Chapter 47: Forty-Seventh Day of Lying Flat Like a Salted Fish

Nan Yingzhe was the grandson of the Empire’s Emperor, Nan Hui.

Although thousands of years had passed and the “Imperial Family” had grown into a massive clan – with at least ten thousand people in the Empire claiming some relation to the Emperor – the number of Mental Power Awakeners among them remained limited.

This was exactly why Lu Yuan had been able to quickly lock onto “Li Xiangbei’s” true identity once he suspected the man came from the Imperial Family.

Within the Imperial Family, there weren’t many Mental Power Awakeners who fit the age profile and whom Lu Yuan had never met.

The Empire’s Emperor, Nan Hui, had ascended the throne at twenty-five. By the year Lu Yuan recognized Nan Yingzhe, the Emperor was only in his early seventies.

Nan Hui had only one son and one daughter. The Prince, Nan Mu, took after the Empress; he was gentle, kind, and lacked any competitive drive, making him the polar opposite of Nan Hui.

Nan Hui detested his son’s lukewarm nature, and since Nan Mu himself had no desire for power, the position of heir naturally fell to the Princess, Nan Xiao. She was an exceptionally ambitious and brilliant woman, much beloved by Nan Hui.

Nan Xiao’s husband was surnamed Zhao, and they had three children. Lu Yuan had met all three.

In fact, he was quite well-acquainted with their eldest son, the Imperial Grandson Nan Yingxu, and their second daughter, Nan Yingmin. Only the youngest son, Nan Yinghang, had a significant age gap with Lu Yuan; though they knew each other, they weren’t close.

Nan Mu’s family, on the other hand, existed only in the stories of others.

It was said that Nan Mu loved art, and his wife was a famous artist. Since their thirties, the two had taken a starship and left the Empire to travel the various nations for artistic inspiration, rarely returning.

Those living within the Empire could only track their movements through the new works they sent back periodically.

Even Lu Yuan only knew that they had a son named Nan Yingzhe.

This Nan Yingzhe was one of the rare Imperial Mental Power Awakeners whom Lu Yuan had never met in person.

Thus, when he saw Li Xiangbei’s files, Lu Yuan immediately thought of him.

While the possibility existed that Li Xiangbei was some Imperial scion lost among the common folk, based on his records… it looked more like a smurf account created by someone who already knew their own identity.

This was because the file didn’t record his Mental Power trait as “Inspiration.” However, a trait like Inspiration, much like the Geshu Family’s Communication, appeared simultaneously with the awakening of Mental Power. As long as he had undergone a Mental Power test, it was impossible for this not to be recorded.

Nan Yingzhe had admitted it quite readily.

“The situation in the Empire is difficult,” Nan Yingzhe had explained. “As members of the Imperial Family, we should do our part. But neither of my parents are Awakeners, and they’ve always focused on things that aren’t particularly useful, so their return would only add to the chaos.

“Once I awakened my Mental Power, they felt I might be useful on the battlefield. So they arranged for my return.”

Lu Yuan had glanced at him.

Very good. His ability to talk absolute nonsense with a straight face was top-tier.

If it were really that simple, he could have returned directly as Nan Yingzhe. Why bother with the secrecy?

But Lu Yuan had zero interest in the Imperial Family’s internal feuds, so he didn’t care to ask further.

For all he knew, the kid was waiting for him to ask a few more questions so he could drag Lu Yuan into his mess.

Lu Yuan wasn’t stupid; he wouldn’t walk into that trap.

He simply asked, “Which nation helped you forge this identity?”

“The Barber Republic,” Nan Yingzhe said. “That’s where I awakened my Mental Power. My father has a good relationship with their President, so he obtained a set of identification papers from him.”

The Barber Republic was also a member of the Interstellar Alliance and had always maintained good diplomatic relations with the Galactic Empire.

Logically speaking, providing someone with an identity for another nation… that was definitely against the rules.

It was essentially planting a spy in someone else’s home.

But such things were impossible to prohibit. Creating fake identities wasn’t actually that difficult.

Creating something out of thin air was hard, but if one had enough patience to “fictionalize” a few infants every year, insert them into the archives, and then gradually fill in their growth trajectories, it became easy. It only required bribing a few people.

Therefore, it was perfectly normal for the Barber Republic to provide Nan Yingzhe with a Galactic Empire identity.

Lu Yuan thought for a moment. “I won’t report this for now. But I will be watching you.”

“Alright.” Nan Yingzhe nodded. “Thank you.”

–

To this day, Lu Yuan wasn’t certain what Nan Yingzhe’s purpose was for returning to the Empire incognito.

In truth, the man had been very well-behaved. He acted like an ordinary soldier and never did anything unnecessary.

Lu Yuan hadn’t given him any special treatment, yet he proved to be an excellent soldier. By the time Lu Yuan “passed away,” “Li Xiangbei” had already reached the rank of Colonel and commanded a fleet.

However, that was the peak of his military career.

Shortly after Lu Yuan “passed away,” he saw news on the Desolate Planet that Prince Nan Mu’s family had returned to the Empire.

Lu Yuan had casually searched for news on “Li Xiangbei” and found that almost at the same time as his own death, Colonel Li Xiangbei had applied for retirement on the grounds of injury and illness.

Then “Li Xiangbei” left the Empire to “visit relatives” and took a trip around the Interstellar Alliance. Two months later, the Imperial Grandson Nan Yingzhe returned – a man who bore some resemblance to “Li Xiangbei” but had undergone “minor” facial reconstructive surgery due to a childhood injury.

–

Lu Yuan wasn’t interested in Nan Yingzhe’s schemes.

He only cared about one thing –

Nan Yingzhe hadn’t let “Li Xiangbei” “die.” In other words, that identity had not been destroyed.

It was an identity that had left the Empire to “visit relatives” and was completely outside the Empire’s surveillance.

At the same time, as an Imperial Grandson, it was impossible for Nan Yingzhe to use that identity again.

Lu Yuan knew Emperor Nan Hui’s suspicious nature all too well. Until he earned sufficient trust or left the Empire entirely, all of Nan Yingzhe’s actions would certainly be under Nan Hui’s surveillance.

Even if Nan Yingzhe did find a chance to log into that identity’s StarNet account, it would surely be for serious business. He wouldn’t be bored enough to check if he had registered an account on a music platform.

Though he didn’t know why Nan Yingzhe hadn’t simply deleted the identity… Lu Yuan was very grateful for the decision.

It was practically gifting him a perfect smurf account!

Thus, after confirming that Nan Yingzhe had never registered an account on the “Gehui” platform, Lu Yuan quickly registered one, filling in the information for the “Desolation” band and the children.

An “anonymous band” didn’t mean the band had no name; it meant the creator’s real name wasn’t used. On the band’s interface, only the band’s name and the members’ stage names would be displayed, without any link to their StarNet accounts.

Under these circumstances, neither the audience nor talent agencies could use the platform to directly find the person who created the band.

Lu Yuan naturally chose to create an anonymous band. After all, the members of his band didn’t even have StarNet accounts.

Creating the band itself was easy and didn’t even require much of a review process… mainly because there was nothing to review, as Lu Yuan had filled in almost no information.

However, this simple creation process meant the platform would be stricter in auditing the music the band uploaded. Usually, music from verified bands could be displayed first while the platform audited it slowly. But for an anonymous band, the music had to pass the audit before anyone else could see it.

This was normal. Lu Yuan explained it to the children, and they all expressed their understanding.

Soon, under their eager gazes, Lu Yuan finished creating the band.

“Do you want to upload something now?” Lu Yuan thought for a moment. “I don’t know if you’ve finished revising that previous song. Also, I think the pieces you each just played can be uploaded as a sort of self-introduction.”

“Fourth Uncle made a recorder for us. He said it can convert our music into audio files for easy uploading. But we haven’t recorded them yet,” Er Ya explained. “When we get back, we’ll record those five.”

“Mm.” Lu Yuan nodded. He noted to himself that these kids actually got along surprisingly well with Old Fourth.

Lu Yuan didn’t pay much attention to the interactions between others. However, he had noticed that the people he knew seemed to have quite close connections behind his back.

This was perfectly normal, of course. It was impossible and unnecessary for them to report everything to him, and Lu Yuan had no interest in managing them that closely.

“And that song from before… we haven’t finished the revisions yet. We’ll let you hear it in a few days!”

–

When Goudan returned, Lu Yuan was in the middle of “lying flat.”

This meant thinking about nothing, doing nothing, and not even sleeping. He just lay on his sofa, eyes closed or staring at the ceiling, letting his mind go blank.

Having just completed a major task, it was the perfect time to lie flat.

Lu Yuan had only recently discovered the joy of this empty state and was quite addicted to it. Just as a starship needed to land for maintenance after a period of continuous flight, this blank state was his way of shutting down his brain for a rest after it had been running for a while.

It was even easier than sleeping. Sleeping meant dealing with dreams on one hand, and the inevitable irritability of being startled awake by outside noises on the other. Zoning out was different; it could start and end at any moment. It was perfect.

Lu Yuan didn’t even acknowledge Goudan when he entered the room. The thought “Goudan is back” flickered through his mind for a brief second before his consciousness returned to its empty, hollow state.

Goudan glanced at him and walked toward the back. Knowing Lu Yuan was too lazy to greet him, he didn’t bother disturbing his trance. When it was time to eat, Lu Yuan would naturally crawl out of it.

Goudan was used to this.

Sure enough, just like always, Lu Yuan only sluggishly got up to wash his hands once the food was on the table.

Only then did Goudan finally ask, “Did you see the news today?”

“The news?” Lu Yuan looked at him, puzzled.

“Yeah…” Goudan said. “Siming mentioned they’d probably be in the news within the next couple of days.”

“Huh?” Lu Yuan paused, then asked, “They sold out Geshu Qing that quickly?”

He sat back down on the sofa and gestured toward the tablet not far away. “Grab it and see for yourself.”

“You got it.” Goudan happily picked up the tablet and turned it on. He opened the Galactic Forum, a public social platform where many media outlets posted news and where citizens of the Empire habitually shared and discussed various information.

Goudan didn’t get many chances to browse the Galactic Forum, but he had seen it featured in so many TV dramas that he was quite proficient at navigating it.

“Why, did you think it would take longer to sell Geshu Qing?” he asked, quickly tapping the search bar and typing in “Geshu Qing.”

“Yeah,” Lu Yuan nodded. He had discussed this issue with Goudan before.

He was certain that Geshu Qing wouldn’t be returned to the Geshu Family easily; Ying Xun wouldn’t allow it. Ying Xun would surely release a statement claiming he had a member of the Geshu Family in his custody, demanding they bring money for a ransom.

That way, he could return Geshu Qing home while making a massive profit. There was no reason not to fleece the capitalists for all they were worth.

However, he also felt this wouldn’t happen quite so fast.

The Geshu Family wouldn’t necessarily believe Geshu Qing was one of theirs. Or rather, even Ying Xun himself might not fully believe Geshu Qing belonged to the Geshu Family yet.

Therefore, Ying Xun would definitely need to make some preparations. For instance, stealing some DNA from a member of the Geshu Family to compare it with Geshu Qing’s to confirm the biological relationship.

Lu Yuan didn’t think that was something that could be finished in just a few days.

Goudan laughed. “It really isn’t Geshu Qing. There’s no news about him.”

“Then what is it?” Lu Yuan didn’t feel like guessing and asked directly.

Goudan thought for a moment, then opened the trending list on the Galactic Forum and scrolled down.

After a good while, he turned the tablet around to show Lu Yuan. “[Virtual Mecha] Arena Champion: Zhurong.”

As Goudan clicked on the link to read more, he said, “With a nickname like that, I’m betting it’s Zhu Rong’s?”

“Virtual Mecha… looking at the name, it’s a game, right?” Goudan chuckled. “That girl Zhu Rong really can’t stop playing games no matter where she goes.”