The days without you are really sad

Ye Lan had fulfilled the promise he made as a boy.

He let his fleet soar through the stars, repelling the alien insects that threatened to bring an interstellar apocalypse, allowing humanity’s glory to shine once again across the cosmos.

But by that time, he had already lost Su Lixiao, the only witness to that promise.

So even if the promise was fulfilled, what meaning did it hold?

“The days without you… truly are hard.”

The moment he saw Su Lixiao, Ye Lan had wanted to say these words.

A century of separation had accumulated emotions, leaving him with countless things he wished to tell her.

But in the end, Ye Lan said nothing.

The remnants of his reason restrained his heart, for he feared that everything before him might be an illusion.

He was afraid the person and scenery before him might vanish in an instant.

The silver light of the stars gradually appeared on the mirror-like lake, while Ye Lan still sat silently on the stone by the lake, letting droplets of water slide off his clothes.

As the evening breeze swept across the lake, the cold wet clothing made him realize that sitting longer could indeed make him sick.

Unconsciously, a bitter smile appeared at the corners of Ye Lan’s lips.

As a fleet commander, absolute rationality was required; being overly sentimental was extremely dangerous.

Yet…

Ye Lan’s gaze grew resolute once more.

Just like the boy he once was, even in the face of monumental challenges, nothing could defeat the promise he carried.

At this moment, Ye Lan was no longer the “Ye Lan” of the past.

He was no longer the weak, timid boy who hid behind Su Lixiao.

He was now a man who had lived two lifetimes, having abandoned weakness, having witnessed both kindness and cruelty in the world.

If this was truly a chance to relive his life, then all the achievements of the future—the position of fleet commander, the restoration of the Human Alliance, the glory recorded in history—he could abandon them all.

For the sake of changing the fate of the person he loved, Ye Lan was willing to sacrifice everything.

“You’ll catch a cold like this.”

Soft footsteps came from behind, accompanied by a voice filled with concern, and a warm coat was draped over him.

“Lixiao.”

Ye Lan turned to see Su Lixiao sitting beside him.

“I’m here.”

She replied softly, naturally leaning against him.

Her closeness made Ye Lan tense slightly, but he quickly composed himself, pretending to be unaffected, and looked up at the sky full of stars.

He said: “Do you think there’s a chance we might never return to Xin Laines?”

Su Lixiao paused, then flicked his forehead playfully with her finger.

“Why say such unlucky things? Isn’t this a peaceful era? You can come back anytime.”

“Ow—my head!”

Ye Lan raised his hand to his forehead, feeling the force of Su Lixiao’s flick.

“Even after a decade of flicks, your intelligence hasn’t decreased.”

Su Lixiao knew her strength well and understood that Ye Lan was just pretending.

Ye Lan rolled his eyes.

“Yes, yes, thanks to your great wisdom, I haven’t been dumb enough to be captured.”

Su Lixiao said: “You’ve become quite cheeky after a few days apart, haven’t you?”

“Well… it’s just that…”

Ye Lan hadn’t seen Su Lixiao for over a century.

He had so much to say, yet he realized that this version of himself hadn’t been apart from her for so long, so he had to act normal.

He said calmly: “It’s not like we haven’t spoken for a few days.”

Su Lixiao paused, initially wanting to flick him again but then refrained.

Ye Lan could feel her gaze scanning him from head to toe, as if examining him.

This made his heart tighten.

Since this Ye Lan was not the same as the “old” Ye Lan, he could only pray she didn’t notice anything.

He didn’t dare turn his head.

Though she was so close, eyes were the window to the soul.

No matter how much he tried to hide, his emotions would still betray him.

If their eyes met, Su Lixiao’s keen observation would undoubtedly see through him.

Just as Ye Lan felt unnerved by her scrutiny, he realized she had looked away.

Su Lixiao stood up: “Make sure your luggage is ready. Remember to take a bath early, there’s a lot to do tomorrow.”

“And don’t cut your hair. Keep it long.”

With that, she left.

“L…long hair?”

Ye Lan was dumbfounded at her unusual request.

In his memory, he had always had short hair, and Su Lixiao had never asked him to grow it.

Besides, in a military academy, boys with long hair would be considered effeminate.

Effeminate…

“Hmph!”

Ye Lan snorted coldly.

He had thought he had forgotten all those unpleasant things, yet now they came rushing back.

Strength, in any circumstance, was the first requirement for having a voice.

The military academy was exactly such a place where strength ruled above all.

Most courses at the Soul-Cutting Military Academy revolved around psychic abilities, and the teaching method was “tailored to the student.”

This “tailored teaching” meant dividing each grade into Classes A, B, C, D, and E, based primarily on students’ academic performance and psychic aptitude.

Class E held the lowest status in the academy, like the bottom layer of a social pyramid, enduring ridicule and scorn from both teachers and students.

Unlike Su Lixiao, who was directly assigned to Class A, Ye Lan was placed in Class E, the lowest-ranked class.

If it were only verbal insults, Ye Lan could tolerate them.

But Su Lixiao, rated as an S-class psychic, quickly became a prominent figure in the academy.

Being childhood friends with Su Lixiao, Ye Lan naturally drew attention; their relationship was widely known.

A red flower always needed green leaves as a contrast.

To everyone, the person who could accompany Su Lixiao could never be a powerless boy without psychic abilities.

Thus, Ye Lan became the target of everyone’s attacks.

Every aspect of his life at the academy was challenged, threatened, and even nearly cost him his life.

On the verge of psychological and self-esteem collapse, Ye Lan stayed in his dorm, refusing to leave, drifting through days, skipping mandatory classes.

It wasn’t until the graduation trip to Gnotis with Su Lixiao, and her disappearance during the alien invasion, that he finally awoke from his daze.

Looking back now, Ye Lan didn’t blame Su Lixiao at all.

Because Su Lixiao had never given up on him; the one who gave up was himself.

Now, he would never allow the dream of conquering the stars and seas, promised in his boyhood, to be tainted by humiliation.

Whether people labeled him a powerless boy or not had nothing to do with his hairstyle; it was purely a matter of personal strength.

As long as one’s strength was sufficient, no one would dare underestimate them, regardless of hair length or clothing.

Ye Lan clenched his fists silently.

He had no psychic abilities; this was an unchangeable fact.

If it weren’t for the alien invasion forcing the Alliance to issue the interstellar conscription order, someone like him would have no path in the military at all.

Ye Lan gazed at the vast starry sky reflected on the lake, the stars so close yet utterly unreachable.

Knowing the consequences of the future, he wondered how he could act now to avoid repeating past mistakes.

“I need to plan carefully.”

Ye Lan stood up from the stone and stretched deeply, loosening his almost rigid body.

Suddenly, a small object fell from the inner pocket of his clothes.

“Clink!”

The object hit the ground with a clear metallic sound.

“What’s this?”

Ye Lan wondered, as he hadn’t had a habit of collecting metal objects as a child.

He bent down and picked up the metallic piece.

When he realized what it was, his pupils constricted.

It was a black-gold square iron plate.

Engraved on it were incomprehensible characters, with part of the engravings abruptly cut off, indicating that the plate was partially damaged.

Why the plate was broken, or what its function was, Ye Lan didn’t know.

But he clearly remembered where he had obtained it.

Ye Lan had some understanding of why the aliens had chosen Gnotis as one of the first planets to invade human civilization.

Beyond its apparent economic prosperity, Gnotis was also one of the experimental planets used by the Human Alliance for secret research.

This iron plate had been acquired as a trophy when Ye Lan recaptured a research facility.

He remembered that the interior of the facility had been entirely used by the aliens as a breeding ground.

Yet, despite their ability to consume rocks, the aliens couldn’t break down this metal, revealing a lot about its nature.

The material of this plate was certainly not iron, though no one knew exactly what it was.

Was it alien-made, or a human black-tech creation?

Since the research facility’s records had been destroyed, Ye Lan had no way of knowing.

Perhaps for personal reasons, or as a keepsake of Su Lixiao, Ye Lan had kept the plate close after reclaiming Gnotis.

But… why had it appeared here now?

Could it be that time wasn’t truly reversed?

Ye Lan didn’t understand and could only store it carefully again.

Yet one thing was certain: many secrets awaited him in this plate.

Ye Lan looked up at the starry sky.

According to Su Lixiao, they were to leave for Beacon Star tomorrow, the location of the Soul-Cutting Military Academy.

Thinking of this, Ye Lan’s hand once again clenched into a fist.

There were some things he intended to return with full force this time!