MFDSSR 05

Chapter 05

That’s certainly interesting, Ming Shiyu thought.

On the way from the aircraft to their home, Ming Shiyu didn’t say a word. Upon entering, he sat on the sofa, his long legs elegantly crossed, forming a beautiful curve from his calves to his toes. However, the mood represented by this posture was not very pleasant.

From the moment they stepped inside, Mei Sen began performing his duties as a robot butler. He knocked open the small delivery door to place the prepared fruit platter and hot drinks in front of him. Snap! With a crisp sound of snapping fingers, a large, thick blanket descended from above.

“Mm…” Ming Shiyu was caught off guard and wrapped snugly in warmth. The chill he had brought in from outside was dispelled, effectively ruining his cold, elegant expression.

The robot’s wheels switched to a silent levitation mode. It circled gracefully in the air, and the entire house seemed to wake up in response. From the moment it “beeped” to adjust the climate control to 26.5 degrees, it began complaining, clearly enjoying itself: [Outsiders only love your youthful face and lofty learning, but only I know how hard you are to take care of. Half a degree too warm and you get restless and can’t sleep; half a degree too cold and you’re sneezing in less than five minutes. You really are high-maintenance.]

The small robot signaled the upstairs bathroom system to draw a bath, took the liberty of sprinkling flower petals inside, and the ceiling began to quietly spray essential oils, filling the room with warm, fragrant steam. It had pre-ordered dishes from a Huaxia Alliance chef, selecting sweet-and-sour options and adding a nourishing hot soup—if he ate some warm food from home, maybe he wouldn’t be so sad. The bedroom lights flickered to a warm glow. Ming Shiyu preferred soft pearl-velvet blankets, but Mei Sen had replaced them with a fluffy quilt filled with low-gravity cotton; covering up with such a quilt provided a sense of being held in an embrace.

A robot’s capabilities were limited, but he had done everything in his power to comfort him.

By the time Mei Sen was finally ready to return to Ming Shiyu to report, his mood was as smooth and flat as if it had been ironed.

During those days when he had been sabotaged and unable to return home, he had been desperate to get close to Ming Shiyu, but could only care for him through remote reports and commands as a butler robot. Ming Shiyu’s clearance was higher than his, and sometimes he would even reject the requests.

All of his thoughtfulness had been claimed by the robot. Shiyu would even affectionately call it “Xiao Guan,” and Mei Sen had been incredibly envious.

Now that he could finally arrange Ming Shiyu’s daily life with his own hands, it felt so healing. Dizzily, he thought that this was the only fringe benefit of the entire “faked death” plan.

Ming Shiyu watched him busying himself with cold eyes, the veins on his forehead slightly bulging. Just what was Mei Sen’s problem with him? All evening, he had listened to him nag about him being high-maintenance, picky, and difficult.

He changed into a more comfortable leaning position, sinking into the sofa, his long legs stretched out. He had already put away his “confession leads to leniency, resistance leads to severity” posture; after all, Mei Sen had absolutely no intention of confessing to him.

He rested his chin on his hand, which was propped on the armrest, puzzled. What exactly is Mei Sen up to?

Although Ming Shiyu never concerned himself with their political circles—save for the occasional warm meal when Mei Sen came home—he could still guess that with Mei Sen’s noble background, being the Council President—the highest office in the legislature—was no easy task. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he was the Emperor’s thorn in the side.

Has it really reached the point where he needs to fake his own death?

Although the little robot followed him like a shadow, radiating the scent of Mei Sen that he couldn’t ignore, it remained single-mindedly focused on playing the part of a qualified home butler. It had no intention of telling him a single truthful word, knowing only how to stare at him longingly, practically drooling.

Ming Shiyu thought angrily: Before marriage, Mei Sen used this clingy, doting face to trick me. I thought I would have a real family life after marriage, but I didn’t expect those warm moments and intense intimacies to disappear along with the end of the honeymoon.

He had even been teased endlessly about it by his sharp-tongued friends. He still remembered a lab team-building event where a famous socialite researcher had smirked and asked him: “With that face and that figure, he got tired of you in a month? Just how bad are you in bed?” To be honest, he had thought that issues with marital harmony couldn’t be blamed on the receiving partner.

He could only pull at the corners of his mouth coldly and say, self-deprecatingly: “Maybe he finds me boring.” He let those jerks from the interstellar prison lab mock him to their hearts’ content.

So, when he accidentally sensed Mei Sen’s mental power at the funeral, Ming Shiyu was nearly ready to fly into a rage, grab the robot by the collar, and demand to know: If this funeral is fake, is our marriage fake, too?

But what was this situation now? Mei Sen was impersonating “Xiao Guan” just to come back and run his bathwater?

Ming Shiyu’s brows furrowed slightly. He looked incredibly annoyed, his nose wrinkling just a bit, making the small mole on the left side of his nose tip look particularly cute. Politicians are truly too good at acting; I can’t tell where their hearts are at all. He decided, Forget it. No matter what Mei Sen’s reasons are, I don’t want to play this guessing game. My next marriage partner will absolutely not be a politician.

Mei Sen was still oblivious, immersed in watching Ming Shiyu’s small expressions, having no idea he had already been dumped by his wife.

The little robot suddenly spoke with a smile. The first thing it said all day was: “Master, the chef will deliver the meal in half an hour. I suggest you take a hot bath; Xiao Guan can stand by nearby.”

He actually wants to watch me bathe.

Ming Shiyu: …

He was so angry at Mei Sen’s thick-skinned, rascal-like behavior that his temper flared. He lifted his crossed legs and, with a mean-spirited flick of his toe, kicked the little robot over.

Mei Sen: !!!

He fell onto his back, four wheels kicking and struggling, unable to flip himself over for a long time.

From his inverted perspective, he heard Ming Shiyu say loftily: “Xiao Guan, you’re grounded. You are not allowed to come up to the second floor tonight.” He then headed upstairs by himself.

In the distant Huaxia Alliance galaxy:

The First Sector Governor was busy with a government transition, preparing to depart for the Capital Star. He had too many tasks and a schedule too packed to handle; he had to hurry to approve the most urgent documents on hand, all while arranging the approval process for his handover of authority.

The Huaxia Alliance was nominally under the Empire, but their administrative systems were completely different. They had specialized emergency protocols for sudden events, but it wasn’t time to use those yet—strictly speaking, this counted as a personal matter.

The Governor, usually so composed and efficient, couldn’t help but feel frustrated while signing documents. The Alliance’s affairs were busy; if he wanted to take a long vacation plus engage in long-distance interstellar travel, his schedule hadn’t been cleared in advance, and there was no excuse to make his subordinates work overtime for no reason. He would just have to waste quite a few days dealing with the processing.

In fact, these last two years were a critical period for his career progression; the President of the Alliance Administrative Court was set to retire in a few years.

The pressure with which the man signed his name nearly tore through the paper, but he had to go. Missing the chance once had already left him feeling remorseful for two years.

“Shiyu…” He said his name almost like a sigh.

The deputies under each governor were working so hard their transceivers were practically sparking, busy taking over the First Governor’s work. The handover procedures for the Huaxia Alliance were extremely rigorous—meticulous to the point of being seamless—and the scope of the governors’ authority was vast, especially for the young and capable First Sector Governor.

The youngest deputy, working in a remote area far from the center of the Alliance, took a break to grumble to a colleague of equal rank: “The Emperor is so far away; I really don’t understand what the death of a Capital Star Council President has to do with us. Isn’t a condolence letter enough?”

The First Governor was a famous diamond bachelor—a “single dog,” living like an ascetic. In the two years since she had been hired, she had never seen him take a vacation; this was the first time she had seen such a scene.

Her colleague looked like he wanted to reach through the communicator and cover her loose-lipped mouth: “Say less gossip about the Empire. Let’s talk after work.” That’s right, let’s talk more gossip about the Governor after work.

At ten o’clock in the evening Alliance time, the deputies gathered at a pub on the First Sector. The inside was filled with lights and color, but the work-horses, their hair greasy from overwork, ignored the drinks, their eyes full of excitement for gossip about their boss.

The senior colleague, usually steady at work, now brandished a wine bottle and spoke wildly: “You silly girl, asking me about the Council President’s death while on the clock. Who cares if he’s dead? Our Governor is obviously going to comfort his childhood sweetheart.”

Someone sighed dreamily: “Ah, Professor Ming Shiyu. Before he married into the Capital Star, we could occasionally see him in the offices of the First Sector. I really envy the colleagues who get to travel with the Governor this time—they get to catch another glimpse of his beauty.”

“I heard that when Professor Ming first went to the Capital Star, people called him the ‘Imperial Tulip.’ With so many rich and handsome men fighting over him, it’s understandable that our Governor didn’t win his heart. But what’s with that Council President Mei Sen winning the prize and not cherishing it?”

The First Sector Governor’s deputy said sourly: “Hmph, so what if he’s excellent and powerful? When he was courting him, he was full of tricks—the news was full of announcements about his deep, unwavering love—but after marriage, there was no news of them being a ‘power couple.’ Instead, rumors appeared about him and Colonel Lin Lin. It makes me so mad.”

His direct superior was close with Professor Ming, so he often tagged along and now considered himself “family.”

“I support the Governor in stealing him back!”

“That’s right! To hell with the ‘Imperial Tulip’ of the Capital Star! With all their flashy tricks, he’s clearly the ‘Tulip of our Huaxia Alliance’!”

Indeed, within half a day of the news of Council President Mei Sen’s death, high-ranking officials and nobles from all walks of life were secretly thrilled. Many had even set their sights on his legitimate partner, proving that Mei Sen, who had become famous at a young age, had used his insidious and cunning political tactics—and the fact that he had married such a peerless partner—to indeed rack up plenty of enemies.

The next morning, Mei Sen experienced once again the feeling of despair he had felt two years ago when he had to take on all the single, eligible, high-quality bachelors of the Capital Star by himself.

Author’s Note:

Chapter 5: Second Spring

As soon as the little robot Mei Sen opened the door to the silver cart that had been delivered, he was drowned in condolence letters… or rather, love letters.

Ming Shiyu was a homebody-type scholar; aside from the time he actively attended gatherings when he was looking to marry, he never met the miscellaneous people unrelated to his work. So much so that Mei Sen had almost forgotten just how popular he was.

Mei Sen completely respected Ming Shiyu’s privacy and didn’t open any of his letters. So, how did he know they were love letters?