Chapter 52: Hope You’re Okay
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
The pheromones lingering from an S-class alpha were overwhelmingly strong. Li Yan felt as if Zhou Yunchen were present even though he wasn’t, and after a few sentences, he could no longer withstand it and left Lu Yao’s side.
Several officers from the Azure Dragon Exploration Corps were also invited, chatting with Director Wang about encounters with space pirates during interstellar exploration—Wang was gathering material for future projects. The atmosphere at the gathering was lively, and the researchers, who had been working nonstop for months, finally had a chance to relax. Lu Yao did not stay long. Using the excuse of cooking dinner for the snow leopard, he left early and returned home.
By the time he reached the mountaintop villa, night had fallen. The AI had already fed Torque, so Lu Yao cooked meat for the snow leopard alone, brushed his fur, and quietly passed the time. Eventually, he brought both the large and small cats back to the bedroom on the second floor.
He lay on his back in bed, telling D to turn off the lights, wanting to sleep, but his mind remained fully awake, tossing him from side to side. Turning on the light, he realized there were still three hours before his normal bedtime. Since Li Yan had asked about Zhou Yunchen, Lu Yao’s mind had slowed, unable to concentrate on anything, whether work or personal matters.
The snow leopard lay at the foot of the bed, lifting his head to look at Lu Yao as the light came on, his long plush tail curling twice behind him. Lu Yao looked at the snow leopard and thought of Zhou Yunchen. He was not incapable of focusing—he simply did not want to confront this matter. Yet he had no choice.
The psychic core Zhou Yunchen had entrusted to him was still in his hands, awaiting analysis. The Distant Star mecha rested on the maintenance platform at the first R&D base, waiting for its owner. Their conversation had ended abruptly with the word “Go away,” unfinished. No matter what, they would meet again. But given their current tense silence, he did not know when that next meeting would be, nor in what state of mind. The unknown caused unease; constant avoidance could not eliminate it. Lu Yao curled up, burying his face in the blankets like an ostrich hiding its head in sand.
“Aw—?” The snow leopard, sensing Lu Yao’s discomfort and his unusually restless mood, called softly. Hearing it, Lu Yao lifted his head, exhaled, and opened his personal AI assistant’s display to start typing. It was a private email addressed to Zhou Yunchen.
“General Zhou, I am writing this email to talk about the incident between us a few days ago. That day, my mental state was unstable in the hospital, and I used words and a tone that were too harsh. Now that I am calm, I feel very sorry.”
After finishing, Lu Yao checked the wording, then quickly sent it to prevent second thoughts. Seeing the green dot confirming the email was sent, he leaned back into bed and took a deep breath.
Dr. Elaine had analyzed for Lu Yao that Zhou Yunchen was someone special to him. At the time, Lu Yao was noncommittal—even when Elaine listed reason after reason, he was not fully convinced. Now, he understood.
He had never written such a letter… a letter of apology. No one could have forced him to apologize—not even Chang Jian or Mo Feng, who sometimes got half-dazed by his words. The most they could do was mock or sigh. Zhou Yunchen had done it.
Lu Yao would have preferred Zhou Yunchen to have exploded with anger when told to “Go away,” but he did not. Zhao Minghe, who arrived later, did not seem upset at all, and for several days, Zhou Yunchen had neither appeared nor contacted Lu Yao. His patience left Lu Yao unsure how to react.
The snow leopard, lying at the foot of the bed, could only see the opaque display. He assumed Lu Yao was busy working seriously. When the notification sound from the implanted chip indicated a new email, the snow leopard’s ears pricked instantly. Curious about the email’s content, the snow leopard jumped down, spun a few times at the bedside, then slipped through the door crack to investigate.
Zhou Yunchen found the second-floor terrace. The night wind ruffled the snow leopard’s long fur. He opened the email via his chip and read: It was… an apology?
Lu Yao wrote that he was sorry for his behavior in the hospital and addressed the two questions Zhou Yunchen had wanted to ask. He acknowledged that Zhou Yunchen’s forced reassurance had been due to urgent circumstances, and he did not mind it—he even appreciated Zhou Yunchen’s help. He hoped to receive a reply.
“Aw—” The snow leopard let out a low howl to the night sky with the three-quarter moon, then turned and dashed back to the bedroom. The strong wind made his fur wave like the sea, tail curling in the air. He kicked open Lu Yao’s bedroom door and leaped onto the bed in two or three bounds. Lu Yao lay on the pillow. Before he could see the snow leopard properly, a large plush head had already burrowed into his embrace.
“Aw—” The snow leopard whimpered while rubbing against Lu Yao’s face and chest. Not satisfied with just rubbing, he rolled over, exposing his snow-white belly, the tufts of fur soft and warm.
Lu Yao wrapped the snow leopard in his arms, stroking the long fur at his neck. After sending the email, his tense heart began to calm. Amid the engine-like purring of the snow leopard, Lu Yao’s personal AI assistant chimed. He opened it to see a reply from Zhou Yunchen: “Lu Yao, you need not apologize. I hope you are well. I will be staying on New Blue Star for the foreseeable future. If you have time, we can meet again.”
Lu Yao’s mind fully relaxed. Hugging the large snow leopard, he drifted into sleep, half-dreaming.
The next morning, after arriving at the base, Lu Yao first went to the laboratory and copied the psychic core inspection data, then encrypted it and sent it to Zhou Yunchen. He could identify anomalies, but the core’s feedback was insufficient to explain them; he needed more detailed information about external factors. Zhou Yunchen arranged to meet him the next day for a detailed discussion, as some content was too sensitive to discuss online.
The strange and tense state between them was effectively over, easing a lot of Lu Yao’s psychological pressure. On his way to check the final revised version of the FL03 mecha, he ran into Mo Feng, who was clearly in high spirits. “Good news?” Lu Yao asked.
“It really is good news for us,” Mo Feng said cheerfully. “Last night, the final episodes of Stellar Craftsmen and Steel Titans aired. The last episode of Jaeger Industries showcased industry cooperation, filmed a lot of enterprise collaborations, and invited many celebrities. It drew a huge audience from the start.”
Lu Yao recalled the participation list from the Technical Intelligence Department. Indeed, Jaeger Industries had invited nearly all the major figures in the mecha commercial sector—a real gathering of stars. “Some viewers even complained that our opening interstellar flight scenes were boring.”
Well… aside from the ones obsessed with shipping, those who appreciated the silent yet intense montage created by Director Wang were thrilled; the ‘Zhou-Lu vs. Li-Lu’ faction battles were in full swing. Mo Feng, worried about Lu Yao’s reception of such gossip, omitted that part.
“Until the space test site appeared before everyone—an unexplored sector never revealed by the Federation. Besides mecha enthusiasts, even tech media, astronomers, physicists, engineers… Anyone involved in space work couldn’t resist seeing our documentary scenes. Subsequent space experiments and legion maneuvers were thrilling; I almost wanted to enlist myself.”
Lu Yao glanced at Mo Feng’s build, skeptical. Mo Feng immediately caught his friend’s gaze. “Just joking. If I joined the fleet, I’d probably only be in logistics. In any case, this publicity campaign was a win for us. I went to the military to ask for more funding—expected maybe fifty billion—but the generals, pleased with the documentary’s performance, allocated a hundred billion.”
Mo Feng patted Lu Yao’s shoulder. “This documentary really hit the mark. There will also be some broadcast revenue, not much, a few million—enough for another robotic arm.”
“Not bad,” Lu Yao replied.
At Jaeger Industries, Chairman Fraser was raging in his office, “I gave you all the funding, time, and contacts—is this the result?”
The Lu Yao documentary’s viewership had tripled, and the military had allocated additional R&D funds to the first base—funds that were originally for external procurement!
Jiang Wei, the company’s chief mecha designer, stood like a beaten dog, his shirt soaked by a splash of scorching coffee thrown in frustration. He tried to defend himself: “Lu Yao has the backing of the Federation’s Mecha Research Institute. He can communicate directly with the military and mobilize far more resources than I can. Look at the last documentary—space test sites, exploration forces, alien beast wars—do you think any of it was my doing?”
“Are you saying my allocation wasn’t enough?”
Jiang Wei gritted his teeth. “No, I just mean you made the correct decision.”
“Correct? You mean our stock growth slowed by 30% because of it?”
“Chairman, you don’t actually think Jaeger Industries can compete directly with the Federation’s Mecha Research Institute?”
Fraser coldly regarded the young chief but had to admit Jiang Wei was right. No mecha manufacturer could claim to challenge the Federation’s massive, precise, and bureaucratically tangled R&D institution.
“So, our focus is on Lu Yao. The institute headquarters is bogged down with paperwork and meetings, the second and third R&D bases are led by elderly, slow-minded leaders—more concerned with internal politics than mecha development. Only the first R&D base is our real competitor. Its reputation comes from Lu Yao; the rest are mediocre and cautious. As your initial decision indicated, defeating Lu Yao is sufficient.” Jiang Wei noted Fraser’s anger easing slightly.
“But in terms of technology, you can’t beat him; in public popularity, you’ve already lost,” Fraser pressed. “How do you intend to take down Lu Yao? By insulting him as a divorced omega?”
Jiang Wei replied: “Insults like that only rely on stereotypes to question his abilities. If Lu Yao proves his strength, such words collapse, sometimes even backfire. Effective attacks must come from undeniable facts.”
“For example?”
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