A Guide to Raising Snake Spirits - Chapter 40

Guan Yuexi thought back to the pile of bizarre artifacts his parents brought home from every interstellar trip. Those things weren’t even necessarily documented in books, suggesting his parents had likely scoured half of the known star systems.

Puzzled, Guan Yuexi asked, “What were you two doing, running around all those places?”

Yue Zirong spread her hands, “We had to develop informants and an economy. Buying starships takes money, maintaining an army takes money, and building bases takes money. Plus, you can’t exactly recruit people from within the Special Star.”

“The way you put it, this illegal criminal army of yours is actually quite large?” Guan Yuexi remarked.

“Next, I’ll let you see the masterpiece of your mother’s hard work all these years,” Ms. Yue Zirong said, puffing out her chest with pride. “I’m taking you to the base.”

Guan Yuexi blinked, “Wait, we aren’t going home?”

“Given how we were just being chased and shot at, if I dropped you back at your apartment, you’d be hauled right back into custody the very next second.”

Bian Mengmeng stood by, speechless.

“Can I go back?” Bian Mengmeng asked weakly. “The flowers I’m growing in the apartment will die if no one waters them.”

Yue Zirong thought for a moment, then gave Bian Mengmeng a smile as bright as spring peach blossoms. “Hmm, if they didn’t catch a good look at your face earlier and haven’t locked onto your identity, I can send a small pod to sneak you back in a bit.”

Guan Yuexi suddenly realized a glaring oversight and interrupted, “Wait, how did the Special Star Air Traffic Control not notice this massive fleet of yours?”

“That’s why we have to run fast!” Yue Zirong replied, appearing more proud than ashamed. She glanced down at her communicator. “They didn’t notice before, but they’ve caught on now.”

Guan Yuexi was at a loss for words.

Yue Zirong turned back to Bian Mengmeng. “Sorry, I don’t have the luxury of sending this cute little sister back right now.”

Bian Mengmeng slumped.

“But don’t worry. In a week or two, once their alert level drops, I’ll send someone to sneak you back.”

“It, it’s fine,” Bian Mengmeng stammered, waving her hands dryly. The successive shocks to her system had left her expression a bit numb. “I’m not in a hurry, and I’m actually curious about what… Sister Yue’s career looks like.”

Yue Zirong happily pinched Bian Mengmeng’s cheek and laughed, “Good girl. Daughters really are better, Yuexi isn’t nearly as cute as Mengmeng.”

Bian Mengmeng silently retreated to a corner of the starship to digest the situation. She never expected that she would transform from a lab worker at a research institute into a fugitive of the Special Star overnight.

Only one thought remained in her head: Oh my god, if I get caught, will I be executed immediately or face fifty years in prison? No, maybe if I refuse to comply, I’ll be blown to bits. But then again, visiting a real rebel army actually sounds kind of cool.

Among the three who had escaped the institute, only Shiraishi Hare remained calm. The Sentinel followed his usual pattern: wherever the Guide was, he was there. As long as he was next to the Guide, he was at peace.

“So,” Guan Yuexi said, “now you can explain what you meant earlier about ‘fishing my dad out.’ What was that all about?”

Yue Zirong smiled, “That’s a long story. I’m a military academy graduate, you know.”

“I didn’t know. I always thought you were a model or something, just living off your looks,” Guan Yuexi replied.

“I never told you?”

Guan Yuexi leaned back in his chair, deadpan. “No.”

“Haha, then Mom forgot. Now you know.” Yue Zirong laughed off the fact that her son had reached adulthood without knowing her profession, continuing as if nothing was wrong. “During my graduation assessment years ago, I happened to stumble upon an investigation into that research institute.”

Guan Yuexi sat up straight, listening intently as she continued.

“The more I investigated, the more I felt that place was wrong. I wanted to find an informant, and that’s when I ran into your father.”

“Back then, your dad was extremely quiet. You’ve never seen that side of him, so you probably can’t imagine it,” she said, happily airing her husband’s dirty laundry. “He was a standard socially-anxious tech researcher. Whenever he got nervous, he couldn’t squeeze out a single word.”

“On our first date, I let him pick the place. You definitely won’t guess where he chose, I nearly died laughing…”

Guan Yuexi was forced to interrupt Ms. Yue Zirong, who had completely drifted off into a trip down memory lane. “Can we stay focused?”

“Oh.” Yue Zirong casually tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Basically, your dad used to be a researcher in a core department of the Tianyou Research Institute, it wasn’t called that back then, but whatever, let’s call it that for now.”

“He already wanted to quit at the time, but at his level, it wasn’t easy to get away. Even though he found the experiments incredibly inhumane, he couldn’t just resign.”

“So, Yuexi, don’t misunderstand your father. He’s a good man.” Yue Zirong’s face possessed the charm of a mature woman, yet here she was, looking at her son with a pitiful, puppy-dog expression. “And so is Mom.”

Guan Yuexi sighed, “I’m not Dad. That look doesn’t work on me.”

Yue Zirong turned slightly, covering her face in mock tragedy. “Alas, children grow up and become so difficult. Mom’s heart is broken.”

Guan Yuexi helplessly raised his hands. “Fine, fine, I get it. Just keep going.”

The moment he finished, his mother’s expression changed faster than flipping a page in a book, and she naturally picked up where she left off.

“So, after your dad and I made contact in secret, we hit it off immediately. I continued to win over allies on my end, and your dad acted as the inside man.”

Guan Yuexi was speechless, but his curiosity about what she would say next quickly took over.

“At the beginning, our force was very small. We started by pulling in a few friends from the military academy.” Yue Zirong held up one finger. “That General sister you saw earlier, she was actually one of my close friends from the academy.”

“After a year or two, if your dad wanted to escape, he could have. I had gathered enough people to get him out. But his rank had increased and he could access more information, so he decided to play along and stay inside the institute to act as a mole.”

“Until you were about ten years old,” Yue Zirong said, “we felt it was becoming too dangerous, so he finally pulled out and transferred to logistics.”

Guan Yuexi went silent. He knew what she hadn’t finished saying. When he was ten, that was roughly when Shiraishi Hare had left their home.

The Guide looked up at Shiraishi Hare. The Sentinel’s face was calm, showing no emotion.

“And then? What have you been doing for the last decade? The scale of that institute still looks quite massive to me,” Guan Yuexi asked.

Bian Mengmeng snapped out of her existential crisis and listened carefully to this extraordinary gossip. Her gaze shifted between the two strikingly similar, handsome faces of Guan Yuexi and Yue Zirong. Not daring to butt in, she just listened quietly.

“Because they have backing.” Yue Zirong was still smiling, but her eyebrows didn’t move and the curve of her lips remained fixed, giving the smile an edge of anger. “Business and power are never truly separate, you know. Have you ever wondered how a research institute escapes the scrutiny of the Special Star’s regulatory agencies? Where do the Sentinels and Guides used for illegal experiments actually come from?”

Guan Yuexi’s heart sank as he guessed, “Are you saying there’s another organization… like the Tower?”

Back when Shiraishi Hare was taken away, Guan Yuexi had suspected the Tower. The Tower was notoriously strict with outsiders, yet they had easily allowed the institute to take their student, unless they were in league with them.

The fact that Tianyou Research Institute dared to write their name openly on the visitor log meant that taking Shiraishi Hare was an “official” transaction.

Beside them, Bian Mengmeng nearly jumped out of her seat, only to be yanked back by her seatbelt.

“What? You were part of a joint experiment between the Tower and the institute?” Bian Mengmeng asked in disbelief.

“Indeed. Who would know the situation of the special population on Special Star better than the Tower?” Yue Zirong asked back with a smile.

“Most likely, yes.” Guan Yuexi nodded to Bian Mengmeng.

As a fellow Guide from Special Star, Guan Yuexi understood exactly what Bian Mengmeng was thinking.

Guan Yuexi had spent twelve years in the Tower, from age twelve to twenty-four. He had teachers he hated and teachers he liked, he had competed in matches and taken exams, he had laughed and he had rolled in the mud during competitions.

To be honest, the Tower held a very special significance in the heart of every member of the special population.

“Precisely because the opposing forces are exceptionally powerful, it took me longer to accumulate strength.” Yue Zirong gave a mysterious smile. “Once you reach Mom’s base, you’ll see what I’ve been doing all these years.”

***

Guan Yuexi leaned against the back of his chair with his eyes closed, his head nodding slightly.

Ever since he began planning Shiraishi Hare’s rescue, the Guide had rarely slept well. During the five days he was trapped in the institute, he had hardly rested at all. He looked like he was just closing his eyes to rest, but in reality, no one could truly fall into a deep sleep in the heart of the enemy’s camp.

After that, there was the psychological warfare with Mr. Zhang, the mark reinforcement, the bombing of the institute, and the life-or-death escape in the starship. All of it required high-intensity mental effort.

When he finished talking to his mom and stepped away from the pilot’s seat, he still looked alert, but he was actually on the verge of collapse. His hands, hanging at his sides, were trembling uncontrollably.

Shiraishi Hare lowered his gaze, catching sight of the Guide’s slightly shaking fingertips.

Suddenly, Guan Yuexi’s cool fingertips were wrapped in warmth. He turned to see the Sentinel holding his hands in his own.

The grey-haired Sentinel murmured, “Let me massage them for you.”

His hands, which were on the verge of cramping from over-exhaustion, were suddenly bathed in warmth. It was a profound comfort. Guan Yuexi simply handed him the other hand as well, “Alright.”

Shiraishi Hare focused intently, massaging from the Guide’s finger pads to the tips, missing neither the palms nor the backs of his hands.

The Sentinel’s movements were proper, and his expression was serious, but as the massage continued, Guan Yuexi felt something wasn’t quite right. The heat from the Sentinel’s hands seemed to travel all the way through the Guide’s entire body, and even the tips of Guan Yuexi’s ears began to burn.

Guan Yuexi inexplicably thought back to the moment of marking, when Shiraishi Hare had held his hands. At that time, the grip had been much more forceful and commanding.

The Guide wanted to pull his hands back, but seeing Shiraishi Hare’s single-minded focus, he left them in his palms.

Shiraishi Hare stared at these hands. They were well-defined, with thin calluses only at the joints from holding a gun, slender, fair, and smooth.

They were completely different from the Sentinel’s own hands, which were covered in scars, and they were slightly smaller than his own. Shiraishi Hare wasn’t particularly tan, but the Guide was even fairer.

The Guide really came. He’s here in my hands, Shiraishi Hare thought.

Even though he had been prepared to be abandoned and had pushed Guan Yuexi toward safety, Guan Yuexi had come anyway.

The Guide had risked his life, and even though the marking wasn’t entirely voluntary, forced by that researcher, he was here.

Shiraishi Hare was glad his hair hung down, hiding the dark intensity in his eyes.

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