A Guide to Raising Snake Spirits - Chapter 45

“Haha, I’m no leader. I’m just Mizuki’s mother,” Yue Zirong replied naturally, deflecting the tension with effortless grace. “But tell me, Professor Qiushui, what kind of collaboration did you have in mind?”

“To be honest, I’m not here representing myself,” Qiushui said with a gentle smile. “I am here as a representative of a specific faction within the Tower. What I want to discuss with you concerns the Tianyou Research Institute and the Fengyun Enterprise backing it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow, Professor,” Yue Zirong laughed. “Our business here is primarily grain import and export. You are a teacher at the Tower, so how did you get mixed up with a research institute?”

“Here, try some of our base’s specialty tea, Professor Qiushui. It’s currently our best-seller,” Yue Zirong added, sliding a teacup toward Qiushui.

“For a grain company, your fleet of starships is unusually large,” Qiushui remarked, accepting the tea with a polite smile. “Maintaining them must eat up quite a bit of your profit, doesn’t it?”

“Well, you know how it is. Space pirates are rampant these days. This area is remote and sparsely populated, and I’m a bit of a coward,” Yue Zirong explained, her hands spread wide in a shrug. “It’s only natural to hire a guard fleet. The commission fees are nothing compared to the loss of a transport ship, which could set us back half a year’s earnings.”

The air in the meeting room was thick with the scent of invisible gunpowder, yet Yue Zirong skillfully smoothed it over with her lighthearted tone.

Mizuki, leaned back in his chair, silently watching these two women maneuver through a tactical dance of wit and hidden agendas.

Bian Mengmeng hadn’t expected to walk into such a high-tension atmosphere. After she entered, Yue Zirong’s subordinates closed the doors, sealing the meeting room into a private, pressurized space once more.

Looking lost and confused, Bian Mengmeng glanced left and right before deciding to stick close to Mizuki. She cautiously edged along the wall toward him, hoping for an explanation from her familiar teammate. However, she watched as the grey-haired Sentinel silently moved half a step forward, effectively blocking the path between her and the Guide.

Bian Mengmeng: “…”

She got the message. There was no place for her to squeeze in here, so she stood obediently where she was. She could tell the main conversation was between Yue Zirong and Qiushui, and her presence was likely just a gesture of goodwill from Yue Zirong to Qiushui.

“Our sincerity regarding this partnership is genuine,” Qiushui said, taking a sip of tea. “It’s only natural for a leader to have reservations and be reluctant to speak plainly.”

Without breaking eye contact, Qiushui looked at Yue Zirong with a bright smile. She tapped her terminal a few times, and a moment later, Mizuki’s terminal chimed.

Mizuki opened the notification and was surprised to find that Qiushui had sent him a document. He exchanged a look with his mother.

“This is my gesture of good faith, an entry permit for foreign starships to Special Planet,” Qiushui explained gently.

Taking the hint, Mizuki walked over and showed the holographic screen to his mother.

Yue Zirong glanced at it and asked with a smile, “What is the meaning of this, Professor Qiushui?”

“The Tower is actually split into two factions,” Qiushui continued at a measured pace. “One side supports the theory of Special Human Evolution, while the other, which includes people like me, insists on putting the students first. Not everyone in the Tower is collaborating with the Institute. This document is proof that those of us who aren’t with them have the value and the means to be your partners.”

Upon hearing this, Yue Zirong let out a sudden, hearty laugh, completely different from her previous polite, staged smiles.

“Professor Qiushui, you really are a straight shooter,” she said, dropping the act. She turned to Mizuki and asked, “, why didn’t you mention how interesting Professor Qiushui is before?”

Mizuki: “…”

He sighed, temporarily stepping into the role of his mother’s secretary. He asked Qiushui, “Professor, what are the specific details of the collaboration?”

“We can provide legal channels for your people to enter Special Planet in batches, and we can share internal intelligence from the Tower,” Qiushui said smoothly. “In exchange, we need the use of your mother’s starships and personnel.”

“How many people are on your side?” Mizuki asked.

“A segment of the Tower’s faculty and students, as well as some of my former students who have graduated and are now working across various industries.”

Qiushui was indeed being very sincere, answering every question without hesitation or ambiguity. Mizuki and his mother exchanged another look.

From Mizuki’s perspective, Qiushui’s sincerity was at about ninety percent. The remaining ten percent was reserved for caution, as he couldn’t rule out the possibility that she was a double agent sent by the Tower.

“I didn’t realize you were a woman of such hidden depths, Professor,” Mizuki teased lightly. “No wonder you were able to find a way so quickly when I wanted to go to the Institute.”

“I’m just glad I could help, Professor Mizuki,” Qiushui replied with a slight smile.

Once everything was out in the open, the three of them sat in a circle drinking tea in harmony. This left Bian Mengmeng dazed and too cautious to speak, while Shiroishi Haru sat silently beside his Guide, his lips pressed thin.

Yue Zirong sent a message for the General to come and discuss the finer points.

While they waited, Mizuki held his teacup. The steam rose, blurring his handsome features. He suddenly spoke up, “Professor Qiushui, I have a question.”

“What is it?” she asked kindly.

“Was the location for my graduation exam on the Desolate Planet planned by your group?” Mizuki希 recalled the strange looks the two examiners had exchanged when he asked about the anomalies on that planet.

Qiushui blew softly on the surface of her tea and smiled at him. “There aren’t usually many true coincidences in this world, but sometimes, things really do just align that way.”

Mizuki希 looked down at the translucent, reddish-brown liquid in his cup. It swirled gently as he moved his hand, brushing against the porcelain walls without leaving a trace.

“So, it was partly by design and partly by chance?”

Qiushui nodded with a smile.

The General, Qiushui, and Yue Zirong then remained in the meeting room to hammer out the details of the partnership. Mizuki led Shiroishi Haru and Bian Mengmeng back to their quarters.

Bian Mengmeng had been holding back a million questions in the meeting room. Now that she was “unleashed,” she grabbed Mizuki’s arm and started talking.

“I was just hanging out in my room when someone suddenly came to get me. They said Professor Qiushui was here and that I should come. So, what exactly happened?”

Even though she didn’t know the full backstory, she had gathered enough from eavesdropping to know that Yue Zirong was teaming up with Qiushui.

Mizuki gave her the “condensed” version: “Professor Qiushui stormed the base single-handedly on a rainbow starship. Facing a fleet of starships, she stood her ground fearlessly and shouted, ‘Send my students out!’ Congratulations, you are now receiving the same special treatment as me and Shiroishi Haru.”

Bian Mengmeng: “…Mizuki, that’s your mother’s base. There’s no way the Professor would do that.”

Mizuki希: “You caught me.”

Bian Mengmeng: “…”

The disbelief in her eyes was palpable. She had genuinely believed Mizuki希 was the most reliable teammate of their year, but now she was starting to have doubts.

Mizuki希 then gave her a serious explanation of the events.

Realization dawned on her. “So, the Professor is one of the good guys? We don’t have to suspect her anymore?”

“We can’t rule everything out, but for now, yes,” Mizuki nodded.

“I knew she was a good person,” Bian Mengmeng muttered. “She was always so kind to me. I really couldn’t believe she’d be the type to use students for experiments.”

Mizuki pretended not to hear her muttering and pulled out the data Yue Zirong had shown him and Shiroishi Haru earlier. “Since you’re here, there’s something I want you to see.”

“Huh? What is it?”

“I was going to find you anyway to ask if you wanted to join us. But since Professor Qiushui is here, you could also follow her starship back to Special Planet. As long as you keep things quiet, you could just go back to your normal life.”

As he spoke, he transferred the files to her.

“Let me see…” Bian Mengmeng began scrolling through the material.

Mizuki, watched as her brow furrowed deeper and deeper until her whole face was knotted with anger. Fires of fury seemed to leap from her eyes. Under different circumstances, he might have laughed at her expression, but it proved his judgment of her character was correct. Bian Mengmeng was someone with a fierce sense of justice and a heart of gold.

He still wanted to ask her to join them. Her technical skills were invaluable, and aside from her physical stamina, she was excellent at everything else and a quick learner.

After a while, Bian Mengmeng finished reading. Her eyes were wide, reflecting the hallway lights with a determined glow.

“I’m in!” she shouted. In her excitement, her hand passed through the holographic screen and grabbed Mizuki’s wrist.

Mizuki pulled his arm back and crossed his arms. “Don’t you want to think it over? It could be very dangerous. And, well, illegal.”

Twenty-some years of being a law-abiding citizen were hard-wired into her brain. She hesitated for a split second when he mentioned the law, but her resolve quickly hardened.

“I’m joining! Even if I never go back to Special Planet, I’m in.”

Mizuki gave her a thumbs up. “Great. Welcome to the team. Actually, you can still go back with the Professor. Now that we’re partners, it’ll be good to have someone working with us from the inside.”

“Besides, I trust you. You can use your own eyes to see if the Professor is a worthy partner.”

Bian Mengmeng: “…”

Being able to return to Special Planet immediately was an unexpected bonus, but she started to worry again. Before, she had been anxious staying at the base as an outsider, wishing to go back. Now that Mizuki was sending her back, she’d be acting as a mole for the rebels. Her feelings were a mess.

Mizuki noticed her face cycling through anger, joy, and then worry. He laughed. “It shouldn’t be that dangerous. You’ll be with the Professor, and you know how strong she is. You’ll be fine.”

Thinking of how the Professor had single-handedly rescued three students from the Institute, Bian Mengmeng’s fighting spirit reignited. “Okay! I’ll go pack my things.”

The rooms Yue Zirong had arranged for Mizuki and Shiroishi Haru were in a different sector than Bian Mengmeng’s, so they parted ways at the end of the corridor.

Mizuki, opened his terminal to study the map his mother had sent. “Where are we now…”

The Guide’s handsome brows knit together as he rotated the map on the screen for the third time. He wasn’t usually bad with directions, but inside this building, he couldn’t even tell which wing he and Shiroishi Haru were in. Every hallway was white and windowless. He silently criticized his mother for the lackluster interior design.

The Sentinel’s heightened hearing proved useful. Shiroishi Haru caught the Guide’s sleeve. “This way.”

Mizuki希 followed him, intercepted a passerby, and successfully figured out their current position. Once he knew where they were, finding the way on the map was a piece of cake. Since it wasn’t far, he and Shiroishi Haru decided to walk.

Yue Zirong’s base had a certain aesthetic that blended high technology with a rustic, grounded feel. It wasn’t like Special Planet, where everything was sleek, minimalist, and cold. Here, human needs were tucked into nature. Mizukinoticed that many building and road materials were sourced directly from the planet’s local resources.

For instance, the path beneath their feet was made of colorful crushed stones mixed with cement. The stones had a metallic luster, and though transport vehicles occasionally drove over them, the path remained unchanged.

The daylight hours here were also different from Special Planet. In the half-day since he had arrived, the brightness of the purple sky had barely shifted.

As they walked, the black-haired Guide kicked a stray pebble. “By the way, I haven’t asked you yet. Do you want to go back to Special Planet with Professor Qiushui, or do something else? She did mention two students, after all, and you’re one of them.”

“What do you want to do?” Shiroishi Haru asked.

The Sentinel’s curiosity only seemed to sharpen when he was dealing with Mizuki.

“For now, I want to check out that address Xudian left behind,” Mizuki said. “I’m still curious about what he’s up to. Besides, my mom and the Professor should have the Institute situation under control for now. Then I’ll ask my dad about the things he didn’t finish saying. It’s best to pry out more of Xudian’s past. Know your enemy, know yourself, right?”

“How will you get there?” Shiroishi Haru asked again.

“It’s a bit far. I’m planning to ask my mom for a starship and fly over.”

“Can I come with you?”

Mizuki: “…”

He finally realized what it meant to “show one’s hand.” The Sentinel had successfully used three questions to lead up to the one he really wanted to ask.

“I mean, you could, but why follow me? It might not be very fun…”

Mizuki trailed off mid-sentence. He remembered Shiroishi Haru’s previous “You are the most important” declaration, and the rest of his words died in his throat.

He had suspected the Sentinel was emotionally detached, but he suddenly realized that he might be the one who was slow to pick up on feelings.

The Sentinel had been consistently showing his affection. Mizuki understood it in his heart, but he had been intentionally or unintentionally avoiding it, using banter and distraction to maintain a sense of distance.

Initially, Mizuki was just curious about Shiroishi Haru. But after learning more, he became reluctant to touch the details of the Sentinel’s past. Even when his father handed him the files, Mizuki hadn’t opened them immediately after getting Haru’s permission. It wasn’t just out of respect for privacy; it was because he didn’t want to be responsible for another person or get too close.

Accepting someone’s past along with them felt too intimate, too loaded. Mizuki didn’t want to pair up with another Sentinel, and he didn’t want to carry the weight of someone else’s life.

And yet, when Shiroishi Haru returned to the Institute, when he was ready to give up on himself, Mizuki希 had stepped in and taken responsibility for his life anyway. Later, he had let Shiroishi Haru mark him, a mix of willingness and hesitation.

Mizuki希 had an illusion: the moment he accepted Shiroishi Haru’s past, his own emotions became tied to the Sentinel. It was as if he had been pulled into a vortex he could no longer escape. It was too much. Seeing the suffering Shiroishi Haru had endured in the past made him feel more pained and powerless than his own hardships ever did.

When the Guide fell silent after saying “not very fun,” Shiroishi Haru could vaguely sense his emotions, though not clearly. All the Sentinel knew was that Mizuki希 had suddenly become very, very sad.

Shiroishi Haru reached out and took the Guide’s hand.

After concluding her business with Qiushui, Yue Zirong returned to her bedroom. Her husband, Mizuki Kunimitsu, had also returned from his office and was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, resting.

Yue Zirong approached silently and then suddenly pounced on him, burying her face in his chest and taking a deep breath. “Did you go out to find info on Little Haru?”

Kunimitsu was well-accustomed to the sudden weight. His expression didn’t even flicker with surprise. He stroked his wife’s head and let out a weary sigh.

“Yes. I went to the Desolate Planet where had his exam. It turns out it was one of the Institute bases we could never find. But it’s been abandoned now. They must have evacuated in a hurry once the Tower selected it as an exam site.”

Yue Zirong lifted her head from his arms. “Abandoned? Then where did you find Haru’s records?”

“I saw the Teacher,” Kunimitsu said, the vibration of his chest traveling through her.

“The Teacher was there?”

“Not in person, it was a video,” Kunimitsu explained. “I made a deal with her. She has the records, and in exchange, she wants to see Xudian.”

Yue Zirong frowned. “Did she have something to do with the Xudian incident back then?”

“Hard to say.” Kunimitsu shook his head. “But I think there’s an eighty percent chance. And Xudian probably suspects her, too.”

“Asked if Xudian was jealous of them. What do you think?” Yue Zirong asked.

“He and his Sentinel didn’t have a high compatibility rate, but they were very close. If his Sentinel hadn’t died, they definitely would have formed a permanent bond,” Kunimitsu said.

Support