Lu Tao’s every word sent Cheng Jin into a flurry of emotions. From the moment Cheng Jin first laid eyes on him, every step closer felt like a leap in his heart. It made all his previous attempts to avoid Lu Tao feel utterly pointless. 

After their meal, they strolled a bit longer, with Lu Tao buying things for Cheng Jin this time. It was clear that shopping wasn’t Lu Tao’s forte; he walked straight into the store, zeroed in on what he wanted, grabbed it, and called for the store manager to wrap it up and ring it up—skipping the haggling altogether. 

He bought Cheng Jin a set of figurines from Ocean Planet, which were absolutely gorgeous and even emitted a blue halo. If the materials weren’t so ordinary, they would probably fetch a high price.

Cheng Jin held the figurines, slightly surprised. “You actually know I like blue?”

Lu Tao glanced at him without denying it. Instead, he asked, “What about that car? Do you like it?”

Cheng Jin was momentarily taken aback. “Which one?” But he quickly caught on. “The ice-blue car at home? You bought that for me?”

“Who else would I have bought it for?” Lu Tao replied.

Cheng Jin was genuinely shocked. This was completely unexpected. He had fantasized about whether it was for him when Fei Li had lent it to him, only to dismiss the idea. He never imagined it was really for him. “Y-you… how could you…”

“Traveling without transportation is inconvenient.”

His cold and simple explanation cooled Cheng Jin’s excitement a bit. He bit his lip and mumbled, “I thought…”

“Thought what?”

Seeing the man stop and look as if he wanted to hear him out made Cheng Jin blush. He instinctively shook his head, but under Lu Tao’s inquisitive gaze, he confessed, “I thought you were giving it to someone else.”

Lu Tao frowned slightly. “Bribery is against the law. I wouldn’t do something like that.”

Cheng Jin felt embarrassed. “I didn’t think you were bribing anyone! You’re the most upright person; how could you do something like that?”

Lu Tao looked a bit surprised. “Then who do you think I could give it to?”

Cheng Jin didn’t know how to answer. He murmured, “Let’s just go back.”

This time, instead of walking back, they rode a unique long-haired horse-drawn carriage in Ice Crystal Planet. Long-haired horses, native to cold planets, resembled regular horses but had very thick fur that kept them warm. They were also considerably taller than horses in other climates, capable of trudging through snow. The carriages they pulled weren’t solely dependent on their own strength; the inside was equipped with a power source, making the ride smooth and comfortable, with a canopy to shield them from the wind and snow.

“That horse is so beautiful.” Before getting on, Cheng Jin couldn’t help but stroke the horse’s fur. Lu Tao glanced at him again and suddenly asked, “Want to take a picture together?”

“Ah?” Cheng Jin was confused at first but then followed his gaze and noticed many people taking photos with the horses before getting on, mostly girls. His face turned red, and his heart raced. “Sure, that sounds good.”

Standing next to the horse with a somewhat awkward posture, Cheng Jin found himself slightly shorter than the animal. As he posed for Lu Tao’s holographic camera, he felt a strange thrill.

Lu Tao taking pictures of him felt like a dream he never dared to imagine. If only it were a picture together…

While sitting in the carriage, Cheng Jin’s communicator vibrated. He opened it to find that Lu Tao had sent him the photo. When he enlarged it, the picture turned out beautifully, capturing both his cute face and the handsome long-haired horse. After admiring it for a moment, he remarked, “It would be great if long-haired horses existed on Geothermal Planet. That way, traveling would be much easier for everyone.”

Lu Tao replied, “There used to be, eighty years ago.”

Cheng Jin was puzzled. “Then why aren’t there any now?”

“There are still some, but they’re very few in number, and there are protected areas for them. So it’s not surprising that you haven’t seen any,” Lu Tao explained. “They used to be plentiful, even more than on Planet 26, but they were hunted to the brink of extinction.”

“Hunted?” Cheng Jin shivered. “Why were they hunted? Was it for their meat?”

Lu Tao said, “Primarily for their fur.” His gaze landed on the long-haired horse in front of them. “Their fur is very warm. Long-haired horses can survive in temperatures as low as minus thirty degrees, all thanks to their insulating fur. Some humans in cold regions had ill intentions and started hunting the long-haired horses, discarding the meat and just taking the fur to sell at high prices.”

Cheng Jin’s face turned pale. “That’s… so cruel. What happened later?”

Lu Tao continued, “This was exposed, and authorities sent people to investigate, arresting many criminals and sending them to Hell Planet. They also established protected areas. Because the process wasn’t smooth, the military was even deployed. For this reason, Planet 29 was left unattended.”

“Why?” Cheng Jin didn’t quite understand. “What does ‘left unattended’ mean?”

“It means no longer providing large-scale economic and material support, and the originally planned tourism routes were rerouted, leaving basic infrastructure abandoned,” Lu Tao clarified. “It was basically abandoned.”

Cheng Jin finally understood why the distances between Planet 26 and Planet 29 weren’t far apart, yet their economic developments were worlds apart. He rubbed his face. “The people I’ve met from there have all been pretty nice. If they’re caught up in this, it’s really unfair.”

Lu Tao didn’t comment much on that but simply said, “It’s been eighty years since it was abandoned. It’s just about time to release it. Your brother chose to stay there to develop his career; he picked a good time.”

Cheng Jin was even more surprised. “You know all that?” He muttered, “How much information has Fei Li dug up for you?”

Lu Tao didn’t answer that. “The premise is that he can temporarily avoid Yan Qi finding him.”

Mentioning Yan Qi made Cheng Jin feel a headache. He asked, “Can you contact my brother? I still have a lot of questions for him.”

“I’ll help you reach him when we get back.” Lu Tao opened the holographic screen and found Fei Li’s contact window among the hidden screens, typing a few words to send.

The long-haired horse brought them safely back to the hotel. They took the elevator up, which occasionally stopped to let others in, making it difficult for Cheng Jin to say anything. Once they reached their floor, the two got off the elevator. Lu Tao used his room card to unlock the door, and just as he was about to close it, he suddenly said, “I don’t have any extramarital affairs.”

His abrupt declaration left Cheng Jin momentarily confused about why he would say that. Lu Tao continued, “That car was ordered for you. There’s no one else.”

The unexpected bluntness made Cheng Jin blush. Only then did he realize that Lu Tao was responding to his earlier question. His heart raced, and he fidgeted for a while before saying, “I know now…”

After a bit of chaos, Cheng Jin’s heart calmed down, and to keep his mind from wandering, he made an effort to change the subject. “Can we contact my brother now?”

“Wait another ten minutes,” Lu Tao replied. “Fei Li is still on his way back.”

Cheng Jin felt a bit ashamed. “So he’s already left Geothermal Planet? It’s really too much trouble for him to come back.”

“It’s not trouble.” Lu Tao shot him a glance. “Just sit for a bit.”

Lu Tao took the only single sofa in the room, leaving Cheng Jin to sit on the bed. He wasn’t used to spending time alone with Lu Tao and didn’t know what to do. Since he couldn’t do any crafts to pass the time, he opened the holographic screen.

The holographic screen, also known as the human brain, was a comprehensive invention with almost every entertainment activity available. Many people had become obsessed with the virtual world of the screen, often referred to as “net addicts.” Cheng Jin wasn’t a net addict, thanks in part to his brother, Cheng Xu, who had locked many permissions on his screen, preventing him from accessing unsuitable programs for young people. As for games, he didn’t know if it was because he was too slow; he only ever ended up getting beaten. Since Cheng Jin wasn’t a masochist, he eventually stopped playing.

In truth, apart from having a terrible personality and spending too much money shopping, he didn’t have many other bad habits.

As he opened his contact list, Cheng Jin noticed several records of Eureka trying to contact him, surprisingly numerous, especially during a certain period when he sent messages almost every day, sounding heartbroken as if he thought something had happened to Cheng Jin. Those words brought a lump to his throat.

Aside from Eureka, no one else had reached out to him.

But then again, he realized he didn’t have any better friends.

Cheng Jin closed the holographic screen and couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Lu Tao. He seemed to be handling some affairs, sitting straight and looking very focused. After hesitating for a moment, Cheng Jin finally spoke, “Lu Tao.”

The handsome man almost immediately focused his gaze on Cheng Jin’s face, asking, “What’s up?”

Cheng Jin asked, “Did you never suspect that I really died? Like what was reported in the news, that I accidentally fell into folded space to hide and then completely disappeared. Didn’t you ever doubt that?”

“No,” Lu Tao answered succinctly.

Cheng Jin was taken aback. “Why not?”

Lu Tao explained, “You’re timid and wouldn’t dare to move without someone you trust guiding you. Cheng Xu is a cautious person; he wouldn’t act without being sure. He knows that in such situations, the best way to ensure survival is to remain still, follow the other party’s commands, and wait for rescue. So if you were to leave, it must have been with reliable help. You’ve interacted with Ta Ta, so of course, you’d trust him. And once Cheng Xu heard he was a ‘chimeric,’ he probably decided to take the risk.”

Cheng Jin had to concede to Lu Tao’s logical analysis.

After a moment, Lu Tao said, “You can contact your brother now.”