After the fleet entered a stable flight trajectory, Fu Linyuan left the central control room.

However, perhaps due to the unexpected interruption from the advertisement earlier, it took more than ten full seconds after the Marshal left before someone beside the conference table finally moved their neck slightly.

Duke, sitting on the left of the head seat: “…”

Sighing, he tapped the table. “…If you have questions, just ask.”

The conference table erupted instantly.

“What the hell was that just now?”

“Duke, what do you know? Spill it, quick!”

“Who’s the person involved? Do we know them? Someone from the corps?”

“How old are they? What do their parents do? Don’t tell me it’s one of those ministers’ daughters?”

“When did they have a kid? The secrecy is impressive… Who wouldn’t say badass after seeing that?”

“…Stop stop stop—” Duke was stunned by the flood of questions thrown at him. He had to raise his hand for silence and raise his voice to drown out the chatter. “I said one question. No more.”

The table went quiet for a second.

Then, in perfect unison, all the officers asked, “—When did this happen?”

Among them were more than a few fathers who had married early. Parenting Guide 101 was practically required reading for all first-time dads. For something like that to appear on the Marshal’s smart assistant…

Naturally, they all looked toward Duke, who usually had the most contact with the Marshal.

Duke: “…”

He knew the officers were probably misunderstanding something.

He also knew his boss was probably reading that kind of stuff because of that mermaid who looked very much like a child.

But putting these two things together… he genuinely didn’t know how to explain.

After thinking it over, Duke said, “It was something that happened after the last mission.”

There was no helping it. Even with a toe, you could figure out how much commotion that rare mermaid would cause. Yu Bai’s identity absolutely had to be kept secret. As for the officers’ misunderstanding…

Duke hesitated for half a second, silently apologized to his boss, and then continued with a serious face, “That’s all I know, but yeah, it’s something recent. You all know the Marshal doesn’t like to talk about his private life, so seriously—don’t tell anyone I was the source.”

As soon as he said that, the table fell silent for a few more seconds. Then several officers exchanged glances and saw the exact same “juicy gossip” expression on each other’s faces.

Holy hell—turns out the Marshal, who never showed any interest in men or women, wasn’t romantically in love with mechas!

He’d quietly pulled off something big!

Even had a child already!

They then very tacitly mimed zipping their lips, and didn’t ask any further questions.

Sometimes, the best way to hide information… is to bury the truth in a sea of misleading assumptions.

And since Duke was confident that no one would dare ask the Marshal about it directly, he dared to toss out a half-truth, half-lie.

…Anyway, his boss would never find out about this.

That’s what Duke thought.

It was all for the sake of secrecy.

…

Elsewhere, Fu Linyuan had absolutely no idea that, within the span of just thirty minutes, he had already been successfully labeled as secretly married and raising a child.

In the corridor, his steps carried a hint of barely perceptible urgency.

…Yu Bai didn’t seem to like loud noises.

Although the lounge was very well soundproofed, the noise during the starship’s engine ignition might still have been quite loud.

But when he returned to the lounge, he found that his worry had been unnecessary.

—Yu Bai was lying on the desk, sleeping soundly.

He must’ve been writing something before he fell asleep, because he was still clutching a pen tightly in his hand. Fu Linyuan walked over to check and saw a handwriting practice book spread open on the desk.

It was homework Huo Si had left for Yu Bai.

He must have fallen asleep midway through writing; there was a line running across the page, cutting through the characters.

Fu Linyuan stared at that line for a few seconds, then looked around the room.

It was obvious the small room had been tidied thoroughly: two pillows neatly covered with patterned cases, the once-ajar wardrobe now visibly packed with clothes, and by the bathroom door, two pairs of identical slippers were arranged side by side.

…He really picked up human habits fast.

With that thought, Fu Linyuan walked to the wardrobe, straightened the hangers inside a bit so the door could close properly, then returned to the desk. He gently pulled the pen from Yu Bai’s hand, capped it, and set it aside.

Just as he was about to lift the sleeping boy from the chair and move him to the bed, his wrist terminal suddenly vibrated.

He lowered his eyes to glance at the caller ID. The man paused briefly, picked up the thin blanket beside him and draped it over Yu Bai’s shoulders before stepping outside the lounge to take the call.

“Linyuan, is this a good time to talk?”

“Professor Xu,” There was no one else outside the lounge at the moment. Fu Linyuan pressed the button for an encrypted call and replied, “It is.”

On the other end, Xu Yiming glanced at the report in his hand and got straight to the point: “I contacted you in such a hurry because there are two things I need to discuss.”

“First, your test results are out… Did you sneak anything before the checkup?”

Fu Linyuan paused. “…Why do you ask?”

Xu Yiming stroked his beard, his tone less than pleased: “During your last routine check, your mental power index was still at fifty-five. How did it suddenly rise to fifty-seven after just one exercise and one mission?”

The mental power index is a metric for measuring mental stability. The highest possible score is 120, the lowest is 0, and a passing score is 70.

A perfect score indicates completely stable mental power, and the lower the score, the less stable the mental state.

Ordinary people usually hover between 90 and 100. Military personnel, due to the frequent use of mechas and greater mental strain, tend to average between 80 and 90.

At 65, a person is approaching a mental storm.

At 55, a mental storm is triggered.

At 50, the mental sea reaches the brink of collapse.

So far, within the Aon Empire’s medical records, no one has ever survived a complete collapse of the mental sea.

Fu Linyuan’s score had remained at 55.4 ever since the day of his mental awakening in his youth. Over the course of more than ten years, it had never changed.

Until the last checkup.

No wonder Xu Yiming’s tone was grim.

Some prohibited drugs can temporarily boost mental stability, artificially inflating the index.

But these drugs come with a fatal flaw: after the brief increase, mental stability plummets drastically.

Not worth the risk.

That’s why Xu Yiming was vaguely angry.

If it was just to pass a checkup, Fu Linyuan had absolutely no reason to resort to such measures.

Fu Linyuan also understood the reason for the professor’s concern.

But he truly hadn’t done what Xu Yiming suspected, so he calmly explained, “Rest assured, I didn’t use any substances before the test.”

As for why the index suddenly rose after so many years…

Fu Linyuan was a bit surprised himself.

Something seemed to flash across his mind.

But before he could catch the thought, Xu Yiming interrupted him: “Really?”

Fu Linyuan: “…Yes.”

Xu Yiming calmed down. Fu Linyuan was the son of an old friend—he knew the young man’s temperament well and believed he wouldn’t do something so foolish.

Still, the sudden spike in the mental power index had shocked him so much that he couldn’t help but call immediately.

Clearing his throat, Xu Yiming’s tone softened considerably: “…Now onto the second matter. I heard from Duke that you brought the sea—brought Yu Bai along on this patrol?”

Fu Linyuan hummed in affirmation.

After a moment, he added, “Have Yu Bai’s test results come back?”

Xu Yiming didn’t answer immediately. There was a short pause, followed by the sound of keyboard clacking coming through the receiver.

“…The results did come back, but a few of the indicators are a bit unusual,” Professor Xu said while typing. “Let me ask first: during your time with him, have you felt any distinct mental fluctuations from him?”

Fu Linyuan thought for a moment. “Occasionally.”

There had only been a few rare times when he’d sensed an almost imperceptible trace of mental energy silently sweeping through the air.

As if searching for something.

Shortly afterward, Yu Bai would appear nearby.

“Sss…” Xu Yiming paused his typing. “Are you sure?”

Fu Linyuan recalled carefully once again.

Those few times did seem to happen when Yu Bai was looking for him.

Sometimes in the living room, sometimes in the study.

“I’m sure.”

Xu Yiming asked again: “And does he show any signs of pain when using mental power?”

Fu Linyuan recalled Yu Bai’s appearance after finding him each time. “…It didn’t seem like it.”

The little mermaid was very afraid of pain.

If he’d truly felt pain, he probably wouldn’t have been able to hide it completely—it would’ve shown.

“…Then that’s really odd.”

Xu Yiming stroked his beard and looked at the test report in front of him, lowering his voice.

“Based on previous behavioral observations at the research institute, while his actions and speech indicated he wasn’t human, his overall emotional state was very calm. There were no significant mental fluctuations, and no other known symptoms of mental storms.”

Fu Linyuan unconsciously gripped the terminal a bit tighter and glanced toward the closed lounge door.

Xu Yiming paused before continuing, “And based on your description, he doesn’t feel pain when using his mental power…”

“Yes, he’s seemed completely normal lately.” Fu Linyuan exhaled, furrowing his brow slightly. He finally couldn’t hold back and interrupted the older man’s explanation. “…Is there a problem with the test results?”

“There is,” Xu Yiming hissed again. “And it’s not a small one…”

Fu Linyuan: “…”

Xu Yiming deliberately lowered his voice again, as if afraid someone might overhear what he was about to say: “I’m not sure if it was an issue during the testing process, or if something went wrong during the analysis. In any case…”

“I detected a large amount of M S A residue in Yu Bai’s blood.”

The old man’s voice became slightly distorted through the signal transmission.

“With such a high proportion of residue, even if he is of the sea, his mental sea should have already collapsed.”