Chapter 09
Owen looked up sharply at these words, his eyes shining with an incredible brightness: “Iâll take that as if you only said it to me, and Iâll keep it a secret.”
“As you wish.”
Little Stu, held in Owen’s arms, looked back and forth between his uncle and the “doctor brother” opposite him, confused. Their atmosphere felt like that of a warm, happy family.
Owen walked him downstairs and stopped not far from the research instituteâs shuttle. After saying goodbye, Ming Shiyu had just turned and taken a single step when he was caught by the wrist and pulled back by Owen.
This time, Owen didnât let go. Instead, he took the opportunity to pull him into his arms and hold him tightly. He leaned down, resting his chin on Ming Shiyuâs shoulder, and whispered in his ear: “A farewell hugâthe one I didn’t get at the opening ceremony back then.”
After he let go, Ming Shiyu walked toward the shuttle. Owen, however, looked thoughtfully at the opaque windows; ever since they came downstairs, he had felt a gaze filled with intense hostility, staring fixedly at themâor rather, specifically at him.
Ming Shiyu pushed open the door to the passenger cabin, and the chaotic scene inside froze instantly.
A group of honest, hardworking researchers were suddenly busy tidying up their equipment and data, pretending they had serious work to attend to, acting as if they hadn’t just been pressed against the window eavesdropping on the two of them saying goodbye.
Chapter 8: The Estate
Little Guan, the robot, sat alone in the back row. Its telescopic arm stretched to its limit, pinning the poor assistant Lu Fang against the wall farthest away, unable to move.
Hearing the automatic door open and close, Lu Fang struggled to turn his head and complain: “Teacher, save me! Little Guan has come down with ‘mad robot disease’.”
When he had been peeking out the window at his teacher, he had merely exclaimed excitedly that “Teacher and the young master are truly a perfect match,” only for Little Guan to fly into a rage and pin him to the wall with a claw.
Lu Fang muttered to himself, Councilor Masonâs custom-made robot is really protective. Knowing that Teacher is thinking about a second marriage, it hasn’t left his side, following him even when he goes out. I should have ordered a ‘pre-cheating’ robot for Teacher and strapped it to the Councilor’s waist. Every time he got close to that rumored Colonel Lin Lin, it would manually extend a mechanical arm to create some distance. Hmph.
The moment Ming Shiyu looked his way, Little Guanâor rather, Masonâfelt guilty, as if heâd been caught doing something wrong. He released Lu Fang and retracted the telescopic arm. The little assistant plopped onto the floor but stood up with a smug look on his face.
Ming Shiyu found an empty seat at random and closed his eyes to rest. Dealing with so many people drained his positive energy, especially after having to handle such a heavyweight guest.
Two years had passed. Would Owen be a suitable partner? And what about himself? Having gone through one marriage so hastily, did he even know what he needed?
…At least he could be sure of one thing: he needed someone to accompany him.
If it turned out that Owen was truly the most suitable person for himâafter all, he really did seem to like himâthen what did these past two years of unbearable loneliness amount to?
He frowned slightly, feeling as uncomfortable as if he were having a nightmare in the clear light of day. The researchers on the shuttle moved quietly, not wanting to disturb his rest.
Ming Shiyu felt a weight on his lower leg; it was the little robot leaning tightly against him. Recently, Mason had been very fond of this gesture. He opened his eyes slightly and glanced at Mason, asking with a gloating tone: “What’s the matter, Little Guan? You’ve been making trouble all day, and you still have that aggrieved look. Who bullied you?”
Little Guan said coquettishly: “Master… I don’t like that Owen.”
[Wife…]
[Is Owen acting in an idol drama? He started seducing my wife while the rest of us were standing right there. And what is he wearing? Why does that formal suit look so much like the one I wore at our engagement banquet? Is he a copycat? When I return from the dead, Iâm going to grab the lead designer by the collar and ask him exactly how much Owen paid him.]
[How much money did he give you, you jerk who ruins other people’s family happiness!]
[Two years have passed and Owen still hasn’t given up? My body isn’t even cold yet and this little brat is already in such a hurry to poach my wife. If Iâd known, I would have dragged out that mining star development proposal for ten days or a fortnight just for him.]
Masonâs psychic energy was filled with resentment: [Why does that traitorous snitch Lu Fang have control permissions over Little Guan? Does Shiyu trust him that much?]
Ming Shiyu understood this part. No wonder Mason had suddenly gone quiet; he had been physically suppressed by Lu Fang.
Hell, Ming Shiyu thought, resting his forehead in his hand, amused. Heâs so funny. How does he manage to convey a sobbing tone through psychic energy?
The exhausted researchers on the shuttle were dozing off in the lounge, leaving only Ming Shiyu and his robot in the passenger area.
Just a moment ago, Lu Fang had puffed out his stingy, baby-faced cheeks, shouting for Ming Shiyu to seek justice for him: “Councilor Masonâs robot actually dared to bully me! Hmph!”
Who did it think it was? He was Teacher Ming’s number one henchman. That little thing was just Masonâs “dowry maid.”
Ming Shiyu had mischievously reached out, pulled the robotâs two telescopic arms, and tied them into an awkward, stiff knot. The robotâs face remained expressionless, even transforming the arms into soft materials to make it easier for him to mess with, like a miserable little punching bag.
The black-haired, pale-skinned researcher squatted slightly, face-to-face with the robot, and mocked: “You look so silly.”
Mason: [You are so beautiful.]
[Very well, even that little assistant Lu Fang is riding on my head now. Iâm marking this debt down, along with that designer who defected to make clothes for Owen.]
Before the shuttle reached home, Ming Shiyu keenly sensed that Masonâs psychic signature had suddenly vanished. This was the first time Mason had detached his consciousness from the robot during the day while they were out.
Ming Shiyu raised an eyebrow: Is he angry? However, he didnât take it to heart and picked up his data pad to continue sketching.
According to his observations, Mason was privately using the death of the “refined and noble” Councilor to stir up trouble, taking advantage of the situation to clear out political enemies. Usually, he would leave the robot’s bodyâespecially when doing choresâspecifically the delicate work of maintaining the precise pleats on the curtains to show a butler’s professionalism; he would let Little Guan take over.
He was obsessed with things like drawing his bath, preparing his pajamas, and picking out his outfits.
Ming Shiyu was curious, but was clearing out political enemies really worth faking one’s own death? Political power transitions are always a matter of total eradication; political status and influence are things that become impossible to recover once they’ve stagnated for even a moment. Furthermore, Mason didn’t even have his position anymore; the acting Councilor had already taken office.
What was Mason actually planning?
When Little Guan regained control, it tilted its head and blinked, confused by the ridiculous state of its mechanical body.
Over at Lin Linâs house.
The handsome man, who was forced to squeeze his tall frame into an undersized chair, looked a bit awkward. Suddenly, his narrow, fox-like eyes snapped open. He stood up and raked his hand through his slightly curly hair; his brilliant blonde hair scattered like sunlight against his brow, instantly sweeping away the gloom on his face.
It was none other than the famous Councilor Mason!
Still cursing Owen in his heart, he deftly removed the psychic transfer device from his wrist to avoid any accidental triggersâthis thing was a “three-no” product still in the experimental stage; he hadn’t even had time to finish the adaptation tuning.
Thatâs right, it was a high-end toy heâd “stolen” from his wife Ming Shiyuâs laboratory. Its function was to allow psychic possession of a robot. It was an essential tool for “stealing the beauty and the goods,” and it hadn’t even hit the market yet.
Lin Lin, watching from the side, couldn’t stand it anymore. He rudely jammed a hat equipped with a visual camouflage device onto Masonâs handsome face: “Damn it, brother, speed it up, will you? Stop trying to look cool!” Ming Shiyu isn’t even here; who are you posing for?
The moment the special disguise hat touched Masonâs hair, his appearance changed from head to toe. His silky blonde hair turned into coarse, black, curly fuzz, and his luxurious silk shirt and trousers became a simple t-shirt and jeans. Even his height dropped by several centimeters.
Mason instantly transformed from a noble and elegant high-ranking official into a common blue-collar worker trying to make a living on the Capital Planet.
“The Emperorâs honor guard is already at the door. My house is less than two hundred square meters; itâll only take them a few minutes to trample it. Get the hell out of here. If you dare say one more bad word about how small my house is, don’t expect me to be your wifeâs free bodyguard next time.”
Judging by the punchable look on Masonâs face, he was clearly struggling to swallow that remark.
Mason picked up a small maintenance toolbox, strode out the front door of Lin Linâs house, and left in broad daylight.
The Emperor had come for a sudden visit, supposedly to offer condolences to Colonel Lin Lin, who had narrowly escaped death during the star pirate incident.
Mason sneered. An honor guard? Itâs a formal military unit coming to arrest me.
That old man didn’t believe for a second that he had died so easily. It was just that the Emperor wanted to strike a blow to the Councilâs momentum, and they still had loopholes to exploitâafter all, under his management, the Council was crushing the Cabinet in terms of both public support and administrative authority.
However, neither the Crown Prince nor he needed the Emperor to believe he was dead.
Mason strolled past the Emperorâs honor guard. He didn’t even slow his pace when he was closest to the Emperor; he merely gave a perfunctory, standard-level salute with his right palm facing up over his heart. Compared to the solemn honor guard and protocol department, it looked incredibly provocative.
The Emperor frowned and looked away; such behavior that angered the royal family actually served to lessen his suspicion.
The reason for this was that the Huaxia Alliance was too far away from the center of imperial power. On one hand, the “emperor is far away” attitude brought with it a natural disdain for imperial authority. On the other hand, in a system where the Alliance had the most perfect psychic rights, their citizens didn’t even fear the noble class.
Therefore, such a perfunctory, even provocative gesture seemed perfectly reasonable, and it would make the officials want to look away and speed up his departure, just to avoid offending a superior.
Mason lowered his head and chuckled. As expected of Shiyuâs hometown; just as stubbornly cute as he is.
He hopped onto the shuttle prepared by the Crown Prince, traveled light, and smoothly merged into the heavy traffic of the Capital Planet. The shipâs top-tier military-grade camouflage coating misled the Imperial satellite tracking system, cleverly shifting its signature onto a similar, mundane household shuttleâa perfect “swap” that shed the satellite lock.

