Yisang stared fixedly at those crimson lips, humming in acknowledgment. This time, he didn't withdraw his hand, but casually mentioned his backache.

Ivar caught the implication immediately. Maintaining his position, he skillfully began massaging the male's waist. As he drew closer, Yisang caught a faint scent of pheromones from the female's neck.

Under normal circumstances, unless a female willingly releases them or there is an extremely high compatibility match, their pheromones are virtually undetectable to others beyond a social distance.

Unless...

Yisang calculated the days and asked, "Ivar, your heat is approaching, isn't it?"

The female, who had been focused on the massage, stopped abruptly. He had been so busy dealing with the MPA lately that he had completely forgotten about this.

"Mhm." Ivar hung his head, his long hair obscuring most of his face. In the shadows, his expression darkened several shades. He had finally managed to earn his Male Master's forgiveness and thought he might get to do something more, only to have his heat ruin it again!

"Male Master, then I'll move to the guest room on the first floor tonight," Ivar said after a moment's thought, obediently requesting, "During my heat these next few days, could you please not go out, Male Master? It's unsafe outside recently, and I'd worry if you went out alone."

Yisang admired his rarely so-submissive primary consort. He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he sat up slightly straighter, placed his hands on Ivar's shoulders, leaned down until their foreheads touched, and held the position for a long moment before resuming his original posture.

After scrutinizing the still-dazed female from left to right for a good while, Yisang deliberately took advantage of Ivar's muddled state, hooked a finger under his chin to make him stand up, and said, "I hate it when you kneel. If there's a next time, I won't let you off lightly, understand?"

Ivar stood to the side, nodding obediently, looking a bit dazed.

Amused, Yisang teasingly tapped Ivar's lips, yawned, and turned to leave, only to be pulled back. The female gazed at him, his eyes holding an affection deep enough to drown an insect.

"Male Master..." Ivar pursed his lips, looking at the male with longing.

Ivar's puppy-like demeanor pleased Yisang. Smiling, he turned back, wrapped an arm around the female's neck, and bit the coveted red lips he had been eyeing. But he was restrained, only giving a brief taste. When the female, dissatisfied, tried for more, Yisang turned his head away.

A greedy cat shouldn't be fed too full.

"Male Master, please don't go out these next few days, okay?" Having gotten his treat, Ivar knew he was forgiven. So, encircling the male's waist, he pushed his luck.

"That depends on your performance."

"I'm hungry. Go prepare some food." Yisang pulled away, paused, then added offhandedly, "Oh, Idris came back today."

Idris? Was the scent in the room his?

Yisang lowered his eyes unhappily. Sure enough, whenever that insect child was involved, nothing good ever happened. That brat was born to be his nemesis.

Idris was unaware that his sudden visit had nearly sparked a domestic war. When he returned home, Samuel was enthusiastically tapping away on a virtual keyboard, ruthlessly delivering gut-punches in his livestream.

The livestream was filled with a chorus of laments, screens full of question marks and curses, startling new viewers who thought their connection had lagged. They kept exiting and re-entering repeatedly.

Once all the new viewers finished the update, they resolutely joined the "gut-punch army." This cycle repeated, and the "gut-punch faction" grew larger and larger. Naturally, a hashtag trended on the StarNet: #IDK if the male insect will die, but I'm gonna die from these plot twists!, incidentally gaining him a wave of new fans and a heap of resentment.

If you asked which insect netizens loved and hated the most recently, everyone would unanimously type the name "Lin An."

Samuel remained blissfully unaware that he had shredded the netizens' hearts. Hearing movement downstairs, he quickly typed a few words, then dashed downstairs to beg Idris to make him some cupcakes.

The netizens stared at the words "Hungry, update tomorrow" and gnashed their teeth in unison.

"Streamer! You stopped right at the crucial part again!"

"Insect God! How am I supposed to get through tonight?!"

"Your Excellency Anatole is so gentle! If you don't like Lucas, just say it clearly, and you even apologized to Lucas!"

"Hah! A gimmick! I'll wait and see if this male insect ends up killing himself or not!"

＊

[……

I heard Phoenix's name again many years later, at a banquet.

The Master of the banquet had once served alongside Phoenix in the Fourth Army's expedition.

Recalling the past, he said Phoenix was his lifesaver and the most valiant military male he had ever seen. Wherever Phoenix was, the battle situation was always resolved the fastest.

If not for fate's envy of his talent, he would undoubtedly have been the insect with the fastest military promotion that year.

That insect also said that before his death, Phoenix had entrusted him with delivering a ring and a diary to an insect named Anatole. But despite searching for so many years, there had been no trace.

I can't remember my reaction after hearing those words. I kept thinking, how could Phoenix already be dead?

My sire and carrier had clearly told me he was injured on the battlefield, didn't want to see me, didn't want to be found, and had gone to live in another star system.

But how could that be?

When I disguised myself as a sub-male, Phoenix didn't even mind my gender. How could he abandon me just because he was injured?

I didn't believe my sire. I hired insects to investigate privately. After receiving the same results, I broke down.

Like a mad insect, I rushed to the star system where Phoenix lived. From afar, I saw him being intimate with a male.

Phoenix was married.

The male wasn't me.

After that secret visit, I was despondent for a long time. I still refused to believe what I had seen, but reality forced me to yield.

I was compelled to fulfill my marriage contract with Lucas. Lucas seemed quite satisfied with this outcome.

I had no intention of probing his thoughts. Since my primary consort wasn't Phoenix, who it was didn't really matter anyway.

After all, my feelings had never been important.

……

I refused to believe the fact that Phoenix had already died in that war long ago.

So, after that banquet, I asked an insect to contact the banquet's Master. I told him I knew Anatole's whereabouts and could help deliver the keepsakes. I also asked, in passing, about Phoenix's gravesite.

Over a hundred years later, I saw Phoenix again.

But I was old and frail, while he remained young and handsome as ever.

……

Before Phoenix's tomb, I laughed like a dying bird, desperate and deranged.

How laughable. My sire, my carrier, and even my primary consort had meticulously woven a vast net, sheltering me within it, deceiving me for half my life.

But now, I had no one left to confront.

My sire had passed away several years prior.

My carrier and my primary consort had both perished on the battlefield in the war between the Empire and the Federation.

They were heroes of the Federation, the pride of their family, spoken of with reverence by all, with no one knowing what they had done to me.

Hatred burned within me.

Yet to my sorrow, I realized I couldn't bring myself to resent them.

My sire fought on the battlefield, protecting me through my childhood. My mate sacrificed himself to secure half a lifetime of peace for me.

Since I benefited from their kindness, what ground did I have to blame them for deceiving and lying to me?

Upon careful reflection, the one I should truly blame is myself.

If I hadn't gone to the military academy, I wouldn't have met Phoenix. If I hadn't craved warmth and accepted Phoenix's confession, he wouldn't have risked his life to earn military merits.

When all is said and done, I was the origin of this web of lies and tragedy.

I, above all others, am the one who most deserves to die.

…

[I am a male Zerg, and today I have decided to die.]

"Holy shit!!! He really killed himself!!"

The screen was almost completely filled with text, and the net insects who saw the ending first lost it.

They truly hadn't expected anyone would dare to pull a stunt like this!

The onlookers also couldn't hold back! They initially thought the livestream title was just a gimmick and wanted to see the streamer make a fool of himself, but they ended up getting drawn into the story and were utterly devastated by the tragic ending.

"No way! It was quite happy earlier! How did it get so tragic later!! Is the streamer crazy??"

"...Impressive."

"The streamer really has nerves of steel, this bug is convinced!"

"I don't know why, but I feel somewhat uncomfortable, yet I can't pinpoint what exactly makes me feel that way. I just feel so powerless."

"Confined, deceived, kept in the dark, yet unable to hate or resent. Anyone would go mad."

"That's ridiculous, what does Anatole have to complain about? His sire and mate protected half his life with their deaths. And in the end, he still resents them. This male Zerg is simply ungrateful."

Samuel was completely unaware of the storm brewing in the comments section. After typing the last few words, he stared at the screen, feeling a sense of loss. He had spent days depicting Anatole's peaceful life in his later years and had also woven a beautiful dream for the net insects.

He had wondered whether to keep the bloody reality outside this fantasy and give the male Zerg a happy ending in the conventional sense.

At least let his death be beautiful and serene.

Torn by indecision, he asked Idris.

After hearing the story, Idris said with utmost seriousness that if it were him, he would rather die with clarity than indulge in false happiness.

These words struck a chord in Samuel's heart. He stopped hesitating and, following the predetermined plan, wrote of Anatole's despair, struggle, accusations, and self-destruction.

Anatole was not a perfect character. He wasn't perceptive enough, nor strong enough. He couldn't see the slaughter beneath the rules, nor could he protect his lover.

His life was arranged, deceived, and bound. He was pitiful and pathetic.

Yet when, through the words, he saw Anatole calmly and resolutely commit suicide, an indescribable ache welled up in Samuel's heart, as if it were another version of himself walking toward death.

Suppressing the strange feeling in his heart, Samuel glanced over the last line on the screen and solemnly typed "The End." Then, he switched the livestream to the background, stood up, pushed open the window, leaned on the windowsill, and let the breeze brush against his face.

He missed his brother a little.

I wonder what Idris is doing right now?

He glanced at his wrist, then excitedly changed his clothes and left the villa despite 99's persistent attempts to stop him.

The Zerg city was peculiar. Not only were the buildings scraping the sky, but the roads were even built mid-air. Standing by the bus stop, Samuel scanned the crisscrossing roads above and let out a heavy sigh.

He finally understood why his brother didn't want him going out alone.

Who would have thought he'd get lost just fifteen minutes after leaving home!

Samuel was somewhat distraught and had to open the map app again. He entered the restaurant he wanted to go to, zoomed in on the map with two fingers, then opened the traffic route map for different layers on the left side, struggling to determine his own location.

"Left side, second intersection, go straight."

Samuel looked up: "..."

To his left was a straight road with no second intersection.

After studying it on the spot, turning in circles for a long time, Samuel realized he wasn't just lost—he was lost on the map too.

But the location and layers were correct, how could the road be wrong?!

Samuel felt like crying but had no tears.

As a last resort, he opened Bulan's chat window. Hearing that the male Zerg had gone out alone and gotten lost, Bulan broke into a cold sweat and hurriedly instructed him to stay put, share his location, and wait for him to contact a nearby friend to pick him up.

Samuel replied "okay" and then, utterly bored, spent five minutes counting the hovering vehicles overhead. Just as he counted to 148, a clear, elegant male voice came from behind.

"You must be Samuel?"

Samuel turned around to see a man with long hair and purple eyes slowly approaching him. The man wore an exquisitely tailored white suit with a wisteria brooch pinned to his chest, exuding a calm and elegant demeanor.

Seeing the newcomer, Samuel was momentarily stunned; those purple eyes were like twins to Idris's: "Yes, you are... Your Excellency Yisang?"

Yisang smiled and nodded.

It was no wonder Samuel hesitated. Bulan had said someone would come to pick him up but had only described the name and features without even providing a photo. When Samuel asked for one, the other side acted as if they'd seen a ghost, repeatedly saying they didn't have one.

Bulan's evasive attitude made Samuel curious. He thought perhaps Yisang had a strange temper and was difficult to get along with.

But now, having met him and chatted along the way, Samuel changed his view. Yisang was very talkative, amiable, and witty, a very pleasant companion.

It was rare for Samuel to feel a slight fondness for someone other than Idris.

"Your Excellency Yisang, have you been to the Worsley Restaurant?" Samuel hesitated for a while, feeling it might be presumptuous to ask directly, but he still asked.

Yisang nodded. Sensing that Samuel had something to ask, he slowed his pace and patiently waited for him to speak.

Receiving an affirmative answer, Samuel asked with a serious expression: "I've heard the food there is quite good, but I've never been. Your Excellency Yisang, since you've been there, could you recommend some dishes that female Zerg would like?"

"Female Zerg?" A hint of gossip and curiosity appeared in Yisang's eyes. "Do you have plans today?"

"No," Samuel said, somewhat embarrassed, touching the tip of his nose. "I want to order food for my brother who lives with me. I'm just afraid he might not like it, so I'm seeking your advice."

Brother?

Idris?

Yisang thought it over, carefully pondering the situation, feeling that the relationship between the young male and his family wasn't as simple as he had heard a few days ago.

However, this young male was rather thoughtful.

A gentle smile appeared on Yisang's face as he recalled and said, "The pan-fried snowfish, spaghetti Bolognese, beef consommé, and rose lychee mousse at Worsley Restaurant are all very popular among females. You can give them a try."

Samuel's eyes lit up, and he hurriedly noted them down mentally, thanking him sincerely again and again.

After this back-and-forth, the man and the insect quickly arrived at the restaurant entrance. It was noon, and guests were coming and going at the door, most of them males.

However, each male was accompanied by two or more females, and males like Samuel who came alone were few and far between.

Samuel wanted to invite Yisang for a meal to thank him, but Yisang glanced at the roadside, shook his head, and declined with a smile.

After Samuel entered the restaurant, Yisang turned and walked toward an inconspicuous hovercar parked beside the restaurant. He opened the door and had just gotten in when the female in the driver's seat immediately leaned over.

"Master, it's getting late. How about we return to the manor?" Having not seen the male for several days during his heat, Ivar had no desire to linger outdoors. He only wanted to stay in the manor with the male.

"It's rare to come out," Yisang leaned on the female's shoulder, tugged the nearby tie to pull the female toward him, looked up and pecked the corner of the female's lips. "Accompany me for a stroll, hmm?"

Ivar gazed deeply at Yisang, unable to refuse—before his secondary differentiation, the male had loved sticking to him and going shopping together.

But times had changed, and things were no longer the same.

Ivar: "...Alright."

The hovercar by the roadside steadily rose into the air and disappeared into the sky in a flash. Samuel withdrew his gaze, biting back his distaste for the noisy environment, took a sip of his drink, and quietly scanned the room.

The restaurant was packed at the moment, with every seat fully occupied, mostly by females. Each female surrounded the males, serving tea, pouring water, arranging dishes, and wiping mouths—attending to every need meticulously.

The males took it for granted, only moving their mouths throughout the entire meal, as if half their bodies were paralyzed.

Samuel shivered. Males among the insect race really knew how to... indulge. Even when he was young and had over a dozen servants attending to him, it never reached this extent.

If things continued like this, wouldn't insects become completely helpless?

"Hello, your... meal will be ready soon. Would you mind giving up your seat in advance?" The sub-female server stood awkwardly to the side, hands tightly clenched, voice trembling slightly.

The inquiry snapped Samuel out of his thoughts. His gaze fell on the sub-female server before him, then shifted past the server to the counter at the side.

Behind the counter, the restaurant owner was smiling apologetically, seemingly offering repeated apologies. In front of the counter, a slender insect was surrounded protectively by other insects, looking spoiled and displeased.

Samuel withdrew his gaze, having assessed the situation. He asked calmly how long until it was all ready.

"Fi... fifteen minutes or so." The sub-female server mopped his brow, nervously rubbing his hands together.

Samuel nodded slightly, his tone gentle. "Then I'll wait a bit longer. No rush."

Upon receiving the reply, a flicker of worry crossed the sub-female server's face. He leaned in slightly and whispered a reminder, "The one at the front is a male. As a sub-female, maybe you should yield to avoid..."

Another insect passed by, and the server stopped mid-sentence. However, Samuel understood the implied meaning and smiled, saying, "It's fine."

Considering the server's situation, Samuel reassured him, "Just relay the message as is. If there are any issues, let them come to me. No need to explain further."

The sub-female server whispered a grateful but anxious thank you. He cautiously glanced back and happened to meet the scrutinizing gaze of the male at the counter, startling him into immediately lowering his head.

Samuel followed his line of sight and met his eyes. His expression remained composed; he only glanced briefly before indifferently withdrawing his gaze, paying no mind to the warning looks from the surrounding females.

In the distance, the male froze for a moment upon clearly seeing Samuel's full appearance. The seated sub-female had fair skin and dark hair, with distant eyes that neither avoided nor welcomed his gaze before lightly shifting away, as if nothing in the world could capture his attention.

The male had never seen such a stunning and unique sub-female. Unconsciously, he stepped forward, ignoring the startled cries and shouts behind him.

A few seconds later, the male sat down opposite Samuel, pretending to be a gentleman as he asked, "Is anyone sitting here? If it's convenient, could we share the table?"

Samuel took a sip of his drink and said slowly, "It might not be very convenient."

Male: ...

Since when have sub-females become so bold!

"This sub-female actually dares to refuse a male?"

"Just wait, the MPA will definitely make him suffer once they find out."

"How strange—a male got rejected."

"Eh? Isn't that Your Excellency Miguel?"

The faint peeking and discussions from all around made Miguel feel somewhat embarrassed. The awkwardness of being rejected and the humiliation of being talked about transformed his initial amazement into anger.

If he refuses a toast, he'll have to drink a forfeit. Then don't blame me for being impolite.

Furious, Miguel looked around and shouted at the following Concubines, "What are you standing around for? Today, I'm sitting right here. Hurry up and drag this sub-female away!"

Upon hearing this, the Concubines felt somewhat troubled. The sub-female had arrived first and was only waiting for about ten minutes; it really wasn't necessary to publicly drive him out. However, they had no choice but to obey the Master's command.

Since morning, the Master had started becoming irritable for no reason—it happened every month, though this month seemed a bit earlier.

If they couldn't calm his irritability, the Master wouldn't provide pheromones. Then, like the main wife who had angered the Master, they would have to painfully endure their heat over the next few days amidst the turmoil in their Mind Sea.

The Concubines exchanged glances. One of the females stepped forward and was about to reach out to pull Samuel when he was entangled by countless psychic threads. The threads slowly tightened, and blood seeped from the Concubine's wrist. He looked up in astonishment, "You're an S-class female?"

Samuel didn't answer the Concubine. Instead, he turned to Miguel, tilting his head slightly. "Just waiting a few more minutes isn't a big deal. There's no need to resort to force. It wouldn't be good if someone gets hurt."

"Wait a few more minutes?" Miguel didn't care at all about the Concubine's injury. Furious, he laughed coldly. "As a female, you not only fail to yield to a male but also act so arrogantly. You deserve to be sent to the disciplinary center by the MPA!"

"Is that so?" Samuel raised an eyebrow. "Then you can try and see if you can succeed."

Miguel was left speechless. This was the first time he had encountered a female who wasn't afraid of the MPA. "You... you..."

The male stammered "you" for a while but couldn't form a complete sentence. The insects in the restaurant watched the scene like a show, covering their mouths as they whispered and chuckled.

Just as Miguel was on the verge of exploding from embarrassment and anger, the sub-female server pushed through the Concubines, holding a meal box and panting heavily as he shouted, "Sir, your meal has been packed."

Behind the sub-female server, the restaurant owner wore a wide smile, repeatedly apologizing to Miguel and promising to quickly arrange a seat for him. However, his warm efforts met with a cold shoulder, receiving no favorable response.

"Thank you." Samuel smiled at the sub-female server.

With the items now in hand, Samuel just wanted to quickly leave this crowded and noisy environment and head to the military department. Thinking of this, he activated his psychic energy, and the psychic threads unwound layer by layer from the Concubine's wrist like coils.

Freed up, Samuel eagerly reached out to take the meal box. Just as he was about to touch the handle, someone suddenly tugged his shoulder from the left side. The offered meal box didn't land properly and crashed to the ground with a clatter.

The sub-female server was scalded by the splashed soup and jumped back with a scream. The nearest Concubine quickly carried Miguel away, while Samuel remained completely still.

On the ground, the carefully arranged meal boxes were stacked like stairs. The top lid rolled under the neighboring table. The steak and dessert from the first layer were overturned on the floor, while the pasta from the second layer and the soup from the bottom layer mixed together into a messy stew.

Samuel stared blankly at the chaotic mess on the ground. His mood was as jumbled as the piled-up food.

So close.

Almost, he could've caught the lunchbox.

Almost, he could have successfully delivered the lunch to his brother.

Now, everything was ruined.

"Oops! How can you be so clumsy you can't even hold a thing steady? You've made a mess of the restaurant floor!"

A mocking cry came from not far away. Samuel followed the sound and saw Miguel leaning in his concubine's arms, wearing a provocative smirk.

In an instant, the pent-up frustration and irritation in his chest, along with the fury at the ruined meal, surged forth.

Samuel looked at Miguel and thought, it's all this insect's fault.

If he hadn't pulled him, the food wouldn't have been ruined, and his brother wouldn't have missed the lunch he'd picked out.

To trample on someone's good intentions and gloat about it—how could a bug be so vile!

Samuel stared fixedly at Miguel, his gaze like icy blades, staring Miguel down until he shuddered, instinctively shrinking into his concubine's arms.

"You shouldn't have ruined my lunch," Samuel said, his eyes glinting coldly, suppressing his anger, spitting out each word.

"It was clearly your own fault for not holding it steady! What's that to do with me!" Miguel, certain the insect before him wouldn't dare act, turned the tables. "You, a lowly male, not only refused to give up your seat but dare falsely accuse a male insect? That's another offense!"

The male insect's words grew increasingly harsh, yet no one around intervened. All the male insects watched as if at a show, completely detached, while all the other males bore it silently, looking away.

Only the sub-male waiter ventured timidly, saying it seemed Miguel had pulled this gentleman, but before he could finish, Miguel slapped him and kicked him to the ground.

It all happened in an instant. Samuel was too far away, and by the time he picked his way through the mess on the floor, the sub-male waiter had already fallen onto the porcelain shards.

He reached out to help the waiter up, grasped his bleeding hand, and settled him into a nearby seat, intending to confront Miguel, but was pulled back by a pair of rough hands.

"Sir, Miguel is a B-grade male insect. You'd better not pick any more fights with him. Otherwise, when the MPA arrives, you'll end up in court and have to pay fines, or worse, be flogged. It's not worth it, just for a seat."

"It's fine," Samuel gave the waiter a reassuring smile, telling him to put pressure on the cut, then turned and walked toward Miguel.

"What? Come to your senses and decided to apologize?" Seeing the sub-male approach, Miguel adopted a haughty pose. "An apology might work, but you've ruined my good mood. If you're willing to kneel and kowtow in apology, I might consider letting you off."

"Apologize?"

Samuel's gaze swept over Miguel's face, neck, inch by inch downward, finally settling on those slender, pale wrists.

"An apology is indeed in order," he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a deceptively soft smile. "But not from me—from you."

Miguel, not sensing the danger, lowered his head and widened his eyes in disbelief, shrieking, "You, a lowly male, dare to demand an apology from me!"

Demanding a male insect apologize to another male was a slap in the face to all male insects. Miguel's face flushed red with anger instantly, and he angrily raised his hand toward Samuel, planning to slap him again.

Samuel neither dodged nor avoided it. Just before the palm could land, he instinctively and precisely seized the approaching wrist. Without noticing his own overly swift reaction, he dragged Miguel before the sub-male waiter, pressed him down, and said, "Apologize!"

"I won't!" Miguel struggled to break free but was held tight.

Seeing this, the concubines all rushed toward Samuel, but as soon as they took a step, they were tightly bound by bursting psychic threads and flung against the wall. Instantly, screams and the sound of objects falling erupted, and the restaurant descended into chaos.

The restaurant owner, trembling like a leaf on the side, had to pluck up his courage to persuade Samuel to let go, but to little effect.

The commotion on the first floor quickly caught the attention of the insects dining on the second floor. Some even leaned against the railing with legs crossed, cracking melon seeds and enjoying the spectacle.

Li'an, having finished his meal, was weaving his way around the onlookers to head downstairs to the military headquarters when a familiar voice rooted him to the spot. He looked down and saw a familiar figure using a familiar method to teach a male insect a lesson.

That male insect was being held by the wrist and cursing loudly. "Crack!" A crisp sound echoed, followed by the male insect's agonized wail reverberating through the restaurant.

"Decided yet?" Samuel asked softly, holding Miguel's now slightly twisted wrist. "Will you apologize?"

"No... apology," the once smug male insect now pale as paper, his lips trembling so much he could barely speak, yet unexpectedly stubborn.

"...Quite the backbone," Samuel stared fixedly at Miguel, dark eyes churning with anger, yet his voice was extremely gentle. He leaned close to Miguel's ear and said, "Since you're unwilling to say it, how about we try a different approach?"

Samuel's smile didn't reach his eyes as he tightened his grip. Another scream exploded in the restaurant.

Instantly, Miguel's forehead was covered in a dense layer of cold sweat. The pain in his wrist shot through his body like lightning, so intense his legs went weak and he could barely stand. The concubines, who had managed to get up, tried to approach again but were blocked by an invisible wall woven from psychic threads.

The onlookers, seeing the situation escalate and the male insect injured, quickly called the police and the MPA. Meanwhile, Li'an swiftly made his way to the scene of the conflict on the first floor.

"Li'an! Save, save me!" Miguel, seeing a familiar insect, instantly regained his spirit. Not daring to move recklessly, he twisted halfway around and screamed, his voice ragged, toward Li'an, "This lowly insect has gone mad! He's going to break my hand!"

Samuel tilted his head and looked at Li'an, asking with a half-smile, "Are you going to save him?"

The familiar gaze, the familiar actions—memories of that near-suffocating day came flooding back. Li'an couldn't help but shiver and quickly shook his head frantically to show where he stood.

But he couldn't just let Miguel's wrist be broken, so he advised, "Miguel, you were in the wrong first. You really should apologize to Sir Samuel!"

Li'an emphasized the word "Sir" heavily, but Miguel, seeing a familiar insect turn against him and defend the perpetrator, was instantly blinded by rage. "Li'an! How dare you take this lowly male's side! You don't deserve to be a male insect! You're a disgrace! A traitor!"

"Not taking your side makes me a traitor?" Li'an laughed in anger. "That's a double standard!"

"Shut your mouth!" The male insect's sharp curses stabbed into Samuel's skull, making his head throb. Impatiently, he increased the pressure. "Crack!" The sound of a wrist breaking coincided with the restaurant door opening.

By the time Bulan rushed into the restaurant with the MPA staff, Miguel's hand was already broken, and he was writhing in pain on the ground. Beside him stood a bug who looked thoroughly displeased.

"Sir! Are you alright!"

Bulan recognized Samuel and rushed worriedly toward the two insects. Miguel, finally seeing someone who could uphold justice, feebly stretched out a hand, determined to cry, make a scene, and threaten suicide to have the lowly male who injured him sent to the disciplinary center.

But to his surprise, no one came to help. He glanced sideways and saw the MPA official, allowed past the psychic threads, walk right past him to the perpetrator and ask, "Sir, how are you? Are you feeling unwell anywhere? Is your head hurting?"

"Hmm," Samuel said coldly, pointing to his temple. "It hurts. Feels like it's about to explode."

Bulan: !

Bulan immediately grew tense. "Where's the Doctor! Why isn't he here yet!"

"Make way! Make way!" The doctor, carrying a medical kit, swept into the restaurant like a whirlwind from the entrance.

Seeing this, Li'an assisted the MPA workers in ushering the nearby patrons away and coordinated with the male insects at a nearby table to clear a clean spot for Samuel to sit.

"Sir, your headache is most likely caused by excessive release of psychic power. Try to avoid using your psychic power as much as possible and get plenty of rest," the doctor said, packing the instruments away. After a moment's thought, he added cautiously, "It would be best to go to the hospital for a thorough examination when you have time."

Assured that Samuel was mostly fine, Bulan felt half the tension drain away. Insect God knew how tense he had been the moment he entered, seeing Samuel and the mess on the floor.

Thankfully, the insect was alright, just...

Bulan looked at Miguel beside him. While the doctor was examining Samuel, Li'an had already led the sub-male waiter to explain the whole story to him.

Bulan's usual smile vanished from his lips, his expression stern, his tone severe. "Sir Miguel, you should not have rudely demanded that Sir Samuel give up his seat, nor should you have deliberately knocked over the lunchbox. By any measure, you owe Sir Samuel an apology!"

"Sir? He's not a lowly male?!" Miguel finally realized.

Bulan nodded, not mentioning Samuel's rank, but his actions had already told Miguel that Samuel outranked him.

This time, Miguel didn't stubbornly resist. Clutching his bandaged wrist awkwardly, he wisely bowed respectfully to Samuel, though Samuel stepped aside, refusing the bow.

"You smashed a box of my things, and I broke one of your hands. We're even," Samuel said, pointing to the sub-male waiter who was getting his wounds bandaged. "The one you should apologize to is him."

"You want me to apologize to a sub-male?" Miguel exclaimed again.

That phrase again.

Always that phrase.

As if being a male meant any mistake could be forgiven, while females and sub-males deserved to kneel and apologize even when they had done nothing wrong.

"What's wrong with a sub-male? If you make a mistake, you apologize. What does being a male or a sub-male have to do with it?"

Samuel's words landed like a thunderclap, leaving every insect present stunned. The sub-male waiter looked utterly shocked. He frantically waved his hands. "I fell because I lost my balance. It has nothing to do with Your Excellency Miguel. There's no need for an apology."

"Your Excellency Samuel, thank you, but it really was my own carelessness," the sub-male waiter said, his face pale, eyes pleading.

If Miguel were to apologize to him today, tomorrow he would be thrust into the spotlight. For a powerless sub-male like him, living was hard, but dying was simple.

Samuel saw the sub-male waiter's fear and forced a wry, self-deprecating smile.

He had forgotten—this wasn't his hometown. There was no Mr. Democracy or Mr. Science (concepts personified as 'Mr. De' and 'Mr. Sai') here, no emerging ideals of equality and freedom. There was only class, status, and the ruthless oppression of the lower classes.

In that regard, the two worlds were no different.

And the insect race was even worse.

"Oh, fine," Samuel didn't press further. He brushed off his clothes, slowly raised his head, and stared at Miguel for a few seconds before speaking calmly. "You, come here. Kneel, kowtow, and apologize to me."

"You said we were even!" Miguel protested unwillingly.

"I changed my mind," Samuel pouted, turning to Bulan with a pitiful look. "Is that not allowed?"

Bulan: "..."

"Of course it is."

Before Bulan could respond, a clear, cold voice came from the entrance. Everyone turned to see a female insect with a grim expression striding in quickly.

Her gaze swept across the room, visibly relaxing when it landed on the seated Samuel. "Your Excellency, are you okay?"

"Not okay," Samuel stood up, dashed over and threw himself into her arms, tears welling up. "The lunch I bought for you was smashed, and I was bullied by a male."

"Brother, do the insects on the Imperial Star... not welcome me?"

The onlookers: ...

What great acting.

If we hadn't seen you take on five by yourself, we might have believed it.

-----------------------

Author's note: Which cover do you think looks better, my darlings? [Let me see]

Stellar Calendar 4056, August X, Sunny, Weekday X

Injured again before I knew it.