Unexpectedly, Yú Chén acted as if he couldn’t read, asking him: 【Lán: What do you mean? I don’t understand, can you translate it for me?】

Yún Xún Lán could only reply in the most straightforward words: 【Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu: What I mean is, I feel we have a connection.】

【Lán: What connection?】

【Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu: The world is so big, yet we are both in love with the same treasure.】

Yún Xún Lán thought to himself: Since Yú Chén’s Comet-S7 was snatched away by him, Yú Chén must be feeling pretty terrible right now. So after explaining why they had a connection, he sent another comment, trying to cheer Yú Chén up and make him happy:

【Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu: So it’s okay that your treasure was taken by someone else; you can treat my treasure as yours. Which part of our treasure do you want to see? Which place? What details? I can take pictures of all of it for you. [Green Heart]】

But after sending those two comments, Yú Chén didn’t reply for a long time.

Could it be that he was too moved?

Not sure how to thank him?

However, three minutes later, Yú Chén sent a photo—a picture of a man wearing a heavy motorcycle helmet, giving the middle finger to the camera.

After seeing this photo, the system said, “Uh… looking at this situation, you two brothers really can’t do anything, but you can still do something.”

Yún Xún Lán was confused: “What else can we do besides being brothers?”

The system retorted, “Didn’t his gesture say it all?”

The middle finger gesture has many meanings, but the most widely known one is probably the famous curse that starts with an F, which is… C you.

The system sighed again: “So it’s on? You two have only chatted a few sentences, right? Even a fated encounter doesn’t happen this quickly.”

Yún Xún Lán felt a bit troubled: “But I don’t have those worldly desires.”

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been single for over two thousand years; he was single in his last life and still single in this one.

The system argued: “It’s fine; this kind of thing is like your shared treasure. One person having it is enough for both of you, so if he has worldly desires, it’s the same as you having them. You don’t need to worry at all.”

Yún Xún Lán fell into deep thought.

The system encouraged him: “Yú Chén alone can match how many people online? You don’t want to spend every night searching for useless negative comments from netizens, do you?”

Yún Xún Lán began to hesitate.

The system analyzed for him: “If you ask me, since Yú Chén wants to C you, just agree to him and go have sex. After that, you take on the responsibilities of an alpha and marry Yú Chén to give him a home. This way, even if you don’t develop love with Yú Chén, you can still develop some familial affection. When you two eventually divorce, you can think about how to be brothers with him. With love, familial affection, and friendship all in play, I don’t believe he can escape our grasp.”

Yún Xún Lán compromised: “You’re right; my time is precious and shouldn’t be wasted on staying up all night online.”

Thinking that his sensitive period would end tonight, Yún Xún Lán pulled out their shared treasure, the Comet-S7, along with its logo gloves, put them on, made an “ok” gesture, and took a photo to reply to Yú Chén.

He also paid great attention to detail, changing the heart emoji color from the original peaceful green to passionate red, which represents love:

【Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu: Sure, when do you want to? I’m free tonight. [Red Heart]】

Damn, he encountered a rival, the kind that hurts a thousand enemies while damaging himself eight hundred.

—This was Yú Chén’s first reaction upon seeing the “Ok” gesture photo.

Damn it, it wasn’t a rival he encountered; he was dealing with a cunning online perverted freak!

—After reading the text sent by “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu,” Yú Chén’s initial thoughts changed to this.

The problem was, he hadn’t posted any photos online wearing gray shorts, white socks, or a black suit and tight leather outfit, and his selfies never showed his face. How could he be targeted by an online perverted freak?

Could it be because he had a “military academy student” tag on his profile?

This kind of “blessing” should have gone to Fù Yánxī, so why did it come to him?

Yú Chén was completely at a loss.

To be honest, Yú Chén initially didn’t connect the person who snatched his Comet-S7 to “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu” until he noticed that “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu” deleted the post with the Comet-S7 photo. What does this mean?

It means the thief was feeling guilty and inadvertently confessed!

But the fact that “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu” could intercept the Comet-S7 before him and didn’t dare to say a word to the Saimou company proved that this person had an impressive background.

Maybe he was very wealthy, or perhaps he had significant power, or maybe he had both. Regardless of the situation, it wasn’t wise for Yú Chén to confront him directly at this moment—especially after realizing he couldn’t crack or trace “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu’s” IP address.

Not being able to track and being unable to trace are two completely different concepts.

The latter is due to a lack of ability, while the former is simply a matter of not having permission.

He had just become the personal guard of the Third Prince, and in a few days, it would be Yún Xún Lán’s coming-of-age banquet. He and Péi Xíngtíng had been waiting for this day for over ten years. At such an important moment, attracting the attention of a powerful figure like “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu” for a moment of verbal sparring was not a wise choice at all.

So, Yú Chén used all his patience and composure to send a polite question mark to “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu,” but “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu” replied with an infuriating question mark.

Then it turned into a long-winded back-and-forth, with lies that had more holes than a pair of crocs.

Yú Chén had to loan all his patience for the next ten years just to hold back and ask “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu” if they knew each other. Because he searched his memory and couldn’t recall when he had ever met such an alpha.

Now the case was solved: “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu” was a wild online perverted freak, no wonder he had no impression of him.

This pervert seemed to hold a high position and could make the Saimou company obedient, and currently, he couldn’t do anything about him.

However, Yú Chén always believed in a saying: A gentleman takes revenge; ten years is not too late.

Therefore, online, he responded to “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu” in a very restrained, civilized, and polite manner to clarify their relationship: 【Lán: Can you have some self-respect? I’m not gay.】

In reality, Yú Chén took a screenshot of their chat to report “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu’s” account for obscenity and pornography. Although it was unlikely to be effective, Yú Chén still wanted to report it.

As for blocking—blocking was impossible. Wouldn’t that just prove he lost? That he was anxious? That he was on the defensive?

So, not only did Yú Chén not block him, but he also secretly saved “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu’s” StarNet account page, waiting until he was promoted to a general and became a significant figure in the Galactic Empire to come back and arrest this lawless online perverted alpha!

Meanwhile, “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu” was unaware of the impending disaster and continued to provoke: 【Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu: Did I misunderstand? What do you mean then? I don’t understand, can you translate it for me?】

Yú Chén cursed: “…Damn this idiot.”

The texts they both sent were almost identical; how come his attitude was polite while “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu’s” was so infuriating?

Yú Chén felt he couldn’t wait to be promoted to general; he wanted to beat him up right now.

If Yún Xún Lán had mind-reading abilities and could read Yú Chén’s thoughts, he would definitely tell Yú Chén: What kind of “beating” are you thinking about? I’ll cooperate with you. Otherwise, this guessing game is going to be difficult for both of us.

Unfortunately, Yún Xún Lán didn’t have mind-reading abilities, so he could only sigh to the system: “Sigh, we misunderstood his meaning.”

The system replied: “Right, we should have let him translate what his middle finger gesture meant before speaking. Now it seems you have to start over with a new account.”

“He’s ignoring me.” Seeing that Yú Chén wasn’t replying to him, Yún Xún Lán felt extremely distressed. “Let me check if he blocked me. If not, maybe we still have a chance.”

He sent Yú Chén a private message, attaching a maximum red envelope limited to 200 star coins, and started “sweet-talking” again: 【Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to misinterpret your meaning. I heard that eating sweets can improve one’s mood. Aili Anxiya recently released a few new desserts that are delicious. I’ll treat you to some, so please don’t be angry, okay?】

Seeing that the red envelope and private message were successfully sent, Yún Xún Lán confirmed that Yú Chén hadn’t blocked him, but Yú Chén didn’t accept the red envelope and still didn’t reply to his private message.

However, Yú Chén had actually seen this private message.

He just didn’t need those two hundred star coins and didn’t want to chat more with an online perverted freak, fearing it would tarnish his reputation. After reading it, he directly closed his light brain and picked up his luggage to return to the military assembly.

On the way, he stopped by Aili Anxiya.

This wasn’t because Yú Chén was following “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu’s” suggestion, but because he loved sweets, and Aili Anxiya was the most famous chain dessert shop in the Imperial Capital Star. Every time Yú Chén had time off, he would visit Aili Anxiya to buy some cakes and desserts.

However, “Yǎng Yú Xīn Shǒu’s” private message did remind Yú Chén, so when he left the Aili Anxiya dessert shop, he bought all the new desserts they had.

One of them was a light pink cake shaped like a rose, made into a cone—this was Aili Anxiya’s new ice cream called “Lychee Rose,” which was very popular. Yú Chén stood in line for a full twenty minutes to buy it, and the staff said he was very lucky because this flavor usually sold out quickly and was in high demand, making it hard to buy.

But Yú Chén looked at it from left to right and couldn’t see what was so special about it; he just thought the price was steep.

One cone actually dared to sell for eighteen star coins! What a rip-off?

He wanted to see just how good this thing was.

Adhering to the principle that a tough alpha should never lick ice cream, Yú Chén chose to swallow it in one bite.

He bit off the head of the little rose and felt it melt on his tongue—cold, cool, not overly sweet, but very fragrant, just like its name: Lychee Rose.

Overall, the taste was indeed okay, but it was far from being called delicious. Why was it in such high demand?

Yú Chén couldn’t understand.

He pressed his lips together, the sweet fragrance of lychee and rose lingering on his tongue, refusing to fade. Even after returning to the military, Yú Chén still felt that the breath he exhaled carried this fragrance. He wasn’t used to it, and when he went to the assembly hall to grab a cup of water to wash down the taste, he accidentally bumped into someone coming towards him.

Yú Chén’s gaze darkened instantly, and his deep blue eyes, seemingly filled with crushed ice, became even colder, just like his voice, which held little warmth: “Fù Yánxī, when did you go blind? Can’t you watch where you’re going?”