Chapter 25: Shattered by Lu Yao

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

The documentary crew had arrived at the First Base just as Lus rose. Most employees had not yet started their shifts, and only Jensen from the publicity department was present to greet them.

The crew first shot a number of empty establishing scenes outside. When base employees began clocking in, they finally moved inside. Li Yan, as the special guest of the documentary, followed diligently without a single complaint, though he occasionally asked about Lu Yao’s whereabouts.

“Will Chief Engineer Lu be coming today?”

Yesterday, Lu Yao had taken leave, forcing the crew to film only routine daily work at the base. This worried them. Since the documentary followed a weekly-release format, filming and broadcasting each episode as they went, the absence of their leading figure threatened to ruin the very first episode.

But Jensen’s rank was too low to know Lu Yao’s schedule. He could only answer vaguely, “Chief Engineer Lu rarely takes leave. He should return soon. Would you like to continue filming, or take a break in the reception room?”

The cameraman and director exchanged glances. As the First Research Base gradually filled with activity, the mechanical clatter of machinery surrounded them from all directions. The grand, cold tableau of modern technology lit up their eyes.

“We’ll capture more footage of the base itself,” the director said. “Xiao Yan, there’s no scene for you right now. If you’re tired, you may rest a while.”

Li Yan nodded and prepared to leave the suspended skybridge on the third floor.

Though he was known in the industry as the son of a military family, respected for his diligence and endurance, and though he had arrived at the set early without a word of complaint, he felt no reluctance in stepping away from these colossal, intimidating mecha. He welcomed the chance to close his eyes and rest.

The experience of facing these towering machines in reality was utterly different from watching special effects in a film. But just as the two groups separated, Li Yan heard voices from the staircase ahead—heated discussions filled with technical jargon incomprehensible to most people.

Footsteps followed, a large group approaching, with several senior researchers clutching schematics and asking questions of those behind them. The downward curve of the stairwell blocked his view at first. He saw only a swirl of black hair, then smooth, pale skin on a forehead shining like ice.

Something stirred within him. He froze in place and whispered to his assistant, “Go get the director. Their star is here.”

“Huh?” The assistant blinked, confused. Star? Wasn’t Li Yan himself supposed to be the star? “Who’s here?”

Li Yan gave no reply. His gaze was fixed firmly on the stairs. As the figure’s face emerged from behind the steps, he could no longer look away. “It’s Lu Yao.”

Step by step, Lu Yao ascended, surrounded by colleagues. His face came into view first, then his shoulders, then his waist, like a painting unfurling slowly. The black coat draped over him seemed to carry the damp chill of morning dew.

His skin was white as ice, his features sharply defined, his head slightly bowed as a researcher pressed close to his side, showing him a project plan. Lu Yao’s brows furrowed lightly, his icy blue eyes glancing now and then toward the speaker. His thick lashes trembled like butterfly wings—soft yet edged like blades.

Li Yan thought: This is the perfect protagonist’s entrance.

A cold, sharp, breathtakingly intelligent beauty walked into the scene. What a pity the director had missed it.

When Lu Yao reached the top of the skybridge and noticed a stranger standing in his way, he lifted his gaze. Li Yan felt as if an icy edge had cut straight through him. Cold sweat soaked his back.

“Who’s that?” Lu Yao asked the colleague nearest him. “A new young intern?”

The researcher was startled that Lu Yao did not recognize the face, then realized it made sense. “That’s Li Yan, a celebrity. He came with the documentary crew. I heard they were looking for you.”

“Mm.” Lu Yao didn’t approach Li Yan further. He stopped at the bridge’s edge and accepted another schematic to review and revise. He had arrived later than usual that morning.

When Lu Yao had been leaving his apartment earlier, the snow leopard followed him, as always, to the elevator. Yet today his pace suddenly slowed. Lu Yao turned and saw his hind legs stumbling, limping badly.

Alarmed, Lu Yao immediately called Zhao Minghe, asking him to bring a veterinarian. The vet diagnosed a minor fracture in the snow leopard’s hind leg, most likely from the impact of a heavy object.

Lu Yao, knowing the cat’s agility, doubted he could have hurt himself in a simple fall. After some thought, he remembered fainting with a fever earlier. The snow leopard had rushed to catch him, and his metal cranial implant must have struck the big cat’s leg.

Yet the snow leopard had made no sound—had neither bitten him, the culprit, nor cried out in pain. If Lu Yao had not noticed, the fracture might have worsened into a full break from the leopard’s activity.

Zhao Minghe insisted on taking the snow leopard to a specialist hospital. Lu Yao, feeling both guilty and heartbroken, sent him off before finally heading for the research base.

No sooner had he arrived than researchers swarmed him with questions. It was then he ran into Li Yan and the film crew. Before this, Li Yan had only seen circulated photos of Lu Yao, recalling only a reputation as a cold and unapproachable omega beauty.

Attractive though he might be, such a strikingly aggressive appearance on an omega rarely inspired affection. But seeing him in person, Li Yan felt utterly overwhelmed, as if he had been shattered into nothing but foam. He was a perfect, natural-born light.

Li Yan had seen all kinds of beauties in the entertainment world—alphas, omegas, betas of every variety—but not one compared to the soul-shaking sight of Lu Yao in the flesh.

So when Lu Yao finished his discussion with the researchers and turned toward him, Li Yan could only stammer like a child, unable to produce a single coherent word, stripped of all the social grace expected of a galactic superstar.

 

 

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