Chapter 44: Boop the Pink Nose

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

“The review committee has undergone a partial reshuffle,” Lu Yao closed the light screen. “I have a rough idea of what’s going on.”

“Chief Engineer Lu, the final plenary session of the review committee is in two days. Is there any way to salvage this?” The supervisor’s urgency was evident; he needed an answer.

“There is a way. I’ll handle it.” Lu Yao cast one last glance at Distant Star approaching the black hole’s event horizon. “Notify the Wildfield. I’m returning to New Blue Star now.”

Hearing this, the supervisor finally calmed slightly. He knew Lu Yao always followed through. If there was anyone capable of breaking this deadlock, it was him.

“I’ll go back with you,” Zhou Yunchen said. Lu Yao glanced at him. Distant Star’s testing was almost complete, and Zhou Yunchen had countless military matters to attend to—there was little point in waiting here. “Fine. See you on the Wildfield in an hour.”

Lu Yao packed lightly. With the remaining work all arranged, he boarded the Wildfield. Zhou Yunchen was already on the bridge with his aide. Seeing Lu Yao, he nodded slightly, and the captain was informed to set course immediately.

Zhou Yunchen stood by Lu Yao. The subtle lingering pheromones still hung in the air, but Lu Yao was fully absorbed in work, focused and composed, leaving Zhou Yunchen’s hidden thoughts restrained. “Do you need me to help with the review committee?”

Without looking up, Lu Yao edited information on the light screen. “The review committee votes are fully anonymous. Obviously, we can’t coerce these members; they must willingly vote in favor of the NTL funding proposal. What can you do, General Zhou? Rely on your connections?”

“The issue is this: from the committee members’ perspective, our positions are identical—they all support building mecha monstrosities and conquering the universe. The support we can gain is the same.”

Zhou Yunchen remained neutral, then added, “There’s never been an issue with support votes for the Mecha Research Institute before.”

“This time, it coincides with the staggered reshuffle,” Lu Yao replied. “Many pro-advancement members were replaced by conservative ones who aren’t interested in mecha. Mo Feng is negotiating with the heads of the second and third R&D bases to sway opinions; I also need to talk to people.”

Lu Yao contacted Chang Jian to act as a mediator, arranging a meeting between himself and the top member of the conservative faction.

Chang Jian: …

Chang Jian: With your relationship, why not just call his personal line?

Lu Yao: I don’t want to meet him as an individual. I want to speak seriously.

Chang Jian: Alright. When and where do you want to meet him?

Lu Yao: As soon as possible. The location is up to him.

Chang Jian: Mo Feng asks if he should accompany you.

Lu Yao: No, I want to go alone.

Chang Jian: So you still can’t completely detach personal feelings from business, huh?

Lu Yao: …

The Wildfield docked again at New Blue Star Starport. After bidding Zhou Yunchen farewell, Lu Yao hurried to the arranged meeting location.

When he arrived, the restaurant owner, Shang Sanjiu, personally guided him. “Mr. Lu, Mr. Chang informed us of your visit in advance. The guest is already in the lakeside private room.”

“Thank you.” Lu Yao followed swiftly. Seeing that he hadn’t changed out of his gray R&D uniform, Shang Sanjiu asked with concern, “Mr. Lu, is there an urgent matter?”

“Work-related,” Lu Yao replied tersely. Shang Sanjiu wisely didn’t ask further and opened the private room door for him. “Please, Mr. Lu, come in.”

Lu Yao pressed his tongue to his palate, exhaled, and stepped inside. The heavy, solid wooden door slowly closed behind him, isolating all hallway noise. The Sanjiu restaurant was simply and elegantly decorated. Outside the curved floor-to-ceiling windows stretched Ping Lake, reflecting the rosy golden light. White egrets descended and took flight, their reflections shimmering on the room’s pale walls and on the guest within, as if blending him into the tranquil environment. The only sound in the space was the flipping of light-screen menus.

As Lu Yao approached, the shadow in his peripheral vision lifted its head and, upon recognizing him, smiled. “Come, sit.”

Lu Yao pulled out a chair and sat across from him, face expressionless. He closed the light-screen menu; in that moment, all visible technology in the room vanished, leaving only the two humans facing each other.

The man stood, picked up Lu Yao’s wine glass, poured a flute of sparkling champagne, and pushed the dishes in front of him, the rising steam carrying aroma.

“Chang Jian told me you often meet here. These dishes are the ones the owner said you favor. Try them.”

“I can’t taste them,” Lu Yao replied immediately.

“You can use a scent stimulator.”

“I don’t want to.”

He furrowed his brow. “Xiao Yao, your sense of smell may be impaired, but your emotional function isn’t. Don’t be so indifferent to life.”

“Since you remember I still feel like a normal person, then you should understand: I enjoy my work and my life. When all of that is disrupted, I can’t be happy. Grandfather.”

Across the long table, the white-haired old man’s smile faded slightly. He no longer paid attention to the fine wine and dishes before him, and looked at Lu Yao. “I also have my work and my stance, Xiao Yao.”

“I always thought you’d retired to enjoy your later years.” Lu Yao hadn’t expected his grandfather, Lu Shiyan, to become a member of the review committee again, and to sway the high-wall faction to vote against him.

“I’m one hundred and fifty-two this year, just enough to serve one more term,” Lu Shiyan raised his wine glass to Lu Yao. “Isn’t that how the Lu family is? We shine at our posts until the very last moment.”

Lu Yao closed his eyes briefly. “You’re being willful, Grandfather. You’re an astrophysicist. Your work should be nurturing the next generation of scientists at the university, not arguing with people in the review committee. Your stance is just emotional.”

“I think I’m very rational.”

“You didn’t care about the Alien Beasts at all, until my parents died in their claws.”

When Lu Yao was a child, his parents went off to fight. He watched those giant mecha roaming the universe through a light screen and asked his grandfather, “Why do we send mecha to fight the Alien Beasts?”

“Because they attack humans,” Lu Shiyan replied.

“Why not block their path?” young Lu Yao asked.

Lu Shiyan smiled. “Some scientists wanted to destroy the alien voids, but humans are not yet capable of that difficult task. The remaining option is interstellar fleet warfare and building high walls to block the beasts.”

“Will the beasts stop?”

“I don’t know,” Lu Shiyan admitted. “I’m not a Void Civilization scholar; I cannot understand the beasts’ thoughts. No human can. Maybe they’ll launch an attack tomorrow that sweeps across the galaxy, or maybe they’ll all retreat the day after and vanish completely. We cannot fathom their minds.”

Lu Shiyan didn’t know what the beasts would do, and had not interfered in the political struggle between the pro-advancement and high-wall factions—until his daughter and son-in-law both died on the galactic front.

He began to feel an inescapable fear. If the beasts never stopped attacking, the human Federation would always live in the shadow of war, and countless lives would be lost.

Better to build a cosmic wall and block the beasts, sacrificing some territory in space, than to attack and face certain death. Humanity would still have the deeper stars to explore and develop, and no one would have to mourn lost loved ones helplessly.

Lu Shiyan looked at Lu Yao. Facing the loss of relatives himself, he knew his grandson had taken a completely different path. He understood that beneath Xiao Yao’s calm, rational exterior lay a sharp, destructive consciousness.

“I insist on my view. I speak here not only for myself but for the other high-wall members,” Lu Shiyan said. The convert who changes his course mid-path is often more resolute than anyone else. Lu Yao took a sip of wine. The moment to execute his strategy had arrived.

“But cutting the Mecha Research Institute’s budget won’t advance your wall plan. Mecha technology is mature, but the space defense wall is still theoretical. Until you have a feasible plan, the funding won’t go toward wall research.”

“We need to express our stance.”

“I still want to discuss the NTL mecha concept draft,” Lu Yao said.

“The most exquisite mecha design won’t convince me, Xiao Yao. Our stances were different from the start.”

“Mecha is just a… cover,” Lu Yao said. “I want to develop new energy.”

Lu Shiyan’s gaze grew serious. “You hadn’t mentioned that.”

“The high-wall faction’s opposition is troublesome enough. I don’t want to provoke the members siding with energy corporations. The Mecha Research Institute and they should have been allies.”

“What kind of new energy? Cleaner?”

“More efficient. Besides mecha, energy for light weapons and electromagnetic weapons also needs to be more efficient,” Lu Yao explained. “I think it will also be useful for the future space defense wall.”

“You’re being so considerate?”

“This is my bargaining chip to persuade you. As for whether the wall will actually be built… I have reservations about humanity’s current technology.”

“Is this how you persuade people?” Lu Shiyan looked at his grandson’s beautifully cold, almost aggravating face. “I heard you’ve been collaborating with General Li’s son to shoot a documentary. I’ve seen some of his films. I imagine putting you in those war movies—you’d be the evil scientist behind the scenes.”

Lu Yao corrected him. “The evil scientist raising nine black cats in the lab.”

The joke lightened the mood. Lu Shiyan’s stance softened. “I’ll go back and talk to them about NTL,” he said. “By the way, how are you and Zhou Yunchen lately? I thought you wouldn’t meet him after your divorce.”

Although Lu Shiyan said Lu Yao’s emotional function was intact, he also knew that detachment was part of his grandson’s nature. If Lu Yao stayed single his whole life, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“For work,” Lu Yao said, pausing briefly as his fingers touched the chopsticks on the table. “And… he gave me a cat.”

When Lu Yao returned home, night had already fallen. The tension in his nerves eased the moment he stepped through the door, and exhaustion washed over his mind. He tidied up a little and collapsed onto his big bed. Torque and the snow leopard came running, front paws followed by back paws. Torque leapt onto the bed first, rolling and nuzzling at his hands. 

Lu Yao thought it was because he had been gone for a while, that separation anxiety had made Torque unusually clingy. But seeing the way Torque wriggled and writhed with excitement, something seemed off. Of course—his pheromones… were like catnip. Lu Yao remembered what Zhou Yunchen had said and fell into thought.

The snow leopard crouched at the edge of the bed. Its gaze burned just as brightly, but it controlled its movements, unlike Torque, who had leapt straight onto him. Lu Yao looked into its pale gray eyes and, on impulse, touched the gland at the back of his neck. Then he reached out a finger toward the snow leopard’s pink, heart-shaped nose. Warm breath puffed onto his fingertip.

Author’s note:

Someone asked when they would get together… Well, anyway, before the estrus period ends, just let the two of them snuggle a bit.

 

 

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