Chapter 126: A Pile of Snow Leopard Cubs
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
Lu Yao and his technical team spent a month testing and verifying that forward control of the temporal dark currents was indeed feasible. However, the precision was worrisome, making accurate return after entering the dark currents difficult.
Still, even a 67% recall precision was enough for the Federation’s high command to decide to initiate the temporal backtracking and Void Strike plan. As Chen Qiu had promised, the starships carrying the strike devices began production rapidly, and all energy supply sources started preparing the massive energy reserves required for the weapons. It nearly drained the Federation’s energy stores.
The public, noticing the abnormal energy activity and the seemingly idle Federation military, became suspicious and uneasy, while the energy accumulation in the Void Strike devices steadily rose.
When the energy reached 99.2%, Zhou Yunchen rushed from the frontlines of the beast war to the temporal dark current experimental zone. After a year separated across the stars, Lu Yao and Zhou Yunchen finally saw each other in person again, not as 3D projections. Yet this reunion was for an unusual farewell, after which another temporal chasm would fall between them. Perhaps even life and death.
In the slowly rotating, ring-shaped super experimental field, Lu Yao and Zhou Yunchen had some private time. Lu Yao asked once more, “Are you certain you want to do this? I can tell you clearly: the precision achievable by the star ring equipment is only 60%. If you complete the mission successfully, relying on the limited energy you carry to return to the original timeline, the precision will drop below 30%.”
Zhou Yunchen had reviewed the calculated precision values provided by Lu Yao’s team: 67% and 39.4%. Lu Yao stated them close to the threshold, seemingly to deliberately intimidate Zhou Yunchen.
Zhou Yunchen looked into Lu Yao’s ice-blue eyes. Director Lu’s expression was stern and rigid—cold and commanding, not a bluff of false severity—but Zhou Yunchen couldn’t help smiling slightly, earning Lu Yao’s perplexed frown and a sharp glare. “I am certain I will do this.”
“You are the Federation’s Supreme Military Commander. Personal heroics are not your domain,” Lu Yao said, his tone devoid of humor. The familiar phrasing returned, but this time Lu Yao’s words were sharper and more serious, reflecting the terrifying risks Zhou Yunchen faced.
Zhou Yunchen had experienced the helplessness and boundless loneliness of humans in a chaotic timeline yet still resolved to go through with it.
“Yaoyao, I do this for my own selfish reasons,” Zhou Yunchen replied with the same words. “Sometimes I wonder why only I was accepted by the temporal dark currents, and why, after drifting across the universe for years, it would return me to my original timeline. Perhaps everything has a reason. Perhaps because of you, I have the chance to become the Federation’s Supreme Commander and take this heroic gamble.”
“For your own selfish reasons…” Lu Yao repeated almost silently. The painful struggles in the empty universe and cold experimental stations, the glory of mecha born in his hands, and now the Void Strike plan sufficient to earn Lu Yao eternal renown—all these vividly colored fragments of time seemed entwined with Zhou Yunchen, etched into bone, inseparable forever.
Zhou Yunchen raised his hand to cup Lu Yao’s face, studying his eyes—transparent, like glass beads, swirling with complex emotions: anger, hesitation, thoughtfulness, concern… but no tears. Good. If Lu Yao cried now, Zhou Yunchen would truly be at a loss.
He had seen Lu Yao collapse in tears, had seen him cry shimmering, physiological tears under stress, nose reddened, irresistibly captivating. But now, about to part, it was better not to shed tears. Zhou Yunchen’s lips curved slightly; his eyes burned with deep affection, like fire in ice. “Yaoyao, this will be your great achievement. And I, like the snow leopard, exist for you. I will be your sword and shield.”
Lu Yao gripped Zhou Yunchen’s wrist, saying nothing for a long moment. He slowly lowered Zhou Yunchen’s hand from his face into his own palm. He looked at Zhou Yunchen’s rough, broad hand. “This experimental zone has been established for a year, with over ten thousand personnel. The Federation has even set up a civil affairs office here.”
“A civil affairs office?” Zhou Yunchen was startled by how quickly Lu Yao shifted the topic.
“Yes. The marriage rate in the zone is very high, especially after the great war. Normally, love doesn’t need legal or societal recognition, but the pessimism here is unavoidable. Many fear that human law and social ties may no longer exist in the future. When people meet someone they like, they marry. If humanity collapses, a marriage certificate can stand as a relic of civilization.”
“You want to register?”
Lu Yao blinked and held Zhou Yunchen’s hand tightly. “Yes. You don’t officially depart until the day after tomorrow, and the civil affairs office is open today.”
Looking into Lu Yao’s serious eyes, Zhou Yunchen couldn’t refuse. “Fine. Let’s go now.”
Thus, the Supreme Commander and Director became the last couple of the day at the civil affairs office.
Zhou Yunchen hadn’t prepared a ring. He didn’t expect Lu Yao to propose marriage now. He rummaged around and could only find the ring he had secretly prepared years ago, when he pretended to be a snow leopard to Lu Yao, as an electric shock switch.
There were no extras. Lu Yao wore the shock-ring, and Zhou Yunchen tied the old leather collar around his wrist as a large “ring.” Amidst the heavy, yet comically tense atmosphere of Mo Feng, Chang Jian, and Zhao Minghe, the ceremony was completed.
Afterward, Zhou Yunchen conjured his snow leopard ears, plucked a tuft of white hair, and gave it to Lu Yao. He then requested a strand of Lu Yao’s hair.
He explained, “In ancient Earth China, couples exchanged hair as a symbol of marital fidelity and love.”
Lu Yao eyed the leopard hair skeptically. “Why only the leopard hair? Where’s yours?”
“There are hundreds of billions of humans in the world, but only one snow leopard now. You may forget me, but you cannot forget this one snow leopard.”
After a moment of careful thought, Zhou Yunchen solemnly plucked a lock of his own hair for Lu Yao. Lu Yao looked at the balding patch of Zhou Yunchen’s temple. “I hope by the time you return, this hair will have grown back.”
“Alright, alright, stop showing off,” Mo Feng said. “Now follow the ancient Earth Chinese tradition and enter the bridal chamber.”
As Mo Feng teased them, Zhao Minghe received a message from Zhou Yunchen: “The civil affairs office window No. 2 has my signed personal agreement. Keep it. If I do not return within three years of the mission, give it to Lu Yao and tell him not to wait for me.”
Zhao Minghe took the agreement alone, his expression changing. It was a special marriage supplemental agreement, stipulating that if the signatory went missing during space operations for more than 18 months, the mate could legally consider them deceased and inherit all of the signatory’s estate.
Whether by intent or accident, the starship trial run the next day was scheduled for the afternoon, and Lu Yao and Zhou Yunchen, long separated, spent their wedding night in Lu Yao’s room, thoroughly engrossed.
The living area in the ring-shaped test field was small. Even Lu Yao had only one room with a bathroom. Torque lived with him and, startled by the strange noises from the humans, hid entirely inside the closet, burying himself in Lu Yao’s clothes.
That night, Zhou Yunchen’s mark was so deep that Lu Yao had to apply healing gel to the back of his neck the next day before work. The trial run presented no difficulty. Zhou Yunchen, having already commanded battles at the front, knew the starship structures thoroughly. He would take the massive unmanned starship Eternal into the temporal dark currents, returning twelve years to the past.
Over 80% of Eternal’s volume carried Void Strike devices. The remaining 15% stored the smaller starship Chang Geng, which housed the Distant Star mecha. Zhou Yunchen would take Eternal to a designated coordinate near the Alien Void and then pilot Chang Geng back.
Lu Yao and the researchers accompanied him for a final inspection of Eternal and Chang Geng, confirming all systems were functional. All equipment parameters were set. The next day, pressing the button would send Zhou Yunchen back in time along with the star ring test field.
Zhou Yunchen’s last dinner at the ring was Lu Yao’s homemade meal: braised pork ribs with potatoes, minced tofu, and dry-fried green beans. Despite Lu Yao almost using measuring cups and thermometers, the meal turned out quite good. After dinner, they avoided mentioning the unpredictable, dark future and played with Torque for a while before collapsing into bed.
Though Zhou Yunchen would depart the next day and shouldn’t engage in vigorous activity, he held Lu Yao from behind, continuing the activity with intensity. At first, Lu Yao didn’t resist. Zhou Yunchen, however, showed no sign of satisfaction. Lu Yao didn’t know how many times he climaxed from the sensitive stimulation. By the time he fell into deep sleep, his vision had already grayed. He felt Zhou Yunchen press a kiss into the corner of his eye.
Lu Yao was woken by a tickle on his nose from something furry, accompanied by a chorus of strange mewling sounds. His mind was still fuzzy. Drowsily, he wondered: Did Zhou Yunchen put his tail on my face again? And what is that weird noise… is that really how a snow leopard sounds?
He reached out to grab the snow leopard tail, but instead of a long tail, his hand caught something small and uneven. When he tugged on it, the thing swung him up into the air with a tiny “yooong—”
What the—!
Lu Yao was instantly awake. As soon as he opened his eyes, a small, scruffy, indigo-eyed snow leopard appeared before him.
!!!
What’s going on? Did Zhou Yunchen turn into a juvenile snow leopard? How can the mission even proceed like this?
A flood of questions slammed into Lu Yao’s brain. He shot upright, and as he did, the blanket flew off. For some reason, he felt lighter. Then more “yooong—yooong—yooong—” cries started erupting, overlapping one another.
Torque at the side of the bed puffed up all his fur, arched his back, and shouted at the tiny creatures on the bed. Lu Yao focused and realized that what he had thrown off the bed were… a whole group of silver-gray, furry snow leopard cubs.
What is going on here?!
Author’s note:
Snap! Transform!
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