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“What do you think Old Xi will name the new nation now that the interstellar world has finally been unified? Personally, I think Steller(Xingchen)1 grows more meaningful the more I reflect on it—like a star, endlessly radiating light and heat. The symbolism is just perfect.”
The war had been quiet for some time, and Steller had become the sole ruler of the stars. Yet there was still no official word about founding a new nation, leaving the lower ranks to speculate endlessly.
“Don’t bring that up. I heard the inauguration ceremony plans are already on their twenty-second draft and still not finalized.”
The first speaker’s attention was immediately caught. “Huh? Why? Is there still some threat? Did those runaway star pirates resurface, or has the insect race stirred again?”
“Neither.” The man’s expression suddenly grew mysterious. After glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, he lowered his voice. “You know our boss Xi has an omega, right?”
The listener, infected by his secretive manner, hesitated. “I know. You mean the only therapist in the galaxy who can cure cosmic radiation? What about him?”
“They say the reason the new nation hasn’t been established… is because of him.” The speaker could hardly contain the gossip glinting in his eyes.
“What? What does he have to do with it? I thought the rumors said that mysterious therapist had fallen out with the boss and left long ago.”
“Half true. The therapist has been missing for a while, but he hasn’t left. He’s been locked up—by our boss!”
“What?!”
“Shh, quiet down!” The man looked around nervously. “Supposedly the boss did something to upset him. The therapist wanted to leave, but Xi refused, and ended up imprisoning him. That’s why no radiation patients have been cured in so long.”
“Think about it—his ability is vital. Isn’t part of the reason Steller unified the stars so quickly thanks to him? And remember, Huo Mengming once publicly declared he’d wait for that therapist forever. If he ever allied with the therapist… tsk tsk. You think our boss would ever just let him go?”
“People with rare talents like that… no ruler would release them to strengthen a rival, even if their relationship had already soured.”
Satisfied with sharing such juicy gossip, the speaker left. The listener digested it in silence for a while, then too departed, eager to spread the word.
Within days, the rumor that Shi Chan had been imprisoned by Xi Ming was raging everywhere in whispers.
“Imprisoned?” Bai Wen2’s eyes lit with interest when he heard the rumor.
“Yes. That’s what everyone’s saying now, though no one knows if it’s true.” The alpha who had brought him the news—one of the former deputy commanders of the Federation’s Third Army—looked at Bai Wen with open admiration. He couldn’t resist putting down other alphas in front of the omega he adored, even if the alpha he disparaged was now his superior. “Seems that even after unifying the stars, Xi Ming is still stuck in the old Empire’s ways. Locking up omegas… I’d only ever heard of that in the Empire.”
Bai Wen merely smiled faintly and let his gaze fall to the wine glass in his hand.
Shi Chan… Bai Wen still remembered that omega. He had briefly encountered him while on a spy mission at the old Empire’s capital star. Unlike the spoiled and arrogant omegas of the capital, Shi Chan struck Bai Wen as unusually gentle.
Back then, Bai Wen had even considered using him as a stepping stone to get close to Xi Ming—only to learn, just months later, that the two had eloped. On hearing that, Bai Wen immediately branded Shi Chan as a love-struck fool and forgot about him.
Who would have thought that half a year later, while plundering a pirate crew, Bai Wen would cross paths with Shi Chan again—alongside an alpha who, though hiding his features, had Xi Ming’s build?
Bai Wen didn’t relent in his attack because of the fleeting acquaintance. Yet no one expected that the two figures seemingly obliterated before his eyes would “rise from the dead” three years later: Xi Ming not only cured cosmic radiation, but also became leader of the greatest rebel force.
In that instant, Bai Wen finally understood how the Red Rose Ghost pirate group he had worked so hard to seize was destroyed, and why his seemingly flawless spy cover had suddenly been blown.
By then, Bai Wen had already altered his face and name. Using his omega identity, he maneuvered among the commanders of the Federation’s Third Army, easily influencing their decisions.
Learning that he now had a life-and-death grudge against Xi Ming and Shi Chan didn’t worry him much at first. His plan was to completely abandon the “Imperial spy Bai Wen” identity, take up a new name, and seize command of the Federation army.
But the Federation kept suffering crushing defeats at Xi Ming’s hands. The battle lines collapsed again and again. The Third Army was about to face Xi Ming directly.
As Xi Ming drew closer to becoming the ultimate victor of the galaxy-wide war, Bai Wen hesitated—between fleeing to some remote planet to live out his days in obscurity, or throwing in his lot with Xi Ming before the Federation sank completely.
If not for the Red Rose Ghost incident, Bai Wen could have chosen the latter without hesitation. But the reality was, he and that couple had a rather bloody score between them.
And yet… could he really resign himself to vanishing into obscurity, living as a nobody in some backwater village? Never.
Even back when he was just a faceless recruit in the spy organization, known only by a string of numbers, he had been the top omega in every test, every training list. That string of code representing him had always ranked first—until at last he graduated with the highest honors, assigned to the Empire’s capital with an important mission.
Bai Wen was the first name he ever bore. He had stolen it from another omega, but that did not dampen his fondness for it.
Perhaps he was born to manipulate hearts. Even when marked, he could maintain a cold, detached view, watching foolish alphas throw themselves at him, obsessed, offering him their hearts—and the benefits he desired.
On the capital star, teeming with arrogant alphas, Bai Wen had thrived. But before he could rise too far, his identity was exposed.
With the help of several alphas infatuated with him, he soon escaped. He had not known who his hidden enemy was, but for safety, he chose to abandon the Empire entirely, severing ties with the spy organization in the process.
That Imperial chapter was only the beginning of Bai Wen’s grand story. Who would have thought that one ordinary pirate-raid would become the greatest obstacle to his power today?
After long hesitation, Bai Wen chose power.
He used a forbidden drug to end the life of the Federation’s Third Army commander, then led the entire corps to defect—tearing open a rift in the Federation’s defense line that could never be mended.
Afterward, he turned on the Federation, tearing into them at the front lines, earning merit after merit. Only recently, when the dust had finally settled and there were no more battles to fight, did he return to the Steller headquarters.
He had dodged meetings for several days, citing his heat as an excuse. But now Bai Wen had to face a pressing question: would his true identity be exposed?
Skipping the subject of Shi Chan, Bai Wen turned to the alpha beside him. “How’s that matter I asked you to investigate?”
The alpha’s smile faded. “There’s a lead on the person you’re looking for. We should be able to make contact in a day or two. But… are you really sure you want to go through with that surgery? Maybe if you wait a little longer, medical science will advance enough to cure the condition in your glands.”
Bai Wen gave him a glance. “The moment you get in touch, tell me immediately.”
Seeing Bai Wen’s resolve, the alpha’s expression filled with distress, but he didn’t dare to persuade him further.
No matter how many times someone changes their identity or appearance, a professional could still recognize them through other details. So if Bai Wen wanted to hold power under Xi Ming’s rule, he would have to make far greater, more thorough alterations to his body.
But Bai Wen didn’t trust the alphas he used. He only told them that his glands were suffering from an incurable disease and that he needed surgery to have them removed.
However, whether in the Federation or the Empire, the removal of an omega’s glands was considered an absolute taboo. Which meant Bai Wen had no choice but to seek out a skilled underground doctor.
After the alpha left, Bai Wen looked toward the door, his eyes glinting with a faint, merciless light. If he wanted to completely change his body data and live under a new identity, then those familiar with him naturally could not be allowed to remain.
Two days later, several alphas escorted a heavily shrouded omega onto an interstellar ship.
On the third day of travel, the starship encountered a spatial rift. All 142 crew members died instantly, leaving only the omega commander alive inside an escape pod. When a passing ship rescued him, his body was riddled with fractures and burns over large areas. After repeated brushes with death, he applied for emergency surgery and treatment on the nearest planet.
Steller’s command approved the request.
From then on, the records of Bai Wen of the Old Empire were quietly erased. What returned to Steller was an omega commander named Liu Hui, whose glands had been removed as a result of the explosion.
Too many factions had defected when they saw the tide turning. Although Xi Ming knew that the Third Federation Corps’ betrayal had accelerated his own advance, matters of reward and recognition only required his signature. For opportunists like these, he paid little real attention.
After unifying the stars, Xi Ming’s focus shifted almost entirely to the door that had stayed tightly shut.
Leaning against its cold surface, he could only use the hard sensation at his back to imagine Shi Chan’s warmth.
More than six months had passed. Twice as long as the three months he was supposed to wait…
And still Shi Chan had not emerged.
The half-year felt endless—so long that even the memories he treasured of Shi Chan grew stingy and elusive, so long that he began to doubt whether there truly was an omega he loved beyond that door.
Xi Ming spent more and more time in that place, gradually losing the ability to tell whether he was falling into delusion. Perhaps, in his bitter life, he had only imagined an omega who catered to him, drew close to him, loved him, and tolerated every one of his flaws.
He forgot when it started, but Xi Ming began practicing the cultivation technique Shi Chan had once taught him. Only through the ceaseless pain coursing inside his body did he feel the reality of Shi Chan’s existence.
Again and again, he forced his spiritual power to run along the path Shi Chan had shown him. Even when it shattered from exhaustion, he refused to stop.
Day after day, in that silent space, he endured the torment, clinging to what might be his only remaining link to Shi Chan—even if it was nothing more than a self-imposed illusion.
Even if the bridge was built from pain, he continued tirelessly, guiding his spiritual power through every channel of his body.
What Xi Ming had not yet realized was that, with each repetition, his relentless stimulation of fixed points with spiritual power was quietly triggering subtle changes in his body.
Unaware of this, he nonetheless pushed his control to extraordinary levels. In an interstellar era where spiritual power was handled in such a crude fashion, Xi Ming’s mastery had already made him—without question—the number one.
Sia[Translator]
Hi, I'm Sia! Your go-to translator for thrilling tales, happy endings, and perpetual page-turning ^_^.