Chapter 77 – Change of Plans

Stellar had started developing from its position on the tri-border region, and amidst the chaos of war, they had already taken over a significant amount of territory. However, Xi Ming hadn’t allowed his subordinates to loot and burn, so the institutions on the planets were still functioning normally. They could pick any planet and re-take their marriage registration photo.

Still, they had to clear the place beforehand. Xi Ming couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be someone mad with hatred trying to assassinate him.

Without delay, Xi Ming led a combat team to the nearest residential planet that same day and cleared out the largest marriage registration office on the planet.

When Shi Chan and Xi Ming walked in, the only staff member left was already pale with fright but still forced a stiff smile as she provided service.
“Hello, how can I help you today?”

“Re-taking a marriage registration photo,” Xi Ming said simply. If it wasn’t a step that required staff certification, he probably wouldn’t even have kept her—he’d have had the whole process handled by his own people.

“Alright. Please provide your ID numbers.” The staff member was speaking almost on instinct, her voice trembling. At the same time, her mind was racing—Xi Ming! It’s that Xi Ming!

Though she’d known for a while that the planet had been “taken over” by star pirates, she’d stayed because she simply couldn’t afford to move to another planet. Luckily, these pirates had been focusing their energy on the Federation and the Empire, so people like her still lived life as usual.

It was only a few days ago that they’d learned from the StarNet that the leader of the Stellar Organization was actually Xi Ming—the very Xi Ming at the heart of the 823 incident, the crippled man tortured by cosmic radiation, notorious for being cruel and sinister!

She’d just been scrolling through articles about Xi Ming on StarNet when, in the next second, the place where she worked was surrounded by star pirates.

And now Xi Ming was here with his omega to re-take their marriage registration photo.

Just moments earlier, she’d seen gossip online about Xi Ming mistreating and neglecting his omega. Who knew how much the omega had suffered?

Thinking this, the staff member snuck a glance at the person beside Xi Ming, intending to offer a sympathetic look—only for her eyes to stop obeying the moment they landed on Shi Chan.

Her mind went blank. She swallowed instinctively.
Was such a stunning omega even real?!

The sound of Xi Ming tapping the table snapped her out of it. She flinched and reluctantly looked away, mustering the courage to say,
“…Sir, the photo-taking for marriage registration is done upstairs. It’s usually handled by my colleague.”

Now that she was the only one left in the office, and her photography skills were mediocre at best, the fear of upsetting the pirates calmed her down.

Fortunately, there were a few capable people among the pirates. One had volunteered to take the photo, claiming he could do it well. Since the original staff were still locked outside, Xi Ming allowed the volunteer to tag along.

“Look here… good… Boss, move a little closer to Sister-in-law…”
The pirate who had dared to recommend himself really did have talent. Even though it was just a standard, stiff photo with no poses allowed, he managed to perfectly capture both of their features and the “destined connection” between them.

Anyone who saw that photo would involuntarily think: what a match made in heaven.
(Well, except for those intentionally closing their eyes and spouting nonsense.)

No matter how much the imperial royal family tried to slander Xi Ming’s name, to the mainframe of StarNet, he was still a law-abiding imperial citizen. After going through the formal procedures at the registration office, their photo was approved within the hour.

Shi Chan opened his terminal and pulled up his marital status to see the freshly issued photo.

As he stared at it, a smile slowly bloomed in his eyes.

They had their marriage photo now, but they had never even held a proper wedding ceremony. Xi Ming didn’t mention it, and Shi Chan didn’t press either. It was the height of wartime, and Xi Ming barely had a moment to rest. Even today’s photo appointment came only after he pushed back two scheduled meetings.

After the star pirates left, the original staff began trickling back in. Seeing that the “lucky one” left behind wasn’t missing any limbs, they first sighed in relief, then crowded around to ask for all the details.

“What? Xi Ming’s omega is really that beautiful?”
The staff surrounded the beta woman in astonishment, eager to see the photo for themselves.

While marriage offices weren’t allowed to leak citizen info, checking it internally wasn’t an issue.

A group of people pulled up Xi Ming’s marriage record and zoomed in on the photo. The room fell silent.

After a long while, someone finally murmured in awe,
“…So beautiful.”

How could such a stunning omega end up being matched to Xi Ming?! Were all the alphas on the capital star blind back then?

After returning, Xi Ming continued with his work while Shi chan went to meet up with his idle friend again. The two of them started brainstorming how to take revenge on the keyboard warriors of the star network.

Ever since Lan Ying heard Shi Chan mention that “backlash technique,” he’d been like a loyal puppy, sticking close to Shi chan’s side with eyes full of anticipation.

He kept muttering non-stop, “It’s so great that there’s finally a way to deal with them! You have no idea how much those people spouting nonsense online have annoyed me. A few years ago, my senior got divorced—clearly it was her ex-husband’s fault—but people online kept insisting it had to be her. First, they accused her of cheating, then they said she planned it all in advance for publicity. It’s like they had no brains! I was so pissed off. And remember that small celebrity, XX? That was also—”

Shi Chan hadn’t realized Lan Ying had been tormented by net trolls for so many years, nor that he knew of so many “injustices.” But as a friend, what he should do was obvious—criticize those keyboard warriors right alongside Lan Ying.

Sure enough, after venting for a while, Lan Ying gradually calmed down, gulping down two big glasses of water before regaining his breath.

When it came to their plan, Lan Ying suddenly became a little hesitant. “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t post your photo after all.”

“What’s wrong?” Their original plan was to leverage Shi chan’s appearance to create a public stir. Before Xi Ming released the truth, Shi Chan would publicly appear at his side and express his belief in Xi Ming, thereby backlashing against all the malicious rumors.

Lan Ying fidgeted awkwardly and slowly said, “I mean, I did want to show off how good-looking my friend is, but… but… you said before that people’s thoughts are always changing, and now I suddenly don’t want to give them the satisfaction. Chanchan is so good-looking—why should we let them see him?”

In reality, this shift in attitude came after Lan Ying had a conversation with Chi Wenyu.

Chi Wenyu had been active in the business world for years and had seen all kinds of people. He knew very well about the dark side of human nature. While omegas might be praised on the surface of the star network, the vile things said in the shadows were disgusting beyond belief. In places where regulation was weak, omegas who revealed their appearance online had even been kidnapped. The lucky ones became some rich person’s private possession, while the unlucky ones were abused by many, and videos of them circulated on the dark web.

In the past, Shi Chan had never enabled public access to his image rights, which disappointed many alphas who had seen his face. But in truth, most omegas from elite families restricted access to their portraits. Even if they didn’t go as far as Shi Chan in completely blocking them, they never allowed their photos to be widely spread.

Chi Wenyu merely gave Lan Ying a few examples, but that was enough to terrify him. Having always lived under the protection of family and loved ones, Lan Ying never knew how dangerous it was for omegas outside Capital Star. He thought all omegas were loved and cared for just like those in the capital.

After hearing those cases, Lan Ying didn’t know how to explain it to the “pure and flawless” Shi Chan in his heart.

But Lan Ying’s acting was terrible. Under Shi Chan’s persistent questioning, he ended up spilling everything.

Shi Chan was clearly stunned.

“So let’s not make them public,” Lan Ying said, pulling at Shi Chan gloomily. “You’re so beautiful—let’s keep that just for ourselves.”

The childish words made Shi Chan laugh and cry at the same time. He reached out and ruffled Lan Ying’s hair. “Alright, I’ll think about it when I get back.”

“Yes, yes! You need to think about it carefully—and don’t decide this alone! You have to talk to your alpha. I’m sure he’d disagree too.” Lan Ying nodded furiously. He absolutely didn’t want Shi Chan to suffer. Even if no one dared to kidnap him, just imagining what people might think or do after getting a photo of Shi Chan made Lan Ying feel sick.

Shi Chan nodded. Of course he’d discuss it with Xi Ming.

With the capabilities of the star network’s central AI, even if it couldn’t regulate all parts of the dark web (since such places were often dominated by tech elites), it should at least be able to monitor regular netizens’ behavior, right?

Shi Chan never paid much attention to tech issues before, so trying to figure it out now left him confused. But that was okay—he had Xi Ming. Whatever he didn’t understand, he could just ask him.

And so, when Xi Ming returned that night, he was greeted by a beautiful omega full of curiosity.

Even though they had been together for quite some time, there was no trace of the so-called “emotions turning into familial affection” like the rumors online claimed. If anything, their hearts still fluttered just as strongly. For example, right now, looking into his omega’s sparkling eyes, Xi Ming felt his whole body heat up.

He pulled Shi Chan into his arms, holding him tightly, feeling him close, and after a deep kiss full of passion and love, Xi Ming finally asked, “Why are you suddenly asking about this? The central AI of the star network can indeed monitor most online content, but… when it was first activated, it was too by-the-book. On its very first day, it flagged violations across the entire star network. The alarms never stopped. And the worst offenders? They were the aristocrats of various planets—some even from the imperial family. So…”

This happened shortly after the planetary networks were merged into a multi-planet interstellar network. Because of that incident, the ruling royals at the time immediately ordered that most of the AI’s monitoring capabilities be restricted. Of course, these restrictions were for the public. The royals, who held the AI’s permissions, could still access protected “private” data when necessary.

But since it wasn’t just royals who experienced that mess, the original directives given to the AI weren’t fully in the royals’ favor. They couldn’t freely pry into the “privacy” of all the major families. Activating such functions required fulfilling many conditions.

Shi Chan now understood: the AI wasn’t incapable, but rather, humanity had decided it “didn’t need” that functionality. Unfortunately, this so-called “privacy protection” only emboldened the rats in the gutters—while many ordinary people became their punching bags.

“Brother Ming, about that plan I mentioned earlier…”

As Shi Chan spoke, Xi Ming’s expression grew darker. He had known that online rumors were often baseless and that some people exploited loopholes in the AI to create black markets, but he’d always focused on battlefields and military tactics before his injury. And afterward, his attention was on tracking the movements of various powers—he never gave much thought to the filth and evil Shi Chan had described.

“This is my oversight,” Xi Ming apologized to Shi Chan. He knew Shi Chan’s strength—he wasn’t a typical omega. So when he’d first heard the plan, he hadn’t investigated thoroughly or thought it through. They had almost taken a huge loss.

“Let’s not reveal your photos for now. First, let’s test whether that backlash technique can be triggered with psychic powers instead of spiritual energy.”
If it could—then Xi Ming would handle the backlash himself.