Don’t be fooled by Yún Xúnlán’s usual indifference; in fact, he has a bit of an interest in fish—especially in keeping live fish.

When he first learned to surf the internet in this world, he came across a saying: fish have a memory of only seven seconds, and after that, they forget everything that happened seven seconds ago. Although this claim is false, Yún Xúnlán was still deeply impressed by the idea of “fish” because of that rumor.

So, when he heard Fù Yánxī say that the pet market had arrived, he immediately pulled out his sunglasses and mask, putting them on to hide his eye color and appearance. He even skillfully tied his hair into a small braid for disguise—no need to worry about hair color; silver hair is super trendy in the Galactic Empire. In fact, among their group of six, half of them have silver hair. Just a casual glance along the roadside would reveal at least three out of ten people sporting silver locks, which is nearly a third of the population.

After Yún Xúnlán got out of the car, he quickly spun around and entered a small pet fish shop by the roadside, so they didn’t attract the attention of passersby.

However, this pet fish shop was quite small and had a rather ordinary decor. Even Nǐ Chūn couldn’t guess how this shop caught Yún Xúnlán’s eye, prompting him to step inside.

“Hello!”

The shop owner, also an alpha, rushed over with enthusiasm upon seeing customers. But when he realized that this group was almost entirely composed of alphas—high-ranking alphas at that—he felt a bit breathless from the pressure of their status. When his indifferent blue eyes met Yú Chén’s, he instinctively took two steps back, his voice wavering, “May I ask if you all… are looking to buy fish pets?”

Nǐ Chūn, being a beta and relatively harmless, responded to the shop owner, “Yes.”

The shop owner sighed in relief, glad they weren’t here to cause trouble. “Are any of you first-time fish owners? Do you have any previous experience with keeping fish?”

The system was a bit worried that Yún Xúnlán might say, “I have experience with fish, but not with live ones.”

Fortunately, Yún Xúnlán’s answer was quite normal as he gently replied, “It’s my first time keeping fish.”

The others fell silent, and since Yún Xúnlán was the only one speaking, the shop owner immediately recognized who was leading the group. He turned his gaze to the silver-haired youth, the one who exuded the strongest sense of pressure among all the alphas.

He swallowed hard and cautiously replied, “Do you have a preferred type of fish, sir? If not, we can recommend some beginner-friendly fish species.”

The distance between the youth and the shop owner was a bit far, with the latter standing behind a row of fish tanks, like a precious statue displayed in a showcase. The silver hair was luxurious and elegant, but it felt even more unapproachable than the cold moon hanging high in the sky. No matter how gentle his tone was, the aloofness stemming from his noble background lingered.

The shop owner thought someone like the youth might prefer expensive ornamental fish like the red-and-white dragon fish, the Bacalare dragon, or the mint fairy fish, which would match his status. However, to his surprise, the youth raised his hand and pointed at a dark blue figure in the fish tank, saying, “I like this fish. What kind is it?”

“It’s a betta fish, and it’s one of the four beginner-friendly fish species,” the shop owner informed Yún Xúnlán. “It’s hardy and not easy to die, plus it looks great.”

Yún Xúnlán leaned down to observe it closely, exclaiming, “Then I’ll keep this fish. It’s blue and really beautiful.”

Yú Chén, who had just been complimented by the youth with the word “beautiful,” felt that Yún Xúnlán’s comment had a deeper meaning. He glanced at Yún Xúnlán and then back at the blue betta in the tank.

The fish was framed in a palm-sized compartment, with a tail fin that flowed like satin, shimmering with iridescent colors as it swam curiously toward the youth.

But Yún Xúnlán curled his fingers and gently tapped the glass of the fish tank twice, scaring the little blue fish away.

Yet, just a few seconds later, as if it had forgotten the earlier scare, the fish swam back toward him, its mouth kissing the glass right at Yún Xúnlán’s fingertips.

Yún Xúnlán chuckled, “Didn’t they say fish have a memory of only seven seconds? Why doesn’t it hold a grudge at all?”

“Because it really likes you,” the shop owner said, a skill every shop owner must master. He pointed to the other small fish around the blue betta, “It comes in other colors too. This red one is also a betta, and these two green and gold ones are as well. There are many color varieties.”

Yún Xúnlán followed the shop owner’s lead and glanced at the other small fish, then pointed at the red betta, looking up at Fù Yánxī, “Fù Yánxī, this fish’s color is similar to your previous hair.”

Suddenly being called out by the Third Prince to recall past memories, Fù Yánxī felt so happy he could hardly contain himself, stuttering, “M-Master, do you remember my previous hair color?”

“Of course,” Yún Xúnlán replied, “Red really suits you.”

Fù Yánxī exclaimed excitedly, “Then I’ll dye my hair back to that color tonight!”

Yún Xúnlán conveniently omitted the part about how “the current silver also suits you.”

He looked at Fù Yánxī’s red cheeks and ears, which matched the color of the red betta’s scales, and said to the system, “Ah, I get it now. Blushing isn’t just a problem unique to Yú Chén; it’s a common issue among the guards. Look, Fù Yánxī is blushing too after I complimented him.”

“They’re still too young, not used to being complimented,” the system clicked its tongue. “If they were like you, being praised continuously for two thousand years, they wouldn’t blush.”

Yún Xúnlán agreed with the system’s statement, “That’s true.”

The shop owner continued to ask for the customers’ opinions, “Sir, how many bettas would you like to keep? Bettas are very aggressive towards their own kind, especially male bettas, so they’re not suitable for group keeping. If you want to keep multiple in the same tank, it’s best to separate them with transparent dividers.”

As if to confirm the shop owner’s words, the blue betta in the tank noticed that Yún Xúnlán’s fingertip was no longer aimed at it but at another betta. The red betta, blissfully unaware, mimicked the earlier kiss to Yún Xúnlán’s fingertip, prompting the blue betta to suddenly charge at the red one, puffing up its cheeks in anger and wildly flicking its tail.

Yún Xúnlán raised an eyebrow at the blue betta, “Wow, it’s fierce.”

“Yes,” the pet fish shop owner nodded. “However, the presence of rivals can make bettas more aggressive, which will enhance their colors and help them grow larger and stronger. So it’s not all bad.”

Yún Xúnlán said, “Since they’re not suitable for group keeping, I’ll just keep this blue betta.”

The shop owner scooped out the blue betta and placed it in a temporary sealed water bag filled with oxygen, handing it to Yún Xúnlán. “Since you’re only keeping one betta, you can show it a mirror often to maintain its fighting spirit.”

Yún Xúnlán earnestly noted the shop owner’s advice, “I will.”

Seeing that Yún Xúnlán had no intention of buying more bettas, Fù Yánxī mustered his courage to ask, “Master, if you don’t plan to buy this red betta, can I buy it and keep it myself?”

“Sure,” Yún Xúnlán was always friendly and kind to his subordinates. A betta wouldn’t cost much star coins, so he agreed and added, “I’ll give it to you.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, Fù Yánxī felt like he was being cooked alive, his face turning redder than Yú Chén’s: “…H-How can I let you spend money on me, Master? Please let me buy it myself!”

“It’s fine,” Yún Xúnlán chuckled softly and turned to Guì Yán, Lù Yōu, Nǐ Chūn, and Yú Chén, asking, “Do you all want to keep one too?”

Nǐ Chūn smiled and politely declined, “Thank you, Master, but I’ll pass.”

Lù Yōu, who was usually quiet, hesitated for a moment before responding.

Yú Chén, on the other hand, wore a gloomy expression and refused to speak.

Only Guì Yán raised his right hand to answer eagerly, “I want one too, but Master, please let us buy it ourselves. I want to buy this golden one.”

—Golden! That was the same color as the Third Prince’s eyes; he absolutely couldn’t let anyone else snatch it away!

Not only did he want to keep it, but he also planned to dye his hair golden to match this noble betta!

After saying that, Guì Yán nudged Yú Chén with his elbow, urging him, “Yú Chén, why don’t you buy this green one? If we all go back and keep bettas together, then Yánxī’s fish can grow redder, I can be more yellow, and you can be greener!”

Yú Chén: “…”

Yú Chén: “I don’t want to keep one.”

“I already have a… pet,” Yú Chén shifted his gaze, his blue eyes locking onto Yún Xúnlán’s face, looking at him like he was gazing at the lychee rose in his room, “He can’t do without my care.”

Lù Yōu then stepped forward, “Then I’ll take that green one.”

In the end, Yún Xúnlán didn’t let them spend any money; he bought all four bettas himself and gifted the other three, keeping only the blue one.

Fù Yánxī, Guì Yán, and Lù Yōu each got a betta and happily boarded the second vehicle.

Yún Xúnlán, holding his new little blue betta, sat in the first vehicle, feeling quite happy. The only one who remained silent was Yú Chén, staring at the back of the front seat, his mood so bad he could almost swallow a live fish. It wasn’t until he heard Yún Xúnlán call his name that he snapped out of it.

“Yú Chén.”

Yú Chén turned his head at the sound, his gaze landing on a water bag containing the blue betta—its back facing him, its face always directed toward Yún Xúnlán.

In the next moment, Yún Xúnlán tilted his head slightly, revealing his fair face from behind the water bag, gently smiling as he explained why he had walked into that ordinary little pet fish shop: “When I first saw this little fish, I thought its scales looked like your eyes, and I really wanted to buy it. But now that I compare it, it still can’t match the beauty of your eyes.”

Yú Chén stared at the golden eyes reflecting his own image, and in the sparkling gaze of the youth, he suddenly felt like a fish with only a seven-second memory. His ears turned red again, but his lips were sealed, and he feigned calmness, “…Is that so?”

Yún Xúnlán affirmed, “Yes, your eyes are like a sea.”

He lifted the water bag higher, allowing the light to refract and magnify the alpha’s eyes: “From this angle, it looks like it’s swimming in the sea. But bettas are freshwater fish, right? They shouldn’t be able to survive in the sea.”

Little did he know, his own eyes were also distorted and magnified by the water bag.

Yú Chén watched as the blue betta was captured by the golden star, opening his mouth to say, “Even if it were a sea fish, it wouldn’t matter because this sea is mine, and I won’t let it stay.”

“Then who can stay?” Yún Xúnlán lowered the water bag, “Your pet?”

Yú Chén replied, “Yes.”

Yún Xúnlán became curious and wanted to exchange some pet-keeping experiences with Yú Chén, “What kind of pet do you have? Is it alive?”

“It’s alive.”

The alpha’s deep blue eyes locked onto him, unblinking. Then he leaned closer, not telling Yún Xúnlán the type of his pet but whispering softly, “It’s very much like you.”