Yun Xunlan held an optimistic attitude towards this situation.

Just when he didn’t really want to see Mu Xingyu, Yun Xunlan used Dr. Edmond’s medical advice as an excuse and took the opportunity to shut himself in his room for two days. During these two days, he didn’t see anyone, including Yu Chen—this was a last resort.

Yun Xunlan was afraid that if he met Yu Chen, not only would he be unable to catch up on lessons and sleep together, but Mu Xingyu might also insist on seeing him. So, he simply cut off the possibility from the root.

The attendants, like Ni Chun, who had served Yun Xunlan for many years, were already used to the young man’s tendency to shut himself away and didn’t find it strange anymore. However, the newly arrived guards, Fu Yanxi, Gui Yan, Lu You, and the Song brothers, couldn’t help but feel worried.

Especially on Monday, when they saw the second prince Mu Xingyu, who was about to return to the battlefield after his sensitive period ended, come to bid farewell to Yun Xunlan, Yun Xunlan didn’t even open the door. He stayed in his bedroom and only exchanged a few polite words through the communication device with Mu Xingyu standing outside, which made them even more anxious.

So during dinner, Song Tingqiao couldn’t help but bring it up with his brother Song Tingyan: “Brother, they say he’s resting in bed, but the third prince is ‘resting’ to the point of not wanting to see anyone at all… Is that normal?”

“I don’t know.” Song Tingyan turned his gaze to the black-haired alpha with wolf-like eyes behind him and asked, “Yu Chen, you were there when the third prince summoned Dr. Edmond, right? Is the third prince really okay?”

Yu Chen didn’t even lift his eyelids, but his hand holding the chopsticks paused slightly as he poked at the meat: “Dr. Edmond said there’s nothing wrong.”

“Right, don’t worry, the third prince should be fine.”

The usually quiet Lu You joined their conversation: “I heard the servants say that the third prince seems to do this often. When he doesn’t want to see anyone, even the crown prince can’t get him to open the door.”

Song Tingqiao continued to ask, “Did the servants say why the third prince is like this?”

Lu You shook his head: “They didn’t say, they’re not sure of the reason either.”

“Strange… But as long as the third prince is okay, that’s good.” Gui Yan murmured, then elbowed Fu Yanxi beside him, “Hey, Xi Ge, are you about to enter your sensitive period? Why aren’t you concerned about the third prince?”

Fu Yanxi had been focused on eating throughout dinner and hadn’t said a word about ‘protecting’ the third prince, which was very unlike him.

“I’m not in my sensitive period.” Fu Yanxi explained, “I’ve always been concerned about the third prince.”

Gui Yan questioned him: “You care without saying a word? Just pretending to care?”

“Even if I don’t say it, I’m definitely concerned in my heart.” Fu Yanxi refused to let anyone doubt his loyalty to Yun Xunlan, raising his chin with an arrogant expression, “I’ve been caring about the third prince since I was fifteen, how about you?”

Gui Yan couldn’t compete with Fu Yanxi on this point and stumbled over his words: “I, I only started at seventeen…”

“You decided to be loyal to the third prince for a lifetime at such a young age?”

Ji Bai, who overheard the conversation between Fu Yanxi and Gui Yan, immediately rushed over with his bowl, curious to inquire.

But his movements were a bit too big, and as he stood up to change positions, he accidentally knocked over Yu Chen’s coffee cup, spilling the brown liquid all over the table.

“Ji Bai.” The blue-eyed alpha raised an eyebrow, putting down his chopsticks and calling out Ji Bai’s name in a low, cold voice that sounded like a warning before scolding, “You spilled my coffee.”

Ji Bai didn’t want to experience the full force of Yu Chen’s sharp tongue, so he quickly apologized: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll pour you another cup.”

Yu Chen, holding his plate, moved to a different seat: “No need, just be careful next time.”

Ji Bai was surprised by how easygoing Yu Chen was: “Okay, Yu Ge, I’ll definitely be more careful next time, thank you!”

Gui Yan, however, tilted his head in confusion: “Yu Chen, why do you sound like you’re cursing with an accent now?”

Yu Chen: “Huh?”

He frowned: “When did I curse?”

Yu Chen felt he had been quite well-mannered lately, only cursing at that wild internet pervert called “Fish Raising Newbie,” so how could Gui Yan slander him like that?

Gui Yan pointed at Ji Bai and explained: “Didn’t you just curse at him?”

Yu Chen was speechless: “I didn’t curse at him; I was just calling his name.”

Fu Yanxi was also puzzled: “Isn’t his name ‘Ji Bo’?”

Ji Bai raised his hand: “Don’t worry about that, just call me ‘Old Eight.’ Please don’t call me by my full name, it’s better if you don’t even use my surname.”

Gui Yan, however, was relentless and insisted on digging deeper: “But Old Eight, is the ‘Bai’ in your name pronounced ‘bǎi’ or ‘bó’?”

Ji Bai replied: “It’s pronounced ‘Old Eight.’”

Gui Yan: “…”

“Old Eight, you’ve got it tough.” Fu Yanxi patted Ji Bai on the shoulder, comforting him, “But you don’t need to worry too much. Your name either sounds very masculine or very delicious; no matter how you call it, it’s a good name.”

Ji Bai: “…Thank you, I feel much better now.”

Fu Yanxi waved his hand: “No need to thank me. We’re all colleagues, the most loyal guards of the third prince, so we should support each other. If you really want to thank me, just call me ‘Ge’ a few more times.”

“Okay, Xi Ge.” Ji Bai readily complied, “Then can you tell me how you decided to be loyal to the third prince for a lifetime at such a young age?”

Fu Yanxi didn’t refuse. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, his eyes sparkled with nostalgia: “Because when I was fifteen… I once met the prince.”

To this day, Fu Yanxi still clearly remembers every frame of the moment he met the third prince twelve years ago at the end of May in the Galactic Empire’s Military Medical Research Institute.

That morning, Fu Yanxi had just woken up when he received a call from his father, General Fu Yingxuan’s aide.

The aide told him that Fu Yingxuan had returned to the Imperial Capital Star, but due to severe injuries, he had to stay in the hospital for a month. If Fu Yanxi wanted to see his father, he had to go to the Military Medical Research Institute.

Did Fu Yanxi want to see Fu Yingxuan?

Before receiving that call, Fu Yanxi thought he didn’t want to, even though it had been two whole years since he last saw Fu Yingxuan in person.

Because his father—General Fu, who had made great contributions to the Galactic Empire and was renowned among the people—was a hero in the hearts of countless citizens, but he was not a good husband or father.

However, after hanging up the phone, Fu Yanxi still went to the Military Medical Research Institute.

As a result, they had a fierce argument in the hospital.

The cause of the conflict was that Fu Yanxi asked Fu Yingxuan how long he could stay on the Imperial Capital Star.

“I’ll only stay for this month in the hospital.” Fu Yingxuan replied, “Once I’m healed, I’ll return to the battlefield immediately.”

Fu Yanxi asked again: “You’re leaving so soon? Don’t you still have annual leave left?”

Fu Yingxuan said: “I won’t take it; the battlefield needs me.”

After hearing this, Fu Yanxi wanted to ask one more question: What about your family? Don’t they need you?

But in the end, he didn’t ask; it seemed unnecessary.

If Fu Yingxuan knew that his family needed him and could balance work and family, his mother wouldn’t have divorced him, and he wouldn’t have gone from being a child who seemed to have no father to becoming an “orphan” who had lost his mother as well.

Fu Yanxi never thought Fu Yingxuan did anything wrong.

—Since ancient times, loyalty and filial piety have been difficult to achieve simultaneously.

Fu Yanxi understood this principle.

But after not seeing each other for two years, when they finally met again, Fu Yingxuan didn’t ask or care about how he had been during those two years, whether anyone bullied him at school, or if he had encountered any unspeakable sadness. Even though he was so sick that he could hardly speak coherently, all he could say were the same old admonitions: “When I’m not around, don’t neglect your physical training. I heard from your trainer that your recent… cough cough… condition is very poor. The Anluos Military Academy has high physical requirements for alpha students. If you can’t pass the physical exam, I’ll have to find someone to help you…”

As the son of an imperial general, Fu Yanxi had received a more profound moral education than ordinary people since childhood. He had always intended to inherit his father’s legacy and become a soldier, viewing sweating and bleeding on the battlefield until death as the most glorious ideal.

However, at that moment, looking at his cold and serious father on the hospital bed, he thought of his pale and thin mother who had been waiting by the window for years, of his grandparents who had passed away before they could see him one last time, and of his now empty and desolate home—if it could still be called a “home.”

A sense of powerless anger and grievance surged in Fu Yanxi’s heart, stinging his eyes.

So, for the first time in his life, Fu Yanxi, who had never defied his father, rebelled: “Dad, you don’t need to find someone to help me. If I can’t pass the physical exam, then I just won’t go to Anluos Military Academy!”

Fu Yingxuan questioned him: “You are my son. If you don’t go to Anluos Military Academy, where will you go?”

“Just because I’m your son, do I have to join the military and go to the battlefield like you?” Fu Yanxi retorted, “Can’t I choose to do something else that I can or want to do?”

“Is that the reason your physical training results have declined? You don’t want to join the military? Then tell me, what do you want to do?”

Fu Yingxuan’s tone was still relatively calm at first, but as he spoke, he suddenly raised his voice: “You’ve enjoyed an education and resources that are better than most people in this world. You should contribute, sacrifice, and fight to protect your country! I never expected you to achieve great things, but I don’t want you to be a coward! If you had said earlier that you didn’t want to join the military, I would never have arranged for a trainer to waste time on you, allowing you to do whatever you truly want!”

“Hope, hope!”

Fu Yanxi also raised his voice, shouting: “Mom hopes you can come back to see her occasionally. Have you done that? She suffers from the pain of losing her permanent mark, which is no less than you lying here! Grandpa and Grandma supported your career and never asked you to come home, but before they passed away, they held my hand tightly and said, ‘It’s good that you’re back,’ and have you really come home? Do you know how much they wished to see you one last time?”

“…Are we all emotionless robots?”

“What you can’t do… why should I do what you want me to do?!”

“If I could, I would rather not have been born into the Fu family. If you want to be a great imperial general and have a son who isn’t a coward, then don’t marry my mother and don’t give birth to me, who can also feel fear and sadness!”

After venting all his grievances and pain, Fu Yanxi couldn’t see and didn’t want to see Fu Yingxuan’s expression anymore, so he turned and rushed out of the hospital room.

He ran down the corridor, and when he stumbled into a secluded corner of the garden at the Military Medical Research Institute, he finally stopped, sitting on a bench and wiping his eyes.

“Brother, are you crying?”

Fu Yanxi thought he was the only one there, but just as he was halfway through wiping his tears, he suddenly heard a child calling him “brother.”

Fu Yanxi looked up and scanned his surroundings, then spotted the child peeking out from behind a cluster of evening primrose.

The child had silver hair and pale skin, so white it was almost blinding, blending into the light, with only a pair of black sunglasses perched on his nose, the only vivid color on him.

And he didn’t hear Fu Yanxi’s response or continue to ask, clumsily feeling for his face with his hands, requesting help: “Brother, can you help me see if these evening primroses have bloomed? I just had surgery on my eyes.”

…He can’t see? No wonder he’s wearing such thick sunglasses, Fu Yanxi thought.

Such a small favor that didn’t even count as a burden, Fu Yanxi naturally wouldn’t refuse. He figured since the child couldn’t see anything, he might as well not wipe his tears and said with a face full of distress, “There are buds, but they haven’t bloomed yet. You’ll have to wait until evening.”

Evening primroses generally start to bloom in the evening, which is why they are also called “waiting for the night flowers.”

“Thank you.” The silver-haired child thanked him, “The surgery was very painful, and I cried for a long time. Every day I thought that once I could see, I would definitely come to see these flowers. Did you cry because you were in pain from surgery too?”

“…No, I didn’t have surgery.”

As Fu Yanxi answered the silver-haired child, he lowered his head to look at his own hands—these hands weren’t beautiful, rough and dry, with thick calluses embedded in the palms, the marks of years of training, and armor to protect his palms from being worn down. However, for some reason, when he wiped his tears, he felt an unbearable pain in his palms.

He blankly told the silver-haired child the reason: “I had a fight with my dad…”

“Then you can sit here for a while longer, waiting for these evening primroses to bloom.” The silver-haired child comforted him, “They’re very beautiful. Maybe if you see them, your mood will get better.”

Perhaps when a person is vulnerable, they can easily be touched by a word of concern, especially when that word comes from the mouth of a young child they just met, while their own father never says such things.

In the past, Fu Yanxi wanted to become a general of the empire, a hero for the people.

But now, Fu Yanxi was afraid of becoming the next Fu Yingxuan.

He didn’t understand, was Fu Yingxuan like this in the past?

Then why, in the eyes of his grandparents, was he once a son they were proud of? Why, in his mother’s eyes, was he also a husband she was proud of? Did the passage of time change Fu Yingxuan? Or did the cruelty of the battlefield change Fu Yingxuan?

If the reason was the latter, then what kind of person would he become if he went to that cruel battlefield? If he didn’t go, what kind of person would he become?

The still-growing teenager couldn’t find the answer, and his mental state and physical training results continued to decline day by day amidst these confused thoughts.

“My dream was to become a soldier, to fight for the people and the empire. But now… I find that I seem unable to do it.”

Fu Yanxi slowly raised his head, gazing at the evening primrose flowers waiting for the sunset, murmuring: “If I can feel happy today by looking at the flowers, then what about tomorrow?”

Evening primroses bloom unwaveringly towards the direction of the silver moon.

But he couldn’t see where his tomorrow, his future, lay.

“I don’t know what my tomorrow will be like, but I know why the evening primrose is the national flower of the empire.” The silver-haired child then asked him, “Brother, do you know?”

Fu Yanxi certainly knew. He said: “Because it symbolizes an indomitable spirit and a heart of freedom.”

This flower often grows beside open, barren slopes, strong by nature, resistant to cold, drought, and poor soil, able to survive almost anywhere, incredibly resilient, which is why it is hailed as the national flower of the Galactic Empire.

The silver-haired child chuckled softly: “Yes, as long as it can take root and bloom, it is a great life—no matter where this flower blooms.”

“People are the same.”

“The brilliance of the Galactic Empire doesn’t only shine on the battlefield; just like the silver halo at the edge of the galaxy, there are still stars that exist.”

The silver-haired child turned his head, facing Fu Yanxi directly, speaking plainly yet firmly: “Brother, I believe you are the same—no matter where you ultimately choose to go.”

Fu Yanxi hadn’t yet been surprised that such a small child could say such a long string of profound words when the silver-haired child’s last unreserved compliment made his ears slightly flush, and he stammered, “I, can I really?”

He lowered his head again, looking at his calloused hands.

But this time, Fu Yanxi saw the years of hard work he had put in for his dreams.

He looked back at the evening primrose flowers in front of him, took a deep breath, and closed his fingers: “I don’t know if I can do it… but I will try.”

The silver-haired child, however, said with certainty: “Your calluses are thicker than my second brother’s. He’s about the same age as you. You work so hard, with your determination, you can definitely do it.”

“Thank you.”

Fu Yanxi’s ears turned red, and he instinctively thanked him, then realized something seemed off, looking up at the silver-haired child’s sunglasses in confusion: “Wait, didn’t you say you… can’t see?”

“I never said that.” The silver-haired child denied it, “I just had surgery on my eyes and can’t see bright light, so I’m wearing sunglasses.”

Fu Yanxi: “…”

The silver-haired child waved at him: “I think I heard the head nurse calling my name. I have to go, goodbye.”

Fu Yanxi also waved at him: “Goodbye.”

“By the way, can you tell me your name…”

But that white figure turned around and quickly disappeared around the corner of the path in just a few seconds, leaving Fu Yanxi with no time to ask for a name. He could only sit back on the bench, waiting for the evening primroses to bloom.

Finally, when the first rays of sunset broke through the clouds in the evening, the evening primroses unfolded their golden petals—under the descending light of night, they rose like a cluster of stars.

Fu Yanxi sat in that corner for several hours until Fu Yingxuan’s aide came to find him before he got up to leave.

The next day, he returned to the Military Medical Research Institute but didn’t go to visit Fu Yingxuan. Instead, he went to the corner of the garden filled with evening primroses, hoping to run into the silver-haired child he had seen yesterday.

Unfortunately, this time, Fu Yanxi’s luck didn’t seem to be very good.

He couldn’t find the child, so he went to ask the nurses—

“A silver-haired child?”

“That’s the third prince.”

Fu Yanxi’s eyes widened in surprise: “The third prince?!”

He felt a bit disappointed: “Then… will I be able to see him again?”

The nurse looked troubled and helpless: “The third prince rarely leaves his hospital room. Even the emperor, empress, and crown prince might not be able to see him, and besides…”

—The third prince isn’t someone you can just see whenever you want.

The nurse wouldn’t say this last part outright, but who wouldn’t understand the reasoning behind it?

In the end, Fu Yanxi went to see the patch of evening primroses one more time.

Amidst the waves of floral fragrance, Fu Yanxi looked up at the brilliant stars in the sky, his voice soft yet firm: “I can definitely do it.”

He wanted to get into Anluos Military Academy, to join the military, to protect his country and people; it was his personal dream and pursuit. Along the way, he might feel lost and hesitant, but he would never give up, even if he didn’t receive any concern or attention from anyone on this path. He would walk forward unwaveringly.

“The prince is like the North Star guiding me out of confusion, leading me towards the light and glory.” Fu Yanxi said, “I’m very grateful to him and have always hoped to do something for him, so when I heard the royal family was reorganizing the guard, I immediately signed up.”

“So you and the third prince met when you were young, Xi Ge.” Ji Bai looked at Fu Yanxi with a mix of envy and jealousy, “The third prince even calls you ‘brother.’”

Song Tingqiao, the younger Song brother, bluntly admitted: “I’m so jealous, I can’t even swallow my food.”

“Aren’t you all jealous?” He looked around at the other guards still eating in the cafeteria, “How can you still eat?”

Fu Yanxi comforted him: “There’s no need to be jealous. We all get to see the third prince often now.”

Lu You added sharply: “Song Tingqiao is jealous that the third prince calls you ‘brother.’”

“That’s definitely something to be jealous about.” Fu Yanxi sighed, “The third prince insists on calling me that; I can’t control it.”

The guards: “…”

They all wanted Yu Chen to go beat up Fu Yanxi again.

Thinking of this, Ji Bai stole a glance at Yu Chen, only to find that Yu Chen completely ignored Fu Yanxi, continuing to eat his meal as usual. He couldn’t help but feel amazed: Yu Chen was indeed the only one in their class to score full marks in “War Psychology.” His mental quality was extraordinary.

He withdrew his gaze and continued to ask Gui Yan: “What about you, Gui Yan? Did you also decide to be loyal to the prince for a lifetime because you met him at seventeen?”

“I was because…”

Gui Yan had just started to speak when Ni Chun suddenly walked into the cafeteria and told Yu Chen that Yun Xunlan wanted to see him alone after he finished eating.

As soon as Ni Chun delivered the message and left, Fu Yanxi’s envious gaze fell on Yu Chen.

Yu Chen lifted his eyelids, crossed his arms, and shot a teasing glance at Fu Yanxi: “What’s wrong? Are you jealous of me?”

Fu Yanxi remained silent but silently clenched his fists.

“Just say it; it’s okay. This is definitely something to be jealous about.” Yu Chen sighed softly, “The third prince insists on seeing me alone; I can’t control it.”

Fu Yanxi clenched his fists even tighter, making cracking sounds.

Gui Yan quickly pressed down on his right shoulder, reminding Fu Yanxi not to forget what he had said: “Xi Ge, we should support each other.”

Ji Bai also pressed down on his left shoulder, earnestly advising: “Xi Ge, we should help each other.”

Fu Yanxi: “…”

No! I can’t love him even a little!

He was still so jealous!

He had only met the third prince alone once, and that was when he was a child. How many times had Yu Chen met him alone?