For the next few days, Ziye dedicated herself to learning how to pilot the Stealth Bomber, as a way to make amends to Bu Lan.

The Stealth Bomber leveraged advanced spatial distortion technology, allowing it to fly faster and more powerfully while cloaked than when visible.

Once Ziye grasped its basic structure and the principles of stealth, she began the actual piloting lessons. The Stealth Bomber was similar to a mech in that it operated in space, but its controls proved more challenging.

She practiced with meticulous attention to detail for seven full days.

During those seven days, she exchanged not a single superfluous word with Bu Lan, and absolutely none with Tang Wen.

She harbored resentment because they had obliterated her mech without a word, because they had abandoned her alone in the void, and because they utterly lacked any notion of how to care for another person.

She waited for their apologies.

The ideal was lofty, but reality was brutally stark.

In truth, no matter how severely she set her expression, Bu Lan and Tang Wen remained completely oblivious.

Bu Lan was cheerful because Ziye was mastering the Stealth Bomber so quickly. As for Tang Wen, he had spent these past days upstairs learning the piano, and every time he stepped into the research lab, all he heard was a cacophony of random notes—ding-dong-ding.

If Bu Lan attempted to speak to Ziye, Tang Wen would invariably turn, lean over the railing with a furrowed brow, and demand of Bu Lan, "Bu Lan, I'm hungry," or perhaps, "Bu Lan, I'm unhappy."

Bu Lan would look helplessly exasperated, then abandon Ziye to attend to Tang Wen’s demands.

Bu Lan was both Tang Wen’s assistant and his caretaker.

In public, he addressed Tang Wen as "Mr. Tang Wen," but within the research institute, he often used only his first name, and sometimes even yelled at him. Tang Wen would then behave like a sulking child, sprawling across the piano, his thrashing causing a chaotic clamor across the keys.

Ziye felt utterly worn out by Tang Wen’s dramatic behavior.

At times, she suspected Tang Wen was doing it deliberately, intentionally obstructing Bu Lan from teaching her.

Yet, upon catching sight of his pure and haughty gaze, she chastised herself for harboring petty suspicions. Tang Wen was such an elevated figure; how could he possibly stoop to such trivial games?

After completing seven days of training, just as she was preparing to tell Bu Lan she intended to take a few days off, Tang Wen suddenly tossed aside his hand-drawn light-brain and rolled about childishly on the pristine white desk, crying out, "Bu Lan, Bu Lan, where are you!"

Ziye blinked, momentarily stunned, before a soft laugh escaped her. His sudden childishness was truly… remarkably similar to the antics of Nineteen Sister!

A tiny demon must surely reside in his mind, flapping its wings and sporting a wicked grin.

Bu Lan waved a hand with resignation and walked toward Tang Wen to see what he needed.

Ziye only found the situation amusing. Her anger had already dissipated; she had only wanted an apology, but now she couldn't even be bothered to ask for one. She spoke up directly: "Teacher, there are still 10 days until school starts. Starting tomorrow, I will temporarily not come to the institute. I’ll see you after the term begins, is that acceptable?" Tang Wen sat up straight, smoothed his brow, and asked coolly, "Why?" Ziye had already prepared her excuse and answered with perfect clarity: "The holiday is almost over, and I want to go out and see the outside world for a while. Also, Teacher, you should rest before the term begins..."

Tang Wen murmured a faint "Mm," as if about to say more, but held back, turning his body away.

Seeing Ziye standing there looking slightly deflated, Bu Lan intended to offer some comfort. Just then, he remembered one last item that needed attention and said, "Hand over your pilot’s license."

Ziye was slightly confused but pleased that Bu Lan was engaging with her; she found him far warmer than Tang Wen. She decisively pulled out her pilot’s license and handed it over.

The pilot’s license was a small card made of an aged bronze metal, possessing a fine texture. Seeing her own photo on it gave Ziye a sense of genuine accomplishment. Interstellar Federation regulations dictated one must be eighteen to pilot a mech, but rules were meant to be broken; she had just turned sixteen and already held the license!

Bu Lan took the license and explained, "A pilot’s license requires three bars to be filled completely. The first bar represents shuttles, the second represents mechs, and the third represents starships. Only when all three bars are complete are you considered a true space pilot."

He produced his own license and handed it to Ziye for comparison. His indeed had all three bars filled; hers only had two.

She scratched her head sheepishly and asked Bu Lan to process the upgrade for her.

With the pilot’s license upgraded, Ziye happily thanked Bu Lan and sprinted towards the landing platform, clutching Little Sprout. Tang Wen watched her retreat, angrily pressing a couple of keys on the piano before muttering petulantly, "She didn't say goodbye to me."

Bu Lan looked at the sky with an expression of profound helplessness and chuckled, "Didn't you say goodbye to her, either?"

Tang Wen shot him a sidelong glance: "If she didn't say it to me, how could I possibly say it to her?"

Bu Lan simply stared upward, speechless.

Tang Wen used to throw fits, yes, but he generally kept them well hidden, unwilling to expose them. What could have agitated him recently? For him to be acting this way...

Women had their monthly cycles; did Tang Wen perhaps have comparable days every month?

Seeing Bu Lan remain silent, Tang Wen pouted, "Bu Lan, I'm thirsty."

Bu Lan replied soothingly, "Yes, Sir," poured a glass of water, and brought it to him.

Tang Wen glanced at the clear, crystalline glass and declared, "I don't want to drink it now." He rested his head on the piano, his long fingers lightly tapping the keys, behaving like a child unwilling to get out of bed, using the piano to vent his frustration.

Bu Lan sighed silently and opened the schedule interface to place a priority call.

"Vice President Nips? Yes, this is Bu Lan, Mr. Tang Wen’s assistant. Mr. Tang Wen has an unexpected matter and will be unable to attend tomorrow's seminar. Please accept my deepest apologies..."

"Ms. Elenda, hello. Mr. Tang Wen has an engagement regarding the integration department meeting in three days, so he may not be able to attend..."

"..."

Bu Lan canceled every appointment scheduled within the next seven days, regardless of the other party's status or the importance of the meeting, showing absolutely no mercy.

Tang Wen turned his head and asked, "Why did you cancel them?"

Bu Lan spread his hands in a smile. "Your current disposition is not suitable for public appearance. I don't want the image you've maintained for four years to be ruined in one moment. Tell me, where do you want to go?"

"Bu Lan, come here." Tang Wen's lips curved into a sudden smile, and he beckoned Bu Lan over with a hook of his finger. Bu Lan obediently walked up to him, bowing his head slightly. "Please command me."

Tang Wen reached out and patted Bu Lan's shoulder, the movement somewhat awkward, like patting a dog. "Bu Lan, you are a good boy."

Ziye returned to the Sprout Villa and excitedly rushed up to Blackbeard. "Uncle Hu, I learned how to pilot a Stealth Bomber!"

Blackbeard, busy preparing a balance sheet on his light-brain, looked up when he heard this. "A fake certificate? How much did one cost?"

Ziye was furious. She slapped her pilot's license onto his desk with a sharp thwack. "This is a genuine pilot’s license! Issued by the Interstellar Federation!"

Blackbeard picked it up, flicked it with his finger, and showed a measure of surprise. "Well, well, it's real. How much did you shell out for it?"

Now it was Ziye’s turn to be surprised. "Getting a pilot's license costs money?"

Blackbeard paused for a beat of confusion, then burst into hearty laughter. "Not bad, not bad! I was thinking, a high-quality counterfeit costs five hundred credits, and a real one is fifty thousand. I figured you got ripped off, but who knew your connections were so strong, getting it for free. Hey, while you’re at it, can you get one for me too?"

Ziye was so angry she nearly spat blood. She snatched the license back from his hand. "I earned this through real ability! I'm not talking to you anymore, hmph. Hurry up and call Red Hair back; we need to prepare to return to Silver Crest Star."

Blackbeard chuckled slyly. "Don't worry. I'm nearly finished with preparations. Red Hair will be back in two hours. We can go buy a Stealth Bomber then, outfit it, and head back."

Once again, the trio set out together to the starship market to purchase a Stealth Bomber.

Stealth Bombers were generally readily available on the market.

They were possessed by nearly every legion and major conglomerate. Options were plentiful; buying a ship simply required basic registration—real or fake names didn't matter—and the price wasn't exorbitant, only one hundred million credits.

To be absolutely safe, the three eventually agreed to purchase a Stealth Bomber from the Cocoa Group, one that required no registration whatsoever.

The Cocoa Group was one of the most peculiar entities in the galaxy. Its strangeness stemmed not from its immense power or its bizarre corporate culture, but from the fact that all of its mechs and starships were universally the ugliest in the entire galaxy!

For example, its most famous battleship, the White Sail model, was renowned not for its combat prowess, but because the entire top section of the ship was white, resembling a sail. From a distance, it looked exactly like a flag of surrender.

Because of this, many captains had cursed the designer repeatedly, eventually resigning themselves to painting their own insignia over the white section, fostering a unique ship culture.

The Stealth Bomber from the Cocoa Group currently on display was even more bizarre.

This unit was shaped like a tiger, complete with a head, legs, and a tail. Two cute, fuzzy ears stood erect on its head, manufactured using fur implantation technology, and they even moved!

Just two ears—did they really need to be so realistic? Countless people had mentally complained about this very thing!

When Ziye first saw it, she wanted to complain too, but when she discovered that the bomber’s fuzzy ears could emit powerful beams in all directions, more devastating than a storm of needles, she gasped in astonishment.

What shocked her even more was that every time the ears moved, torpedoes shot out of the ear canals!

The tiger’s four limbs ended in padded paws that looked incredibly lifelike. As for the tail and other details, Ziye had simply given up caring.

The most basic function of a Stealth Bomber was stealth; no matter how grotesque the exterior was made, no one could see it during flight. Ziye couldn't quite understand what the designers were thinking.

Red Hair was intensely interested in the Tiger model. Wearing a fur coat, she sat in the command seat and asked Ziye with her most seductive expression, "Look at me. Do I match this Stealth Bomber?"

Ziye quietly wiped her brow. It seemed Red Hair was the only one who could possibly understand the designer’s vision.

She waved her hand, shooing Red Hair out of the bomber, and simultaneously tossed her an equipment manifest. "You and Little Black buy all these items. I’ll start modifying their original systems first."

Blackbeard, listening clearly from outside, shouted back, "Hey, Brat, who are you calling Little Black!"