“Toxin removal at 62%, research progress at 35%, vital signs normal, memory stable. It is estimated that the toxins will be completely gone from the body in three months.” Lu Tao stepped out of the inspection pod as Dr. Gerson gave him a smile filled with joy, “Congratulations, General, you’re another step closer to a full recovery.”

Lu Tao looked into his sincere eyes but couldn’t manage a smile.

Because of the toxins, his second personality, although derived from his primary personality and not a typical case of dissociative identity disorder or schizophrenia (strictly speaking, it wasn’t a mental illness but rather a “sickness”), nobody thought that “the current him” disappearing in a few months would be a bad thing.

Except for himself.

Having no memories from before, Lu Tao could initially pretend to be amnesiac, but realizing he was a derivative personality and that his experiences during these months would soon vanish, he felt an indescribable discomfort.

Despite this, the deep-seated military spirit within him suppressed any dark thoughts that shouldn’t arise and actively cooperated with the Military Hospital’s research experiments, even taking part himself.

Together, they stepped out of the lab and handed over the data to Doctor Tian Qi. Doctor Tian had been tirelessly working, hoping to develop a vaccine to counteract the toxins from the Bug race and the Werewolf race to prevent potential future harm to humans. Lu Tao didn’t quite agree with this; he had reviewed most of the data and knew that there were over 30,000 species of bugs on Planet Rainforest, with over 5,000 of them capable of releasing toxins. To decode each of their toxins seemed nearly impossible. In fact, he preferred another solution—to completely annihilate Planet Rainforest.

A permanent solution.

The only drawback to this plan was that, although they possessed high-end weapons capable of destroying both Planet Rainforest and the Werewolf Planet, it would cause a quantum storm in space, affecting the entire star system and potentially leading to chaos, from which humans would not be exempt.

This plan was naturally shelved, leaving only the second option: to develop a weapon that could eradicate the bugs of Planet Rainforest without harming other species, a task fraught with difficulties and which had already failed twenty-five times.

But now, there was a glimmer of hope.

The toxin in his body was the basis for this hope.

Unlike the “Extermination Plan” faction, some high-ups on the Imperial Planet believed in another approach—finding a balance and coexisting peacefully with the two enemy races. Doctor Tian Qi was one of them. He didn’t agree with eradicating the Bug and Werewolf races entirely. He believed in the philosophy that “existence is justified” and felt that humans were no nobler than any other race. He thought that not all Bugs and Werewolves were aggressors, just as not all humans were good. Therefore, his research aimed to remove the “bad” parts of these races and keep the “good,” then live peacefully with humans.

This theory surprisingly won considerable support among the high-level officials, with even half of them endorsing this view, thus thwarting the “Extermination Plan.” Humans still occasionally suffered from attacks by the Bug and Werewolf races.

Because of this, the spokesperson for the “Extermination faction” was furious and even said vehemently at a press conference: “We should throw these peaceniks onto Planet Rainforest or the Werewolf Planet to see if they can encounter any ‘good’ Bugs or Werewolves to protect them from being eaten by their own kind!”

But despite the disputes, experiments on both sides continued.

After leaving the Military Hospital, Lu Tao headed to the military headquarters to submit the day’s experimental data. General Mosi was very satisfied with his work, comfortingly saying, “Sometimes, I think you haven’t changed much from before, except for being a bit gentler. Was it really a second personality that was triggered? I’m starting to doubt Doctor Tian Qi’s conclusion.”

“I don’t know, General,” Lu Tao replied calmly, though his fingers twitched slightly.

General Mosi smiled, “But I know, whether it’s the you now or the future you, you care the same about human safety. You don’t have to worry too much, your current symptoms are no different from amnesia, just that you’ve forgotten the past, and the future you might forget what’s happening now.”

“Uh-huh,” Lu Tao stood up, “If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back first.”

“Of course, you can go now, you’re still on vacation after all. The next batch of data isn’t due for another half-month, so maybe you could take a trip to another planet during this time,” Mosi suggested with a mischievous smile, “Maybe with your partner.”

This time, Lu Tao finally cracked a smile, “I was just thinking the same.”

Since “his” memories only lasted these three months, during this time, Lu Tao wanted to spend as much time as possible with his partner, to leave no regrets.

After returning home, Lu Tao immediately started making arrangements. He was quite familiar with the environments of seventy-two planets, and now that it was winter, the climate on the Imperial Planet had also turned harsh. Knowing that Cheng Jin was sensitive to cold and liked eating honeyed grapes, he decided to set their destination as Planet Sunshine. He submitted their travel request first, and since he was on vacation, it was quickly approved. He then purchased tickets and booked a hotel.

When he placed the two tickets on the table in front of Cheng Jin, who was busy with handicrafts, it took nearly ten minutes before he got a response.

Cheng Jin had completed a part of his work and was about to stand up to stretch when he noticed the two cards on the table. He paused, suddenly looking up to see his husband standing there with a playful smile, watching him—it was unclear how long he had been there. When their eyes met, Lu Tao raised an eyebrow, “Finally noticed me?”

Cheng Jin hastily put down what he was holding and rushed toward him. Lately, the two had become much more intimate, and such gestures had become habitual, though he still felt a thrill of being cherished whenever embraced. With an irresistibly coquettish tone, Cheng Jin asked, “When did you get back?”

“Fifteen minutes ago.” Lu Tao pinched his cheek and kissed his lips, “When will your order be ready?”

“I can’t say for sure…” In fact, the orders had been piling up ever since a certain Si Kui advertised for him, and now Cheng Jin could only selectively accept some of them.

“Can you spare a week for me?”

Cheng Jin didn’t hesitate, “Of course! My time is yours if you want it,” his face flushing with excitement.

Lu Tao was evidently pleased with his sweet words, giving his butt a squeeze, “Then come with me to a place.” He pointed at the two tickets on the table. Cheng Jin followed his gaze and curiously picked up the tickets. He didn’t recognize them and found the paper cards rather novel. He scrutinized the text, “The only pass from the Imperial Planet to Planet Sunshine,” along with some “travel tips,” and his eyes widened in surprise, “We’re going to Planet Sunshine?”

General Lu Tao tilted his head and smiled, “Yeah, wanna go?”

“Of course, I do!” Cheng Jin’s face lit up with joy, and he jumped excitedly, “It’s a trip! A trip to another planet! How wonderful!”

Seeing his happiness, Lu Tao couldn’t help but feel joyful too, and he embraced him tightly, “That happy?”

“Yes, I’ve never been to another planet, of course, I’m happy.” Cheng Jin looked at him bashfully, “And I’m going with my husband!”

Once their trip was confirmed, Cheng Jin’s heart was filled with anticipation. He looked forward to creating lasting, beautiful memories with his husband, and going to an unfamiliar place was simply the perfect plan. Thus, he secretly made no invitations, not even mentioning it to his brother.

Before departure, he rushed to complete as many orders as possible. Then, on the day they left, he packed his luggage and accompanied Lu Tao to Planet Sunshine.

“The total travel time is twelve hours, including the time in folded space,” Lu Tao explained patiently as they boarded, “Otherwise, it would take half a month one way.”

“Wow, that’s far!” Cheng Jin exclaimed. The area of the Imperial Planet was already massive, covering over five million square kilometers, but due to the highly developed transportation system, it took at most ten hours from the southernmost to the northernmost end by car. If traveling by spaceship at average speed, it would only take two hours. So, half a month felt like a lot to Cheng Jin, giving him a real sense of “distance.” He curiously looked around the carriage, which resembled a train but was actually the highest-end technology hovercar, the only type capable of traveling through folded space roads. The carriage they were in had about fifty seats, and there weren’t many people in their section. Cheng Jin asked, “So, we’re about to enter folded space?”

Lu Tao checked his wristwatch, “In about thirty minutes.”

Cheng Jin couldn’t help but feel nervous, gripping Lu Tao’s sleeve and whispering, “Will it feel dizzy when we go in?”

“Going in?” General Lu Tao curved his lips slightly and lowered his voice, “No dizziness, but it will feel very moist, slippery, hot, and comfortable…”

Cheng Jin naively widened his eyes, not understanding until General Lu Tao’s mischievous grin became too much to hold back, and then he realized, his face instantly blushing red, and he whispered in protest, “How could you, think of that, that place…”