LSDWTWHA chapter 31

Chapter 30

Su Su paused in a spot among the stars. He didn’t disconnect from the mental link, but the spaceship remained still in the air, seemingly in a daze.

In front of him was the combat zone marked on the map, the frontline where humans confronted the insect race.

If he moved forward a little over a hundred star distances, he would reach a supply station at the outermost layer of human territory, and beyond that lay the realm of the insect race.

“Why have you stopped?” Qi Hanyi noticed that the image in his field of vision had ceased to change.

“Is the White Zephyr anchored around here in reality?” Su Su asked, his tone carrying a tension and excitement that hadn’t been present before, as if he were preparing to meet a long-anticipated online friend.

“Probably. Do you really like the White Zephyr?” Qi Hanyi gazed at the seat ahead, his expression obscured by the interplay of light and shadow, making it hard to see clearly.

For reasons related to confidentiality, the game developers hadn’t disclosed the defensive locations of the starships in reality, and even the map of the combat zone had been modified to some extent.

However, Su Su’s deductions were quite accurate; the corresponding coordinates of the White Zephyr in reality were indeed in this nearby area. Because the map had been altered, even Qi Hanyi couldn’t specify the exact location.

“Yeah, I really like it.” Su Su admitted candidly.

Many players in the game admired the White Zephyr; after all, it was humanity’s strongest defense against the insects and a symbol of interstellar stability.

During the years that Qi Hanyi had served as the commander of the White Zephyr, it had almost continuously achieved victory in battles.

Youthful passions often gravitate toward strength, and many players who loved piloting starships began their journey by learning about the story of the White Zephyr.

They would often attempt to analyze the location of the White Zephyr in the game and occasionally roam nearby. Players who liked the White Zephyr referred to such actions as pilgrimage, and wherever the White Zephyr was located became a sacred site in their hearts.

However, Su Su wasn’t feeling such pious sentiments; he came here more like visiting a long-lost, non-existent old friend.

He said to Qi Hanyi, “Earlier during dinner, I was strolling in the yard. Since the moon isn’t visible tonight, the White Zephyr stands out as the brightest entity in the sky. It’s beautiful; the stars seem dim in comparison.”

“I really wish to see the real White Zephyr one day, but I probably won’t have that opportunity, so I can only visit its location in the game.”

Qi Hanyi suddenly remembered that the little shark at home had also said that the White Zephyr resembled a star.

He seemed to like the White Zephyr too. As a mermaid hybrid, he could only briefly transform into human form by taking medication, and he probably wouldn’t have a chance to board a starship in his lifetime. Was that why he wanted to enter the “Star Wars” game, wanting to see his “star”?

This wasn’t an overly unreasonable request; using his influence to secure game login permission for him wasn’t difficult. Yet at that time, he had very bluntly refused the request, out of some misplaced anger.

Recalling Su Su’s shocked and disappointed expression then, Qi Hanyi felt a flicker of regret inside him.

The little shark had always complied obediently with his various arrangements, even when poisoned without a complaint. He clearly wanted to treat him better; that was his first earnest request, yet he had turned him down with the cruelest words and left him alone at home.

“If you can win first place in the starship piloting competition this time, you might just be able to board the White Zephyr,” Qi Hanyi offered, a rare attempt at comfort. Perhaps it was just a way of alleviating some of his guilt.

The young man in front of him always bore a resemblance to Su Su, and with that shark plush shell on his head, it made him think of the shark at home.

But Qi Hanyi’s words didn’t have the intended effect; after hearing them, Su Su just shook his head. “Even if I could get first place, I wouldn’t be qualified to go to space, let alone board the White Zephyr.”

Su Su participated in the competition purely for fun and hadn’t considered whether he could win first place. His identity as a mermaid couldn’t be exposed, and even humans faced restrictions playing games with mermaids, let alone allowing a true starship to approach one.

The butler had also mentioned that while there had been proposals for mermaids to pilot starships, they had all ended in failure.

Thus, even if he won, it would be meaningless, and it might even stir up trouble.

Qi Hanyi was unaware of Su Su’s concerns and thought he was merely worried that his identity would not be accepted by the Empire because of his association with Freedom Island.

“Identity isn’t the issue,” Qi Hanyi said. “As long as you possess solid skills and a desire to protect this planet, you have the qualifications to pilot a starship.”

This sounded too familiar, prompting Su Su to blurt out, “What if it’s a mermaid?”

After asking, he realized the impropriety of his question. Would this provoke suspicion?

Su Su quickly added, “I just said it casually…”

Qi Hanyi fell silent. He didn’t suspect the player in front of him; indeed, many people on Freedom Island sympathized with mermaids, and considering the individual’s mermaid mother, it was understandable for him to ask.

Qi Hanyi’s attention was elsewhere.

He recalled his deceased father. The words he had just uttered were instilled in him since childhood.

If his father faced this question, he would have undoubtedly given an affirmative answer without hesitation.

But his father was dead, killed in a painful manner by the mermaid he loved the most. The brutal scene was a nightmare he wouldn’t dare touch even in dreams.

Before his father passed away, he gazed at him with hollow eye sockets and said with lips that could not form words: “Hanyi, maintain your thoughts; do not let hatred cloud your reason. Do not live like her… it is very hard.”

He couldn’t do it; after all these years, he still could not avoid hatred.

He exerted great effort to restrain himself, confining himself within the cage of rules, suppressing all emotions to live like a machine designed solely for work, merely to prevent himself from going insane and doing irretrievable things.

No one knew how many times he had aimed the cannons at the coordinates of the mermaid kingdom when piloting the White Zephyr. No one knew what kind of crazy hatred filled his eyes when he woke up in the dead of night.

Without waiting for a response, Su Su assumed that the other party didn’t agree.

He thought that maybe he had listened to the old butler, and was too excited, unable to contain himself, becoming overly joyful. Though Qi Hanyi’s father may feel this way, he must be in the minority. In the eyes of most people, mermaids were seen as breeding tools, pets, or dangerous creatures that needed to be guarded against.

Just as Su Su thought he wouldn’t receive an answer, he heard Qi Hanyi speak in a low but firm tone: “If it truly aims to protect this planet, then even a mermaid has the right to pilot a starship.”

It was a simple answer. Qi Hanyi knew that if he set aside his hatred, he had always agreed with his father’s viewpoint. Particularly after becoming a starship commander, he understood how precious it was to have a pilot with mental force talent; the value of mermaids extended far beyond being mere breeding tools.

If mermaids and humans did not need to view each other with hostility, if mermaids participated in the selection of starship pilots, the quality of the imperial starship crew would significantly increase, leading to reduced casualties when combating the insect race.

His father was always right; he knew this very well.

The wrongdoers were those folks who used hatred as an excuse to harm the innocent. Not just mermaids, but humans too.

“Eh?” Su Su exclaimed in surprise, freeing himself from his seat’s restraints and poking his head out. The eyes of the glass-like toy reflected the light. “Do you really think so?”

Does he really think so? Qi Hanyi was uncertain. Perhaps rationally, he believed he should think this way, but emotionally he was doing the exact opposite.

He was harming innocent beings with his hatred, just like those people he should despise.

The little shark that he had inadvertently dragged into trouble, perhaps he should go back and apologize sincerely.

Qi Hanyi had already made plans to return to his residence the following day.

But he didn’t expect that on the next day, he would be carried back home in a medical pod.

It happened suddenly while he was out for his morning jog; the mental force collapse had struck violently without warning.

The intense pain consumed his consciousness, plunging him into darkness.

After breakfast, Su Su logged into the game as usual.

He opened his friend list, but the name of his friend, “Rebellious & Wandering Soul,” was greyed out.

The other party was offline. This was normal, after all, humans needed to work, and Yan Bai was quite busy too, only sometimes logging on briefly before quickly going offline, as though not truly entering the game, just handling work matters.

Not having a playmate wasn’t an issue; Su Su was capable of amusing himself. Simply piloting a starship no longer satisfied him; today’s plan was to undertake missions and bump into some low-level insects in the combat zone.

While Su Su was queuing in the mission hall, he suddenly heard footsteps approaching from a distance. He turned around, noticing that there weren’t many players queued in the mission hall, and no one was walking toward him from the direction of the sound.

Su Su froze for two seconds, suddenly realizing that this wasn’t the sound of footsteps from the game, but from reality. He exited the game at lightning speed.

When he opened his eyes, a group of people had already approached, led by an imposing elder. Su Su recognized him; Qi Hanyi called him “the family head.”

Qi Xingli was currently scrutinizing the mermaid before him.

He lay on a single bed, the blanket pulled up to his chin, as though he were asleep.

It was peculiar; even though there was a pool right beside him, he was sleeping under a blanket like a human. When Su Su approached, he seemed startled awake by the footsteps, staring blankly at him. He then clutched the blanket, covering his shoulders, sitting up with a confused expression.

This was understandable; after all, she was a girl, a delicate and sensitive mermaid, likely terrified by the sudden intrusion of a strange man into her room.

However, Qi Xingli had little compassion, as he calmly commanded, “You have three minutes. Get dressed and come out.”

With that, he left Su Su’s room, shutting the door behind him.

Su Su hugged the blanket, letting out a sigh of relief; he indeed felt quite scared, not because of the elder, but because he feared someone would discover that he had just been playing the game secretly.

He wasn’t aware of Qi Xingli’s intentions; the reason he was sleeping on the bed was that he still retained a mostly human body and couldn’t breathe like a mermaid with gills. If he slept in water, he would suffocate.

As for covering his body with the blanket, it was because after the medication wore off, scales had started appearing on his body. Moreover, since he was male, even when transforming into human form, he remained a man. If others saw his body, they would immediately notice the problem.

It was already autumn; Su Su grabbed long sleeves, long pants, and shoes that would cover his body. Looking at the scales on his hands, he also took out a pair of leather gloves to wear before finally exiting the room.

Qi Xingli was no longer in the hallway; waiting for him was Qi Hanyi’s butler, Zhang Lu.

“Come with me.” Zhang Lu led Su Su upstairs while explaining the current situation: “You don’t need to be nervous. The person you just spoke to is the head of the Qi family, and he is also the young master’s grandfather.”

“I know. I saw him at the last banquet.” Su Su had a good memory; he had a slight impression of anyone he had met once.

The butler nodded and continued, “This morning, the young master fainted at the military headquarters due to mental force collapse syndrome.”

“Mental force collapse syndrome?” Su Su repeated this unfamiliar term, trying to understand. “Is Qi Hanyi sick?”

“You could say that, but it’s not a common illness. It’s a condition that occurs only in individuals with very high levels of mental force who have also overused it.”

“Hmm.” Su Su nodded. He was aware of mental force. Recently he learned that humans used mental force to pilot starships, so Qi Hanyi must have fallen ill due to that, right?

“Is it treatable?”

“It can be treated.” The butler looked earnestly at Su Su. “But only you can treat him.”

“Me?” Su Su was taken aback; he had no knowledge of how to treat illnesses.

The butler’s footsteps stopped at the door to the study on the third floor. They had arrived at their destination, and their conversation came to a halt.

“The family head is in the study and wishes to talk with you.”

Su Su pushed the door open, and the stern elder he had seen sat behind the desk, with several subordinates standing respectfully to one side.

“Hello.” Su Su greeted politely.

Qi Xingli carefully assessed the mermaid in front of him. She was beautiful, resembling the mermaid of years past who had killed his son. However, the aura was different; that mermaid’s appearance was soft and cold, as if she were distant from everyone.

In contrast, the mermaid before him looked like an enchanting pixie, yet with an innocent expression that suggested she was an unfamiliar inhabitant of the human world, like a little creature that had wandered in.

No wonder Qi Hanyi treated him differently; such an appearance was certainly disarming, and his simple nature would likely cause many to lower their guard.

“Qi Hanyi is unwell and needs you to sing to help alleviate his condition,” Qi Xingli said, bringing a pipe to his mouth while a subordinate came forward to light it for him. The smoke diffused, obscuring the line of sight between them, filled with a faint herbal aroma that spread dominatingly in the room.

“From today onward, you will move into his room and sing for him every day.”

Sharks are creatures with keen senses of smell, and even in human form, this trait seems to have been retained. The smoke made Su Su somewhat uncomfortable, and he frowned.

Can singing really cure his illness? Su Su pondered, suddenly recalling that mermaids could seemingly use their singing to release their mental force, achieving some special effects.

He also possessed mental force and could communicate with it. Singing and speaking seemed to be somewhat similar, so he ought to be able to help cure him, right?

“I’ll give it a try.”

“It’s not just a trial; you must succeed. If you can cure him, consider it a favor owed to you. If you need anything, I can help you within my abilities,” Qi Xingli added, tapping the pipe with his forefinger.

There’s even this kind of benefit?

Su Su thought that this family head seemed even more formidable than Qi Hanyi. If he cured Qi Hanyi, could he perhaps have him assist in granting permission for him to pilot a real starship?

Before Su Su’s fantasy could fully form, he heard Qi Xingli coldly add the latter part of his statement: “But if you fail, not only will I take your life, but your entire mermaid kin will have to accompany you to their graves.”