A Charming and Cool Guy Finds Himself in a Chaotic Situation [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 4

For a brief second, Yu Mianfeng didn’t register that those words were directed specifically at him, but Yuan Hechu was hardly the type of person to make careless jokes.

From the absolute gravity in Yuan Hechu’s gaze, he realized the man was genuinely, deeply concerned that he was being targeted by a predatory Alpha.

Deeply concerned about a tyrannical, notoriously disreputable, thoroughly irredeemable villain.

He suddenly found the entire situation somewhat amusing.

【…His rose-tinted filters for you are simply out of control. 】

Yu Mianfeng couldn’t agree more. Yuan Hechu was definitely projecting some kind of massive misconception onto him. Or was the original novel’s secondary lead simply this universally protective toward everyone?

In a split second, Yu Mianfeng cleanly deduced the factual truth of the matter. Jiang Henggu had simply lost proper mastery over his primitive biology during that sudden rut, unintentionally transferring a trace of his pheromone scent onto his clothes during their scuffle.

Yuan Hechu was far too perceptive. Yu Mianfeng had absolutely zero intention of letting Jiang Henggu’s name slip past his lips in this man’s presence. According to the original trajectory, the Protagonist Gong and the secondary lead weren’t supposed to establish any meaningful acquaintance until much later in the timeline.

Who knew if this premature ripple would trigger a massive butterfly effect and cause his mandatory plot mission to fail entirely? Merely crossing paths with Yuan Hechu ahead of schedule was already causing his head to throb with a massive headache.

“It was just an accident involving a friend navigating a sudden rut.”

Yu Mianfeng smoothly pivoted the focus of the dialogue: “Does the Marshal know a reliable method to neutralize lingering pheromone anchors?”

Ever since his primary academy years, Yu Mianfeng had consistently tuned out during basic physiological education classes, dedicating his full cognitive capacity to core military curriculum metrics. His family elders had similarly omitted teaching him these specific nuances presumably because it had never occurred to anyone that a rogue entity would ever possess the raw audacity to leave unauthorized pheromones on the precious young master of the Yu clan.

An Alpha deliberately forcing their pheromones onto a Beta’s skin barring an absolute biological emergency like a chaotic rut was a highly intimate gesture reserved exclusively for deeply bonded lifelong partners. Given Yu Mianfeng’s absolute institutional leverage, the moment he expressed even a shred of aversion, those rut-addled Alphas wouldn’t even be granted the structural opportunity to breach his outer security perimeter.

Sensing the youth’s distinct aversion to digging deeper into the matter, Yuan Hechu dropped the line of inquiry cleanly, simply stating: “A standard chemical pheromone blocker will neutralize it. I happen to maintain a supply on my person.”

The tightly tailored black leather of his glove flexed as he smoothly retrieved a sleek, compact canister from his uniform pocket.

Yu Mianfeng reached out to take it, but his hand was met with a gentle, unyielding redirection from the older man. “Allow me,” Yuan Hechu murmured flatly.

As Yuan Hechu closed the physical distance between them, Yu Mianfeng detected the incredibly faint, crisp scent of tobacco smoke clinging to his frame. Even after leaning against that stone balustrade and letting the freezing night air whip past him for half the evening, the scent refused to scatter entirely.

Yu Mianfeng didn’t smoke; his respiratory system was exceptionally sensitive to the chemical odor.

The fine mist settling over his frame rapidly blanketed his entire person. The physical proximity separating the two became incredibly narrow. Yuan Hechu towered over him by a considerable margin, leaning down with absolute, meticulous precision to ensure every single surface of the youth’s attire was thoroughly treated with the neutralizing agent.

The incredibly faint trace of tobacco smoke in the local air was rapidly buried beneath the compound presumably a secondary reaction of the blocker’s chemical formulation.

Is the baseline mechanics of neutralizing Alpha pheromones anchored in an identical principle? Yu Mianfeng observed the process with deep, intellectual curiosity.

In reality, the rogue Alpha’s pheromones were strictly anchored around the exposed skin of Yu Mianfeng’s back neck, yet Yuan Hechu’s thorough execution strongly suggested an intent to drench the youth from head to toe.

Yu Mianfeng possessed zero expertise regarding these biological countermeasures. The moment Yuan Hechu requested him to elevate his shins to complete the application, he simply hoisted himself up to sit directly atop the cool stone balustrade.

Extending his legs outward, he shifted his center of gravity slightly backward. The absolute fluid grace of his movements made him look remarkably like a sleek cat perched on a high ledge perfectly poised to vault down from the terrace at a fraction of a second’s notice, twisting his frame to slip into the shadows and vanish entirely from everyone’s world.

【Exercise a modicum of caution, please. 】

The entity inside his mind finally delivered a phrase that sounded reasonably grounded, but Yu Mianfeng lacked the spare cognitive capacity to entertain its commentary.

The exact instant Yuan Hechu witnessed Yu Mianfeng brace a single palm against the masonry and effortlessly vault onto the high ledge, his heart rate spiked violently. It wasn’t until the youth securely anchored his frame on the stone that his heart finally settled back into his chest.

This internal spike of anxiety felt entirely irrational; he knew with absolute certainty that given Yu Mianfeng’s peerless physical operational capabilities, a mechanical error was a statistical impossibility.

Even as Yuan Hechu tracked that logic through his mind, his gaze suddenly locked rigidly onto a specific coordinate.

The swelling red marks circling Yu Mianfeng’s calves were glaringly conspicuous in the gloom.

Yuan Hechu came dangerously close to crushing the composite canister nestled inside his palm.

Merely tracking that patch of abused skin forced his mind to visualize exactly how that rogue Alpha had clamped his fingers around the Beta’s ankles, and what vile, degrading desires had been churning through his system at that exact juncture.

As a fellow Alpha, he understood the primitive psychology driving that individual with absolute, terrifying clarity. If a young, volatile Alpha was navigating the peak of a sudden rut, exactly what manner of biological reactions would consume their self-control?

He had been pinned down with immense, unyielding force.

Does this mark similarly trace back to that ‘friend’s unexpected rut’?

Yuan Hechu maintained a heavy, absolute silence, his eyes anchored firmly on the youth’s exposed ankles as they swayed slightly in the empty space.

When he was alone with that Alpha, did he display this exact same posture? Completely devoid of a single shred of personal defense.

Yuan Hechu forced his cognitive systems to violently reject those highly dangerous lines of thought. He dropped into a low, disciplined squat, anchoring his hand firmly to stabilize Yu Mianfeng’s lower leg before depressing the spray mechanism.

If any official from the High Command witnessed this exact scene unfolding, their psychological systems would likely experience a profound wave of horror.

Yu Mianfeng had executed the posture with absolute intent.

He maintained a supreme, downward stare as he looked down at Yuan Hechu, swinging his legs with a casual rhythm an action that violated every established standard of aristocratic etiquette. Delivering a blatant display of disrespect during a first encounter was an excellent method to anchor a profoundly negative impression, aligning perfectly with standard villain operational protocols.

「If I execute it like this, will he finally snap and lose his temper? Yu Mianfeng questioned internally.

【Highly probable. The specific cadence and arc of your swinging legs is remarkably subtle. If I occupied his physical shoes, I would have already seized those ankles with immense enthusiasm and proceeded to execute certain activities that both of us would thoroughly appreciate. 】

Yu Mianfeng possessed zero understanding of what those abstract descriptions implied, but his intuition cleanly cataloged it as a thoroughly unhelpful commentary.

He lowered his gaze slightly, tracking the high, sharp bridge of Yuan Hechu’s nose.

The man’s institutional breeding and internal discipline were demonstrably peerless; even when subjected to such an overt display of disrespect, his face retained zero trace of irritation.

In the original novel’s trajectory, this individual was consistently depicted as an absolute pool of stagnant, unyielding water yet beneath that placid surface rested a pitch-black, fathomless abyss. Having occupied the absolute apex of institutional authority for a prolonged duration, his baseline cadence consistently carried a subtle, commanding weight. Even during the chaotic, volatile political revolutions that fractured the governmental infrastructure later in the narrative, his noble lineage didn’t subtract a single shred from his immense leverage among the civilian population.

Yuan Hechu was an unyielding champion of meritocratic egalitarianism, whereas Yu Mianfeng was backed entirely by the antithesis of his philosophy a deeply entrenched, stagnant, and decaying aristocracy.

By all objective metrics, they should harbor an absolute, visceral loathing for one another.

Yet, Yu Mianfeng remained entirely incapable of locating a single trace of negative emotion across Yuan Hechu’s features zero sign of the standard revulsion a secondary lead was fated to harbor for a villain.

Because their initial encounter had been pulled forward in the timeline, the canonical scene where the Marshal catches the villain executing a forced abduction of the Protagonist Shou remained a distant, unrealized future event. To prevent the structural integrity of the plot from splintering completely, Yu Mianfeng needed to actively manufacture a scenario that forced Yuan Hechu to despise him, establishing the proper foundation for the man’s long-term impression of the villain.

Yuan Hechu merely watched as Yu Mianfeng suddenly appeared to develop a sharp, intellectual curiosity regarding gender biology. The youth abruptly inquired: “Marshal, what is the exact chemical profile of your personal pheromones?”

Ever since his secondary gender differentiation, Yuan Hechu had subjected himself to rigorous, continuous pheromone suppression training; from that point onward, his system had never permitted a single drop of leakage. He was an unyielding proponent of ABO equality, fiercely advocating that humanity should refuse to let its cognitive faculties be dictated by primitive chemical signaling. He consistently led by absolute example, maintaining a personal record entirely devoid of a single romantic scandal.

No one in the Federation knew the true nature of his pheromones; it was a principle he had defended with absolute discipline for his entire career. As long as he never lost mastery over his biology, his operational philosophy remained entirely validated.

When introducing a query that directly assaulted such a foundational boundary, Yu Mianfeng fully anticipated a flash of profound irritation.

Instead, Yuan Hechu simply stood up, raising his ungloved hand to gently, perfunctorily pat the crown of the youth’s head. He offered zero verbal answer, yet his face remained completely devoid of anger.

It was an entirely unexpected gesture.

While Yu Mianfeng’s famously detached features registered zero visible shift, his internal cognitive systems experienced a wave of profound surprise. He was hit with a distinct, bizarre illusion it felt remarkably as though Yuan Hechu was deploying the exact methodology used to handle a recalcitrant younger relative within his own clan line.

The atmosphere lapsed into a brief stretch of absolute silence. Neither individual belonged to a particularly talkative archetype, causing the dialogue to stall completely.

“Pursuing that line of inquiry yields zero practical value. I believe certain alternative parameters will command a far higher degree of your interest,” Yuan Hechu murmured after a moment of contemplation.

Yu Mianfeng possesses an intensely competitive, unyielding drive for dominance. That specific metric had been clearly outlined in the intelligence dossiers resting on Yuan Hechu’s personal desk.

During the semi-finals of the Capital Academy Championship tournament the previous year, Yu Mianfeng had suffered a sudden, severe relapse of a chronic underlying pathology right before his scheduled match. Forced to withdraw from active competition, his track had been cut short within the top four bracket. That specific incident had apparently transformed into an absolute taboo topic; from that point onward, he had issued a tyrannical decree banning anyone from mentioning the tournament in his presence, an action that ordinary onlookers chalked up to a petty, face-saving tantrum driven by intense humiliation.

Yet, Yuan Hechu possessed an absolute clarity regarding the data: based on Yu Mianfeng’s authentic operational parameters, the champion’s mantle should have been his by right.

As a Beta navigating a universe built around Alpha physics, whatever physical baseline deficits his biology possessed had been thoroughly neutralized through a series of training regimens far more draconian and punishing than anything his peers endured. The reality was a complete contradiction of the private gossip circulating among the student body he hadn’t manufactured a convenient illness out of a coward’s terror of exposing his limits on a public stage.

When viewed through that specific lens, Yu Mianfeng’s subsequent handling of the situation looked remarkably anomalous. Issuing a tyrannical ban on the topic would inevitably cause his peers to whisper even more fervently behind closed doors a strategic error that thoroughly contradicted Yu Mianfeng’s baseline intelligence profile.

Furthermore, on the exact day Yu Mianfeng’s medical crisis unfolded, the entire Yu clan infrastructure had instantly locked into an absolute, top-tier defensive alert state for a prolonged duration. The youth had been extracted and transferred to a highly secure private medical facility at blistering speed. While his exact diagnostic profile remained heavily classified, the operational parameters strongly suggested a crisis of a life-threatening caliber.

At that exact juncture, Yuan Hechu had been occupying a prominent seat within the Military High Command’s observation gallery. He had watched with quiet detachment as the four remaining student competitors took their positions inside the staging lounges alongside the arena, scanning their performances to identify promising assets capable of integration into the military’s advanced officer tracks.

The evaluation required prioritizing comprehensive strategic capabilities, closely followed by an audit of the students’ institutional family backgrounds. Given the current shifting tides of the High Command, securing assets with clear meritocratic, civilian leanings was a high priority.

That was where he had cataloged a highly familiar face.

The student listed under the name Jiang Henggu had secured an exceptional array of victories throughout the opening brackets. Curiously, the young man appeared entirely detached from the impending semi-final match, continuously shifting his posture to cast anxious glances toward the rear corridors, as if frantically searching for a specific silhouette.

Yuan Hechu’s brow had drawn together slightly; he was well aware of the intense personal friction connecting this student to the Yu clan heir.

The moment his gaze shifted away from the arena floor, his adjutant had stepped forward to deliver an urgent notification.

“Competitor Yu Mianfeng has suffered an acute, sudden medical crisis. He has been officially disqualified from active competition.”

The entire stadium had erupted into an absolute uproar.

Yuan Hechu stood as the universal icon of the military apparatus an unyielding, legendary commander idolized by countless citizens. Given that the Capital Academy operated as a semi-military institution, the supreme honor permitted to a tournament champion was to receive their medal directly from the Grand Marshal’s hands, followed by a brief, perfunctory mecha sparring session an instructional exhibition match.

Standing atop the presentation dais, Yuan Hechu had carefully evaluated the young man standing before him.

The final victor was Jiang Henggu.

He recalled that Yu Mianfeng had subjected this individual to every imaginable form of public humiliation a series of actions that should have proven entirely unendurable to an Alpha’s primitive pride yet the young man standing before him displayed an attitude of absolute, detached indifference toward his achievement. By all rights, he possessed the psychological stability required of a top-tier asset, yet throughout their brief exhibition spar, his operational execution had looked remarkably rushed and unfocused.

The match had been brought to a swift, clean conclusion.

Jiang Henggu had exited his cockpit and offered a crisp military salute, yet his steps as he descended from the dais were incredibly hurried, as if he was desperate to break away and track down an elusive answer. Throughout their short tactical engagement, Yuan Hechu had distinctly felt the young man’s fundamental cognitive focus drifting entirely away from the arena.

After a long period of calculation, Yuan Hechu had ultimately drawn a clean line through the young man’s name on his recruitment roster.

The cool voice of the youth standing before him cleanly snapped Yuan Hechu back to the present reality.

“What manner of parameters are you referring to?”

The youth blinked his brilliant, deep blue eyes, tracking his features with an expression of absolute boredom.

Yuan Hechu lapsed into a brief moment of silence.

“Perhaps you would find a direct tactical spar against my person to be an acceptable diversion?”

The two proceeded directly to the private training facilities housed deep within the Yu clan estate.

With a simple, dismissive wave of his hand, Yu Mianfeng sent the entire team of professional sparring partners retained by his family packing, leaving nothing but the elite personal bodyguards assigned by his father stationed outside the primary blast doors.

The presence of those sentries felt remarkably redundant, considering Yu Mianfeng was currently flanked by the absolute pinnacle of the entire Federation’s combat capabilities. Then again, who was to say that this exact Grand Marshal didn’t represent the absolute highest vector of physical danger in the room?

Yu Mianfeng mused internally that if Yuan Hechu possessed an authentic desire to forcefully abduct him from this facility tonight, executing it would likely prove to be a remarkably effortless endeavor. Fortunately, the Marshal was entirely above such rogue methodology.

Yuan Hechu’s personal mecha was a highly classified, peak-tier prototype representing the absolute cutting edge of current engineering. The manufacturing process of that single unit had single-handedly drained a massive portion of the military’s advanced research allocation; within the current production cycle, humanity lacked the structural resources required to output a second unit. Every single researcher associated with the program had showered the asset with unbridled praise; to merely pilot it or even to briefly run one’s fingers across its outer armor plating was viewed as a supreme, unattainable honor within the piloting community.

The institutional relationship connecting the Yu family and the High Command had consistently tracked along a highly delicate, volatile line prior to tonight, leaving Yu Mianfeng zero opportunity to ever inspect the machine in person.

The moment Yuan Hechu initialized the summoning sequence and deployed the massive frame, Yu Mianfeng pressed his fingertips directly against the composite alloy surface, registering the freezing, industrial touch. He circled the massive machine with unbridled enthusiasm, his movements remarkably reminiscent of a curious cat inspecting a massive, pristine toy.

“You may attempt to initialize a baseline piloting sequence,” Yuan Hechu offered flatly. “I shall occupy the auxiliary command seat to observe. Once you have concluded your technical calibration, we shall commence our physical spar.”

Yu Mianfeng closed his eyes, concentrating his consciousness to establish a clean neural link with the machine’s central processor. His mental focus locked into such an absolute state of concentration that he remained entirely oblivious to the reality that Yuan Hechu’s gaze was pinned firmly on his features from a short distance away.

Tracking that pale face, Yuan Hechu’s mind drifted back into a series of archival data points.

He had encountered the name Yu Mianfeng a very long time ago. The youngest scion of the Yu family possessed a level of innate tactical talent that had driven countless intelligence operatives to whisper frantically behind closed doors. Later on, when Yu Mianfeng officially entered the Capital Academy and his youthful features began to refine, those exact operatives shifted their focus to tracking his aesthetic metrics.

Given the deep integration connecting the High Command and the Academy infrastructure, Yuan Hechu received regular intelligence updates tracking his development. As the sole heir to a monolithic entity that wielded absolute, unyielding control over the Capital Planet, every single micro-action executed by Yu Mianfeng was subjected to intense scrutiny by various factions.

Yu Mianfeng has demonstrated an absolute, peerless aptitude for advanced mecha engineering. Yu Mianfeng has secured a perfect score on his final tactical operational evaluation, ranking absolute first across the entire department. Academy internal auditors have verified the legitimacy of the metric. Two prominent Alphas at the Capital Academy launched an all-out physical conflict over Yu Mianfeng’s favor; one has been officially checked into an intensive care pod. The Yu clan and the Lu family have initialized a series of highly frequent, high-level diplomatic exchanges recently.

An immense sea of young Alphas anchored their absolute romantic obsessions firmly around his silhouette.

Not long ago, Yuan Hechu had even accidentally discovered that one of his lower-ranking meritocratic officers maintained a tightly hidden, slightly out-of-focus photograph in his personal belongings. Confronted with his officer’s visible panic, Yuan Hechu’s features had remained perfectly expressionless and devoid of feedback, yet his internal data banks had methodically processed the image, ultimately identifying the face as Yu Mianfeng’s.

Sifting through the various textual intelligence reports compiled by his subordinates, Yuan Hechu was hit with a sudden, profound realization: an individual possessing Yu Mianfeng’s exact profile if stripped of an ironclad, terrifying personal weapon capable of absolute deterrence would inevitably become the target of some truly horrific outcomes.

The capital weapon restriction mandates pushed through the legislature in recent years had, in a twisted sense, merely served to embolden the predatory, lurking desires of certain entities. A Beta’s icy detachment operated as an incredibly potent fuel to an Alpha’s primitive excitement. Yu Mianfeng would never face a shortage of obsessed suitors; there would always be an endless line of entities willing to bash their own heads open simply to command a single fragment of his attention.

Who was to say that those seemingly progressive, civilian-aligned factions weren’t harboring those exact primitive motivations? Once the entrenched aristocracy was systematically dismantled, Yu Mianfeng would no longer occupy an unapproachable, lofty heaven.

Yuan Hechu maintained a disciplined, absolute silence as he tracked Yu Mianfeng’s mechanical execution from the auxiliary monitor. In terms of raw, physical combat synchronization, the youth’s talent was undeniable. It owed nothing to his family lineage, and nothing to his institutional backing.

By the time his instructional spar against Yuan Hechu drew to a close, a light sheen of sweat had coated Yu Mianfeng’s skin.

Yuan Hechu noted that the youth’s eyes remained pinned firmly to the mecha’s structural specs; reading the precise desires churning through that sharp mind required zero cognitive effort.

The moment they pushed open the primary doors of the training facility, they were greeted by the absolute stillness of the deep midnight hours. The Grand Marshal had zero intention of letting a newly legal Beta navigate the estate corridors unescorted: “The hour has grown exceptionally late. Allow me to escort you back to the pavilion.”

Yu Mianfeng’s forward momentum stalled for a fraction of a second, his eyes instinctively shifting toward the Yu family bodyguards trailing at a short distance.

The long corridor remained profoundly quiet as the two walked side by side, the personal sentries maintaining an incredibly low profile, tracking their frames from a respectful distance.

“Shall we exchange digital communicator codes?” Yuan Hechu inquired abruptly. “Whenever the High Command’s operations clear up, I can arrange to transport the prototype unit to your estate for further data collection.”

Yu Mianfeng naturally granted his consent instantly.

The entity inside his mind was undoubtedly unleashing another wave of passive-aggressive commentary, but he had long since banished its existence from his immediate cognitive focus. Having been permitted to pilot such a flawless, peerless piece of advanced engineering had cleanly obliterated whatever lingering irritation tonight’s formal banquet had forced onto his system.

As they re-entered the primary estate architecture, the banquet was officially winding down to its absolute conclusion. The departing aristocratic guests happened to witness the two figures returning side by side, their minds instantly launching a flurry of geopolitical calculations tracking the latest alignment connecting the Yu clan and the Military High Command.

Yuan Hechu completely ignored those calculative stares, executing his escort duty flawlessly until Yu Mianfeng was safely returned to his parents’ immediate flank.

The Marshal’s personal security detail had remained stationed outside the primary pavilion; if Yu Mianfeng had been forced to navigate the crowded banquet hall entirely unescorted, there was zero guarantee that another predatory Alpha wouldn’t have attempted to stake a claim. Yuan Hechu had fully intended to scan the room to isolate the exact Alpha who had left their pheromones on the youth’s person yet curiously, his senses failed to detect a single matching chemical signature among the remaining guests.

There was no telling if that rut-addled Alpha had already broken security perimeters and fled the venue. Regardless, Yuan Hechu had drilled that offensive, pungent mint pheromone signature deep into his tactical memory banks.

A short while later, Yu Mianfeng officially retreated to his private quarters. Locking the heavy door behind him, he smoothly retrieved his slate and fountain pen to begin logging his technical feedback from tonight’s mechanical sparring session.

Throughout his writing, his communicator pinged continuously as an absolute deluge of incoming notifications flooded his network, but he ignored them completely. Operating a machine of that caliber had extracted an immense toll on his neural and physical reserves; the moment he laid his pen aside, his sole objective was to submerge his frame into his private hot spring.

He casually brought his communicator along into the bath enclosure, intending to use the downtime to offer a few perfunctory responses to the Protagonist Gong and Shou. Such were the dense, exhausting operational realities of an elite villain’s lifestyle.

The lavish quarters assigned to the villain featured a completely private, indoor geothermal spring. Yu Mianfeng dipped his fingertips into the surface, verifying that the temperature was perfectly calibrated. Stripping away his garments, he exposed a flawless, pale frame and slightly narrow shoulders a skin as smooth as polished jade, revealing the subtle definitions of disciplined physical training only upon close inspection.

Perhaps due to a congenital frailty encoded into his physiology from birth, no matter how draconian his training regimens proved to be, his core musculature merely retained a very light, faint outline clean and symmetrical, yet completely lacking in mass. If those muscle-bound Alphas who continuously question my academic achievements ever catch sight of this frame, they’d likely unleash a wave of intense mockery, Yu Mianfeng mused with distinct displeasure.

He stepped directly into the steaming waters, his communicator held securely in his palm as the dense geothermal mist swirled around his frame, a wave of profound physical relief rapidly spreading through his entire nervous system.

The entity inside his mind let out a sharp, low whistle that sounded remarkably vulgar. Yu Mianfeng had long since grown completely desensitized to its rogue behavior, casually activating his screen to face a massive wall of unread data.

He first tapped into his chat logs with the secondary lead.

Yuan Hechu: You possess an exceptional, authentic talent within that operational matrix. Yuan Hechu: See to it that you secure proper rest tonight.

Yuan Hechu was notorious for his absolute economy of praise; receiving evaluations of this caliber from his station was an incredibly rare anomaly.

Yu Mianfeng typed out a simple, flat response: “Understood.”

According to canonical plot protocols, if he intended to degrade the structural relationship connecting the secondary lead and the villain, he should be utilizing every available tool to ensure Yuan Hechu found his character thoroughly repulsive.

Yu Mianfeng lowered his eyelids, staring fixedly at the digital interface.

The narrative required fulfillment. Yet, if he introduced a minute, highly controlled variance within a safe threshold, exactly what manner of systemic changes would manifest?

Ultimately, beneath that freezing, perfunctory “Understood,” he chose to honor his authentic internal disposition, appending an additional line: “My thanks, Marshal.”

Yuan Hechu was likely occupied with pressing military logistics; his profile remained dark, yielding zero immediate feedback.

Yu Mianfeng shifted his focus to the remaining unread logs, discovering that practically the entire deluge of data traced back to Jiang Henggu. Having successfully acquired a replacement communicator, the Alpha had meticulously generated a response to every single message previously transmitted across their log.

—The Dog: I am profoundly sorry. I never anticipated my system would trigger a sudden rut out of nowhere. —The Dog replied to【Have you arrived? 】: I have successfully checked back into my primary residence. My current vital signs track within perfectly stable parameters. —The Dog replied to【Where the hell are you?】: Currently submerged in a tub of ice water trying to stabilize my core. —The Dog replied to【Answer me.】: Tonight was an absolute statistical anomaly. I swear I will execute a split-second response time across every future ping. —The Dog: TvT

The man was currently in the middle of streaming another endless wave of harassing text strings. Yu Mianfeng narrowed his eyes, his thumbs hovering over the digital interface as he prepared to construct a thoroughly scathing reprimand when an incoming video call sudden overrode his entire screen.

The local air was heavily saturated with geothermal steam, creating a layer of moisture across his screen. Before Yu Mianfeng could cleanly decipher the identity of the incoming caller, his damp thumb accidentally brushed against the connection interface, initializing the link.

The exact instant his own reflection materialized on the high-definition display, Yu Mianfeng’s cognitive systems went completely blank.

Lu Yibo was still clad in the pristine white tuxedo from tonight’s formal banquet, a polite, elegant smile anchored across his handsome features as he looked directly into the camera lens, every single aesthetic metric polished to absolute perfection.

“Mianfeng…”

Before the syllable could cleanly leave his throat, his entire facial expression locked into absolute, rigid stasis.

A stretch of flawless, snow-white skin was glaringly visible across his monitor.

The current camera angle made it look remarkably as though the young master was being cradled directly in the palm of his hand. The youth’s features were entirely stripped of their customary, freezing detachment replaced instead by a rare, profoundly disoriented wave of shock, presented in stark, high-definition contrast alongside bare skin on Lu Yibo’s display.

Lu Yibo’s gaze drifted downward, locking onto the elegant contours of the youth’s collarbones, followed by a partial view of an exposed chest.

Before his cognitive systems could even register the utility of initializing a screen capture sequence, the video link was violently severed.