Chapter 104: Why Is It Them?

“The kid from the Zhan family has arrived?” Even before seeing anyone, a voice was heard.

Xuan Xuan held the item in her hand and turned around to see Kuang Hongyi approaching.

“What are you doing with such childish toys?” Kuang Hongyi remarked upon seeing the mech simulator in Xuan Xuan’s hands.

Xuan Xuan snorted disdainfully. He clearly didn’t understand. What she held was no ordinary mech simulator. “Watch closely,” she said.

Zhan Yu’s lips curved slightly. Indeed, she was her master’s disciple—cut from the same mold. Kuang Hongyi was about to be outdone again.

Xuan Xuan placed the mech simulator on the ground. Kuang Hongyi watched as it took steady steps, shifting through various poses, even equipped with miniature toy weapons.

He glanced at Xuan Xuan in surprise, noticing she had no remote control device. “Did you install an intelligent program? That could be unsafe.”

Since it was a toy, typically intelligent control was voice-activated. Action-oriented AI was rarely embedded in toys—both wasteful and risky. Such control systems were usually reserved for hovering vehicles.

“But to embed an intelligent control system in something so small, that’s impressive,” Kuang Hongyi admitted, careful not to dent his apprentice’s confidence, especially since she was a girl.

Xuan Xuan snorted again, silent, then directly controlled the mech to leap onto a nearby workbench. She grabbed a utility knife and tossed it at Kuang Hongyi. He was taken aback, clearly not expecting such an action from the simulator, but instinctively caught the small knife between his left index and middle fingers.

“Hey, how did you do that?” Kuang Hongyi circled around Xuan Xuan, “Where did you hide the control panel?”

Xuan Xuan ignored him. He was being dismissive anyway.

She controlled the mech to return to her hand.

Gathering her simulator, Xuan Xuan prepared to leave.

“Don’t go yet! Tell me how you made this!” Kuang Hongyi jumped up, blocking her path.

With a sly glint in her eyes and a faint smile, she tossed the device into his hands. “Figure it out yourself.”

Kuang Hongyi’s eyes lit up. Clutching the device, he hurried back to his laboratory. He refused to believe his apprentice could create such a thing without him figuring it out. No matter how impressive, she was still his student.

He paid no attention to Xuan Xuan now. As for Zhan Yu beside them—he was long forgotten.

Covering his mouth to suppress laughter, Zhan Yu thought this would keep Kuang Hongyi busy for quite some time. Even if Kuang Hongyi dismantled the core, he couldn’t learn the secrets.

Xuan Xuan waited, eager to see him fail.

Chin raised, she headed home, ignoring the Zhan Yu following behind. She still remembered what had happened at the Star Network.

In the blink of an eye, Xuan Xuan had to prepare for university. Her heart was bleeding with regret. Kuang Hongyi was still engrossed in studying the simulator, and she hadn’t stepped outside the Wanqi family’s gates since.

If only she hadn’t given the device to Kuang Hongyi—then he would have summoned Kuang Shao daily to pick her up. But now, Kuang Hongyi was too busy with the mech simulator, his communicator turned off.

Xuan Xuan glared at Wanqi Weihan in front of her. The semester had just begun—she hadn’t even stepped foot on campus—when she received dreadful news.

“What did you say?” she asked.

Wanqi Weihan grinned mischievously. “We’re going to the nearby Uninhabited Star for three months of military training.”

This was a tradition at the Federation’s premier military academy. Other schools typically had one month of training, military academies usually two months, but the Federation’s top academy demanded three months—entirely on an Uninhabited Star. Only military forces were stationed there; no civilians.

Only the Federation’s top academy had this privilege; no other school could send students there.

But this was far from good news for Xuan Xuan.

She already knew military training offered no good food. She had hoped to stay in the imperial capital, relying on her spatial abilities to freely commute between home and school. But on an Uninhabited Star? If she could manage that, she wouldn’t have been sent to the Federation as a “heavenly punishment” in the first place.

“What happens if I skip the military training?” Xuan Xuan asked.

Wanqi Weihan was startled—she would be the first to dare skip training at the Federation’s premier academy. After all, entering a military academy meant enlisting in the military with full military management. Unconditional obedience was paramount.

Though life and study had gained some freedom over time, for a soldier, obedience remained the highest priority.

Skipping military training was equivalent to desertion.

In the Federation, deserters had only one fate: execution by firing squad.

No wonder Wanqi Weihan was shocked. “Skipping training is desertion.”

Xuan Xuan’s face soured. Glancing at the time, she left immediately and went straight to the kitchen.

Without a word, she packed every edible item in the kitchen—especially meats—into her spatial pocket.

Wanqi Weihan, who had just finished tidying up, entered the kitchen and gaped. “Have we been robbed?”

Wanqi Weihan laughed darkly, pointing at Xuan Xuan. “Our home’s been robbed. Is anywhere in the Federation safe?”

Xuan Xuan ground her teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier that the Federation’s top academy’s training lasts so long and is on an Uninhabited Star?”

Before the college entrance exam, she had already sneaked home, since Kuang Hongyi assured her she could enter the Federation’s top mech manufacturing department without exams.

Wanqi Yi left it all to Xuan Xuan.

Naturally, she had no objections to skipping exams. Who would have expected the Federation’s top academy had such a tradition?

Wanqi Weihan smirked slyly, recalling how miserable he had been during exams while their lady enjoyed comfort. “They say special recruits undergo special training.”

“Wanqi Weihan!”

Wanqi Weihan hastily stopped Xuan Xuan. “Don’t believe it. Although it’s special training, you’re not in the mech or command departments—you’re manufacturing. It won’t be that harsh.”

“That’s not certain,” Wanqi Weihan dampened the mood once more. “Apparently, the chief instructor this year is a ‘Black-faced God.’”

Wanqi Weihan shot him a glare, and Wanqi Weihan toned down his teasing.

Xuan Xuan snorted. Even a Black-faced God could be toppled with a single vial of potion. She didn’t believe there would be another one next.

Zhan Yu sneezed twice nearby—who was cursing him?

Thinking twice, was it Kuang Shao?

To conveniently monitor Xuan Xuan, Zhan Yu felt a lone man was insufficient and invited Kuang Shao, who was considered her senior.

Calling that place “Uninhabited Star” was generous. Aside from stationed troops, there was nothing else—mostly islands. They were assigned to one of the larger islands, devoid of entertainment facilities. Because of the military presence, even the network wasn’t public; the Star Network was inaccessible, a nightmare for Kuang Shao.

Zhan Yu felt no guilt. It was Kuang Shao’s idea; he had to accompany her.

Before even reaching the gates of the Federation’s top academy, Xuan Xuan, Wanqi Weihan, and Wanqi Weihan were taken to the Uninhabited Star.

The starship was fast; they arrived by afternoon. Upon arrival, Xuan Xuan realized it wasn’t as harsh as Wanqi Weihan had described. The island was tropical, so the heat was uncomfortable, but this wasn’t the biggest issue for her.

The island’s center was tropical rainforest, with military bases developed around its perimeter.

Such places were common on Mata Continent, abundant with snacks and small animals perfect for roasting.

Getting off the starship, Xuan Xuan saw how many students the Federation’s top academy had. Three large starships had landed, each carrying at least five thousand students.

The largest academy on Mata Continent barely had that many; the Federation’s university spanned eight years.

Each grade had fifteen thousand students. The entire school had over one hundred thousand.

Xuan Xuan leaned on Wanqi Weihan, squinting at the bustling crowd.

As Wanqi Weihan said, special recruits underwent special training. This batch included Wanqi Weihan and Wanqi Weihan. All top ten students from every major participated. Wanqi Weihan was in the mech department, Wanqi Weihan in command, even Ai Zhe was among them, also from command.

Over a hundred students across more than ten majors, including Xuan Guo and the girl beside her.

Xuan Xuan glanced once and looked away.

Though squinting, she heard countless whispers about her as a special recruit.

Each year, the Federation’s top academy accepted a handful of special recruits. Without exception, they all possessed unique traits.

This year, there were only five, including Xuan Xuan. Only one other girl was among them, said to have a rare ability to boost morale and strength through her singing. Even Xuan Xuan regarded her with some respect.

Such people only existed among the orc tribes on Mata Continent—usually emerging from the priesthood. The orc priests were revered, and those who could raise warriors’ morale, strength, and even heal wounds through song were called Soul Singers.

Soul Singers were rare, possessing unique spiritual abilities no one could imitate.

Others’ talents were unknown, but among the five special recruits, Xuan Xuan was far from ordinary. In discussions, people claimed she had only gained entry through the special recruit title.

Xuan Xuan glanced at Xuan Guo; her facial wounds had healed. She hadn’t expected her memory to be so poor.

Yawning, having her in the special training would certainly liven things up.

As most students arrived, two figures approached from afar, clad in sharp military uniforms.

The leading two stood tall and imposing, lips thin and pressed tightly.

Beside one was a figure who, despite the uniform, exuded a flirtatious air, her phoenix-eyed gaze enchanting.

Xuan Xuan was startled. How could it be them?

ps:

Thanks to wuyudan for the pink gift!