Chapter 04
…Thus, he laid bare the studentâs secret feelings for him.
“Iâm sorry, Dean, I didn’t mean to…” The boyâs face turned bright red instantly, stammering and wishing he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.
Having a secret crush on the unattainable Dean/Professor and then being exposed by the man himselfâMei Sen suspected this would become the boyâs lifelong dark history, and he would never dare appear before his crush again.
Ming Shiyu put down the transfer application and said straightforwardly, “If you want to abandon your Mental Mechanics major because of your own stupidity, I can sign ‘Approved’ on this application right now. But if itâs because of something as trivial as ‘feelings,’ go back and write a 20,000-word reflection paper and submit it next Monday.”
“Oh, by the way, just send it to the Vice Dean. I haven’t finished my marriage leave yet.”
He added coldly, thenâto the shock of Mei Sen, who was left numbâhe swept the boy out the door, showing absolutely no human warmth.
At the time, Mei Sen still wore his imperturbable social mask, but his heart had been struck by the sheer, naive innocence hidden beneath that set of actions.
What was annoying, however, was that he clearly wasn’t the only one whose heart was struck. That boy was still thriving in the Mental Mechanics major… and recently, Mei Sen had even seen his name on the resume list for Ming Shiyuâs student assistant positions.
Ahem, back to the funeral.
In other words, Mei Sen could be certain that if Ming Shiyu, after painstaking efforts to organize this memorial and genuinely grieving for his “cheap” husband, discovered that the wretched Mei Sen was actually still alive, while he might not expose him on the spot, he would definitely not cover for him either.
It was thanks to his own caution that he had managed to control this for so long. It was all because Ming Shiyuâs high-level mental talent was too deeply ingrained in peopleâs mindsâan X-level rating that no one had yet to reach.
Apart from Ming Shiyu himself, no one knew to what extent he could control his mental power, or if he could even perceive the dissipated mental power of others. He had never revealed the bottom line, which left Mei Sen not even daring to probe slightly.
Before Mei Sen could feel proud enough, he saw the Emperor reach his hand toward Ming Shiyuâs face.
Lin Linâs voice waves came through the home robotâs hidden receiver: “Whatâs going on? The index is flashing red across the board. The engineers told you to control your emotional fluctuations; the robotâs default data threshold canât handle your toss-ups.”
“Also, the Crown Prince said to try not to attract the Emperorâs attention. His attitude is ambiguous; he doesn’t seem to believe youâre actually dead.”
Mei Sen Robot: Too late.
He controlled the little robot simply by using his mental power to issue commands and connecting to its sensory systems. He struggled to retract the wheels, silently adjusting himself to a stable magnetic levitation state.
The small robot raised its mechanical arm, which was equipped with a particle cannon. While making a confusing, casual movement to adjust the room temperature system, it exerted full powerâlike a bowstring pulled into a full moonâvibrating slightly as it prepared to strike, ready to send a soul-destroying blast into the Emperor!
Mei Sen was particularly good at manipulating progressive shifts in power and greatly admired the art of Go from the Huaxia Alliance.
His electronic eyes contracted into a sniper scope, locking onto the Emperor.
However… the medium of politics is always people. A simple, brutal shot to kill the opponent’s chess player would be a win.
It was just that the Crown Prince, who would have to clean up the mess, might find it a bit “fucked up.”
Mei Sen had incited the Crown Prince to do this before, but for some reason, he had never agreed. Now that he had been dragged into the water by the Prince, losing his noble status, killing the Emperor had become a situation of all harm and no benefit to him.
However, no one could insult Ming Shiyu in front of himâdid they really think he was dead?
His mind raced. When he had considered installing a weapons system on Ming Shiyuâs robot, he had decided to use equipment produced by the Royal Family. In a flash of insight, he had it: just recently, the Emperor had purchased the authorization for Shiyuâs mental control technology through his loverâs family company. He would frame it on that troublesome lady, letting them fight each other like dogs.
Click. The particle round was in position.
Just a second before Mei Senâs mechanical body almost emitted the hum of active operation, the Emperor pulled his hand back, spoke a few words to Ming Shiyu, and left the venue with his guards.
Mei Sen put down the cannonball, disgruntled: …He got lucky.
The red-haired noble was still his usual fearless self. He rolled his eyes at the Emperorâs departing back, grabbed a random person nearby, and complained:
“Our Emperorâs power is becoming more and more inflated. Heâs gone crazy; he almost molested the late Council Presidentâs partner at his funeral.”
He should let his poker-faced secretary see thisâthis is what you call a real “Cao Zei” (a homewrecker).
The person he had forced into the conversation happened to be the Cabinet Secretary of State, commonly known as the Emperorâs lackey: You can say that, but I might lose my life if I answer.
With cold sweat dripping down his forehead, he laughed and said, “Sir is joking. His Majesty is truly as loving toward his people as a father, and his demeanor is kind.”
The noble rolled his eyes at him again, left a “Sycophant,” and walked away elegantly.
Secretary: …
With the Emperorâs departure, the oppressive air in the hall finally returned to normal.
The ladies of the Green family, their maternal instincts overflowing, immediately surrounded Ming Shiyu until he was completely blocked off. Mei Senâs small mechanical body couldn’t even squeeze in.
A young lady even secretly pinned a white Efron into his hair, not caring at all that this was the funeral for their Green familyâs most promising descendant, treating it like a game of playing house with a doll.
While Mei Sen was busy adjusting his caterpillar wheels, he didn’t notice that as soon as the Emperor left his line of sight, Ming Shiyu looked up in his direction.
There was no expression on his face, but those pitch-black, calm eyes seemed to see through the layers of people to the small robotâs true self.
Mei Sen suddenly remembered something. He tilted his square head and, at lightning speed, dodged through the crowd toward the lounge.
In the few seconds before crashing into the sofa, he had already carefully selected the softest pink throw pillow, clamped it in his mouth, tossed it onto his back, and then performed a nimble turn, accelerating at full speed back toward Ming Shiyu.
By the time he finally got the kind ladies to make way for him by showing off the “Mei Sen Family” nameplate on his tin shell, he finally approached Ming Shiyu, and the fierce, racing spirit he had just felt suddenly vanished.
Mei Sen rolled up to him timidly, tilting his head to gesture to the sofa pillow on his back.
Mei Sen couldn’t decide whether he would actually be willing to use it. His wife had a bad temper and his own set of picky standards. Even though he had been kneeling on the floor for so long, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t vent on a poor, innocent robot.
The display screen on the robotâs face flashed a fawning wavy line: [Please, just make do with it. This is the best pillow already.]
Ming Shiyu glanced at him. After a long while, he pursed his lips and used his arms to support himself on the carpet, rising slightly to let the little robot tuck the pillow under his knees.
Is he… acting coquettishly toward me?
The little robot didn’t know which “cute point” had been hit, but it rolled its wheels around in a daze.
So much so that it didn’t notice how much subjective consciousness was in that one look Ming Shiyu gave himâso abrupt in the interstellar era where everyone treated robots as convenient tools, it was almost like showing his hand that his disguise was blown.
Seeing his own robot reacting like it had lost its mind, Ming Shiyu sighed. If he wasn’t mistaken, Mei Senâs persona in front of him had always been that of a natural politician who was extremely good at reading the room.
The memorial ceremony drew to a close. Most of the busy Green family members had left, leaving only the true hosts behind.
The knee-high robot went back to the side to stand by, honestly retracting its wheels and telescopic arms, though it was secretly peeking at him from afar.
To others, Ming Shiyu looked the same as at the beginning, but only Mei Sen, who was overly focused on him, could see that he was struggling with something intensely, his eyes blinking much faster than usual.
If at the beginning, Ming Shiyuâs sadness was limited to the grief of losing a husband he wasn’t deeply attached to, now his emotions could be described as bitter indignation.
Mei Sen often couldn’t read his poker face. From the Emperorâs visit to him accepting the pillow, what had happened in between?
Stop clenching your palms, who hurt you? Since the wedding, he hadn’t dared to get too close to Ming Shiyu, always making excuses about being busy with work, playing the role of a standard model husband, and even splashing dirty water on himself and Lin Lin during the space pirate incident, just to avoid seeing him like this.
Ming Shiyu sat alone on the seat that the Protocol Department had belatedly brought for him, his eyes like an ancient well with no ripples.
Mei Sen, you dare to play me.
Suddenly, a bouquet of tied Efrons appeared in his line of sight, joyfully leaning toward him, and was even shaken and rattled by a telescopic armâthe intent to coax him into a good mood was clumsy and obvious. Behind the bouquet, a pair of robot eyes peeked out.
Ming Shiyu frowned hesitantly, and the Mei Sen robotâs face rippled with expectant waves.
Unexpectedly, Ming Shiyuâs mood visibly worsened. He didn’t take the flowers and immediately stood up to leave. As he stood, he was so agitated that he staggered, nearly falling, and was only steadied by the robot holding his waist and hips.
The little robot stumbled to keep up: “Master, wait for Xiao Guan!”
Author’s Note:
Chapter 4: Childhood Sweetheart
As the butler-type robot specially made for him after the wedding, Xiao Guan followed him onto the aircraft with perfect justification, still carrying that bunch of flowers in its mouth.
[It doesnât matter. Itâs Xiao Guan that Shiyu is rejecting, not me, Mei Sen Green. When I was courting him, he would accept the Efrons I gave him with a smile. My wife is a dignified and pure-hearted good boy; he only accepts flowers from handsome guys he likes.]
Ming Shiyuâs footsteps paused, and the distracted robot didn’t brake in time and plop, hugged his calf.
His pitch-black eyes glanced at the robot that had popped up by his feet. Xiao Guan was painted in a black-and-white suit style, with a small pink bowtie tied around its neck. Who would have thought that beneath thisæšæ ćŻæŹ (cute and naive) appearance was the legendary, insidious, and cunning Council President Mei Sen?
When mental power was attached to an external object, Mei Senâs emotions would fluctuate, and he would be unable to stop his mental power from leaking. The murmurs in his mind were laid bare before Ming Shiyu.
